I searched University Hall, Massachusetts Hall, Quincy House, and Widener Library. There wasn't even a reference card!

Then I went to the Science Center. Perhaps the Crimson had been synthesized and held captive by some Chem 20 nerd who hated football games. Not a chance!

A frightful thought shook me! What if the Crimson had been buried in the rubble of Dillon Field House this summer. And no one had seen him.

Daniel Steiner '54 wouldn't comment on him! Archie Epps said he wouldn't let him utilize Harvard's name! Dean Rosovsky claimed the Crimson couldn't become part of the Core! The Faculty refused to give him tenure! President Horner claimed the Crimson was a she! President Bok said he wouldn't make any more mistakes, and vowed not to name a library in the Crimson's honor.

It seemed like a huge cover-up. No one in the administration seemed to give a damn No one had seen him, few people even had an inkling of what he looked like.

So, I simply sat down and thought. Where had I seen the Crimson? I was almost sure he was present in 1974 when Harvard beaf Yale, 19-13, in the final seconds of the season to claim a share of the Ivy title.

The Game

I can almost remember seeing him 1975 at the Yale Bowl when Mike Lynch kicked the field goal to win the championship outright.

And he was absolutely at the Boston Garden two years ago when Harvard won the Beanpot. Sometimes I think I've seen him at the IAB, certainly he was there when the basketball team beat Penn last year.

Yet there's something about the Crimson I can't put my finger on. He's not found in attendance figures, athletic scholarships, or pep rallies. At Watson Rink, he can't be found at all.

But he is growing somehow. At Blodgett Pool, the ITT, and especially among Radcliffe students. I hear Crimson catchwords much more often.

What's In A Name?

However, the Crimson cannot be captured in words or in substance. He doesn't seem to exist according to the administration or the Faculty. Even the student body rarely seems moved by his spirit.

Still, I've seen him once or twice--in the nets, on the field, in the locker room, and on the ice.

But I've given up trying to find a physical "Crimson" because I realize he doesn't exist. He can't be put in the zoo like lions, panthers, bruins, or bulldogs. Nor does he don the static characteristics of Spartans, Patriots, Sooners, or Cornhuskers.

The Crimson isn't as commercial, professional, or Godlike as the Big Eight, the Pac 10, or the Big Ten--especially Ohio State.

So, what or where is the Crimson? I guess it only exists "for some of the people, some of the time." Except in New Haven.