Does it send a chill down your spine to see a live Trojan on a snorting white horse gallop around the Los Angeles Coliseum when the University of Southern California scores a touchdown?

Isn't it cute when a leprachaun in green tights and a plaid vest scampers about during Notre Dame games? What about the excitement caused by the appearance of Georgia Tech's Rambling Wreck?

Well, I've always been fascinated by collegiate mascots. However, my interests have not been restricted to purely visual contact. Instead, I've tried to grab the bull by the horns, fur, scales, or whatever outer apparel various college symbols wear these days.

Wisconsin

I remember the first time I met a living, breathing and drinking college mascot....

It was New Year's Eve in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, and I thought I must have had a few too many beers because I noticed the guy next to me at the bar was wearing a set of furry pants, furry arms, and furry paws. What's more, he sported a bright red and white striped sweater beneath a head that distinctly resembled the taxidea taxis in my high school biology book.

It was both a relief and a thrill to realize I was in the presence of none other than "Bucky Badger," mascot of the University of Wisconsin. As time passed, Bucky and I grew to be close friends. In fact, Bucky and I went skydiving together during the week before he courageously carried off one of the University of Michigan's cheerleaders to the Wisconsin side of Camp Randall Stadium in retaliation for the loss the Wolverines were currently inflicting upon the diehard Badger fans.

Last winter in Providence, Rhode Island, I met another creature out of collegiate folklore and mythology. This time I had the good fortune to interview Duke's Blue Devil immediately after the Duke basketball team whipped Villanova earn a trip to the NCAA finals in St. Louis, Missouri.

The Blue Devil was barely discernible among the mass of blue-clothed Duke fanatics. Only his distinctive blue tail, blue trident, and blue face distinguished him. He was hardly the devil Milton would have us believe exists.

Yet there he stood, in his moment of glory, the prima facie representation of Blue Devilirium. The power he wielded, the spirits he evoked (and emitted), symbolized the collegiate "thrill of victory, and agony of hangovers."

But why do I dwell on such faraway myths and legends? What significance do my experiences have for Cambridge-bound undergraduates? Only this!

Last summer, the week before Harvard commencement, I attended a wedding in North Carolina. At the bachelor party, to my chagrin, I met aniex-Yale Bulldog. resolution sanctified by innumberable brews! I would discover the Harvard Crimson!

I knew it would be a long, hard search. And yet, I knew I could never rest until I had come face-to- ...whatever it was. That amorphous, nebulous being, already years old, the essence of Harvard, was what I sought.

After 200 years, I figured the Crimson was probably in some rest home for aged hues. Undaunted, I started my search on 14 Plympton Street--home of the present Harvard Crimson. No luck!

I checked the Crimson's genealogy. I sent a letter to Alabama, in care of "The Crimson Tide." No response!