Around the corner of the boathouse, on the edge of the dock and in the warm cheers of the Eli-infested multitudes, the massive Yale eight was gathered, Worcester Bowl held high, as photographers flashed cameras and reporters fired questions. Jubilation filled the deep blue ecstasy of the Bulldog reverie, and champagne quenched New Haven thrists where it had once satiated Cambridge appetites.

Winning its first Rowe Cup since 1948 and its second consecutive Worcester Bowl, the Elis had found their own burst of sun on this gloomy Sunday in Worcester.

Through early-morning hints of sunlight, the Harvard fortunes had proceeded well enough. All six boats had qualified for the finals, five of the six winning their heats. The super-psyched varsity lights had posted a time six seconds better than any other crew on the course that morning. It was nothing unexpected, but at least it wasn't disappointing.

When the afternoon finals rolled around, a guarded optimism pervaded the Harvard mood. Supporters were flagrantly partial to Harvard success, but the athletes themselves were hesitant.

In encouraging-enough fashion, the freshman lightweights led off with an upset win over Yale. The three-second victory brought a dock-side eruption from the crowd. It left the freshmen in delerium as they accepted the lightweight trophy amid a champagne shower that ended with everyone pulling each other into the lake--as the delighted crowd howled.

But as quickly as the joy had erupted, disaster struck back. After a torrential downpour held up the races for 15 minutes, the freshmen heavies embarked on the Grand Finale. As the boats came into the view of the crowd gathered at the home stretch, Yale held about a half-length lead on Harvard and Northeastern. With just 400 meters to go and the boats in an all-out sprint to the flag, the Harvard eight suddenly stopped dead, Cornell and Wisconsin whisking past like a pair of flashes.

A gut-wrenching crab in the boat's engine room had stopped two oars mid-stroke and left the boat powerless. The shell limped home in fifth place, sorely disappointed and near shock.

As the Eli freshmen climbed up to accept their award and then returned to their shell very ceremoniously, one woman in the crowd turned to her friend and said, "Oh, they're no fun. They didn't even throw each other in the water. They're too boring to win."

But the pattern of defeat had been cast for the afternoon. It was to be an Eli event all the way. With the exception of a brilliant win in the J.V. lightweight race, which kept the talented boat in possession of a perfect record for '79, Harvard was to be a bridesmaid, never a bride, for the rest of the day.

With a considerable size advantage over the relatively small Harvard crews, the Elis understroked and overpowered the Crimson all afternoon. It was supremely frustrating.

The varsity lightweight boat that had come to Worcester screaming "No prisoners" louder than ever and vowing revenge for the May 6 loss to Yale, was just one of four boats that could not make up the difference. After rowing furiously hard through the middle 1000 meters of their race, the lights fell victim to exhaustion in the closing sprint. The Elis took an obnoxiously comfortable win while hard-charging Princeton closed with a flourish that left Harvard third.

As coach Peter Raymond watched his charges leave the boat in funereal silence, seven seat Pasha Lakhdhir remained on the dock, his feet resting in the boat and his head buried in his arm. The letdown, the sudden drain of adrenalin and the misery of a second loss to despised Yale kept him rooted there for a good three minutes. Finally Raymond's hand descended to grab the hand of his disconcerted oarsman, and the pair walked away from the shell for moment, in the somber aftermath of defeat.

The season was almost over before it had started for Harvard's J.V. lightweights.

In Philadelphia, on April 14, the Crimson boat trailed Penn by open water at the 1000-meter mark. Seven seat Tony McAuliffe remembers, "My head was really turned around at that point. I was thinking, 'This just doesn't happen to the J.V. lights.'"

Well, it didn't happen. In a remarkable comeback, the lights roared past the Quakers to snatch a 5.4-second victory and the first leg of what was to end up as an undefeated season.