While Beanpot fever continues to spread over the campus faster than an infectious disease, a senior admissions officer plows through stacks of applications from eager high school seniors. But when H. Bradley Richardson '53 can no longer plow his way out from under the essays, his thoughts invariably drift back 25 years to a packed Boston Arena.

5100 Sardines

"I'll never forget that first Beanpot," says Richardson, whose sterling senior goaltending enabled Harvard to cop the coveted crown. They played it on back-to-back nights before 5100 sardined maniacs who threw fruit, eggs, and even firecrackers at the padded warriors guarding the sacred mesh, recalls the transplanted New Yorker who learned the goalie craft playing street-roller-hockey in Central Park.

Harvard defeated the Eagles in overtime in the 1953 Beanpot opener, 3-2, with Richardson turning aside 23 shots en route to the emotional triumph. The next night, the former Milton Academy hockey captain survived a shooting barrage by the tenacious B.U. Terriers with 36 saves and a 7-4 inaugural championship win.

Who Was That Maskless Man?

Richardson tended the twines in the maskless era of hockey, when goalie's mugs often resembled Goodrich radials. "I think that all goalies are a special breed who readily accept the challenges and hazards of the trade, and pray for a good set of defensemen," the 1953 Angier Trophy (Most Improved Player) winner commented.

Before the recent, Cornell game, Richardson reminisced with a group of former Harvard goalies who together formed the "Canterbury Society," which holds an annual dinner and presents the All-Ivy Goalie Award. Brian Petrovek, who received that accolade two years ago, will join the society's ranks come the season finale. "Brian is a real student of the game, has tremendous concentration, and is one of the best Harvard goalies in recent memory," says the season ticket holder who rarely misses a Crimson home clash.

The eight-year veteran of the Harvard admissions office is an ardent booster in other, less visible ways. A member of the Harvard Hockey Solicitors Committee and treasurer of the Friends of Harvard Hockey, Richardson hopes that the Crimson skaters can maintain the unique three-level program that has been abandoned for fiscal purposes at other institutions.

"Thanks to the excellent work of Coach Cleary, a lot of outstanding hockey prospects want to attend Harvard," says a man in the know, whose regional admissions responsibilities include Minnesota, home of varsity lettermen Jim Liston, Gene Purdy, Charlie Petersen, and freshman goalie-of-the-future Brian Murphy.

Nomads

"We all made some close and enduring friendships on our '53 squad," commented Richardson, his eyes twinkling with delight while discussing former teammate Dick Clasby, whose son Mike is now a sophomore winger. As he contemplated the team photo in his office, Richardson recalled the nomadic existence of a team without a rink that road the MBTA to practice.

He laughs when reminded of the 1951 Rennsaeler Polytechnic Institute Tournament, in which the Williams College goaltender was snowbound prior to the Ephmen's contest with Brown. The desperate Williams coach received permission to ask Richardson to play for his squad. Needless to say, Richardson calmly put on the purple colors and made a mere 56 saves against the Bruins.

The stories continued (there's one about spending New Year's Eve in Grand Forks, S.D., for a tournament in a converted barn) and the nostalgia flowed as a middle-aged man contemplated the chin-high stack of application folders piled on his Byerly Hall desk. And for a moment, you might wonder if Brad Richardson was thinking of asking Brian Petrovek to trade places with him this Monday night at the Garden. You could sense that he was once again hearing the crowd buzz and roar with delight for his kick-save of a slapper from the point. Beanpot fever will do that.