"Daddy, why is everyone yelling 'boring, boring' at the band? I think they play okay."

The boy's father was embarrassed. "Son, they don't mean 'boring' like when we hear your grandfather recite the Gettysburg Address in Latin. It's just a tradition at Harvard that when the crowd particularly enjoys a half-time selection by the band they yell 'boring!' in honor of Leonard Boring, the first director of the Harvard Band."

The boy was finished with his questions for the day. The second half began with Harvard trailing, 13-7. Both teams were relentless on defense, and the boy was tempted to ask his father why the lineman seemed to receive most of the punts. He didn't.

The clock wound down. With three minutes remaining, Harvard began to march down the field. Runners made sharp cuts and wore for good yardage. The quarterback began hitting receivers in full stride, almost at will. With ten seconds left and 11 yards to go for the winning touchdown, the team in the gold pants and crimson jerseys finally scored. A quick pass over the middle hit a linebacker's helmet and fell into the hands of an end, sprawled on the ground with a pulled hamstring muscle.

The boy has never seen anything like it in all of his two years of watching football. For the first time that day he was standing and cheering madly. The final gun sounded.

The father and son walked across the street to the Business School parking lot.

"That was unbelievable, Dad! Do they always do stuff like that at Harvard, or is it just during the football games?"

"Son, this is Harvard. There's a little bit of a football game in everything here."