Saturday was cloudy, cold and windy. Not a good day for a football scrimmage. Providence, R.I. is bleak and dismal when it is cloudy, it is cold and windy. Saturday was not a good day to visit Providence, R.I. Harvard's football team had a scrimmage against Brown on Saturday. In the Providence, R.I. In cloudy, cold, windy, bleak and dismal Providence, R.I. So I went to Providence, R.I. too. On a day that was both a bad day for a football scrimmage and a bad day to visit Providence, R.I. And that about sums it up.

My first trauma came at the gate. The Brown athletic department's assistant director of sports informations wanted to confiscate my camera. "You can't take that camera in there," he said. "Yes I can't." "No you can't." "Why not?" Because the coach doesn't want anyone spying on his team. "Who would want to spy on the Brown football team?" "Now listen you, you can't take that camera in there." I gave him my camera. Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting in the 61st row on the home-field side of the stadium. I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was the Brown assistant director of sports information. "You can have your camera back." "But what about the spying?" "I guess it's all right to take some pictures if you like." So I took a roll of pictures. None of them came out.

Providence, R.I.

After regaining my composure from the camera incident, I stopped to consider the situation. I asked myself "what am I doing in Providence, R.I. on a cloudy, cold and windy day, watching a football scrimmage?" I asked myself that. Several times.

Finally, I began to reassure myself that the reason I was in Providence, R.I. on a cloudy, cold and windy day, watching a football scrimmage was that I was eager to learn what kind of team Harvard would offer this year. That reassured me for a while. Until it dawned on me that Harvard was running but one series of plays every time they had the ball. Man in motion left. Pitch left. Off tackle. Man in motion right. Pitch right. Off tackle.

This did not resemble the multiple attack that I remembered from last year. In fact, the only thing it did resemble was the offense I ran my sophomore year in high school at Kennebunk (Maine) Hight. We played eight games with that offense. We lost seven games with that offense.

After some soul searching, I discovered why Harvard was looking so simple-minded on the field. The man next to me in the trench coat was writing on a clip board. The paper had a letterhead. It said "The University of Massachusetts."

"Are you a scout from UMass" I asked. "Yes I am," he answered. "Why are you here?" "To get an idea of what Harvard has to offer. But it doesn't really matter." "Why's that?" "Because Harvard has to send us a copy of the film anyway." "Oh."

I began to think about how ludicrous it all seemed. There I was watching a football scrimmage on a cloudy, cold and windy day. In a city that is bleak and dismal when it is cloudy, cold and windy. I'd nearly gotten into a fight because I'd wanted to take pictures. I'd had my camera taken away. Then my camera was given back to me and I was told that I could take pictures after all. I was cold.

All to see Harvard play football. But I didn't get to see Harvard play football. Because there were scouts in the stands and besides the films would be going to the opponent next week anyway. It was hopeless. I looked down at my camera. I looked at my fingers wrapped around the film advance lever on my camera. I realized that I couldn't feel the tips of my fingers very well. All to see Harvard play football. And I hadn't.