Before each Harvard men's soccer game, senior back Andy Dale performs the same ritual.

Dale pops AC/DC's Back in Black into his walkman, and dons his headphones for the trek to Ohiri Field.

The music is always the same. Playing it is imperative to Dale, even though he's pretty tired of the tune.

"I did it once, we won, so I tried it again," Dale says.

And it's kept on working. Harvard (13-0-3 overall, 6-0-1 Ivy League) hasn't lost a game all season.

But the pre-game ritual is more than just superstition. While AC/DC plays, Dale's face is a study of intensity. It's the same expression he wears on the field.

"Concentration is a mental part of the game," Dale says. "[My Crimson teammates] have played a lot more soccer at a much higher level. The mental part of the game is something I feel I can add," Dale says.

Dale says he "[doesn't] have any business being out on the field" with the talented Crimson contingent. But in a season plagued by injuries and inconsistency, he has been a steady force in the Crimson backfield.

The stats--like Dale himself--are modest. No goals and two assists for two points.

His versatility and team leadership tell a different story.

In his four-year Crimson career, Dale has played all the backfield positions, and has spent some time in the midfield as well. When Harvard Coach Mike Getman found himself with three injured sweepers early this season, Dale found himself taking over as the backfield director.

"Sweeper has been a very hard position," Dale says. "You stand back there and see all the chaos, sometimes it just seems that nobody's marking."

Dale takes charge in the position--shouting out opponents for each Crimson booter to mark.

"My vision of the role has two perspectives," Dale says. "My first job is to play good soccer. The other is help each other play good soccer."

Sometimes his teammates don't listen. Sometimes he simply runs out of breath. But the expression on his face remains unchanged.

It's not that he doesn't get frustrated. He's been known to get angry on the field--quite often with himself.

"When Andy Dale kicks the ball with his left foot, everybody goes AHHHHHH, it's a miracle," Dale says. "I like to pretend that it's because my right foot is so good, not that my left is so bad."

Dale, a Seattle native, finds it amusing that he's the only player from his successful youth program to continue soccer at the college level. He's kept playing because "it's fun." He "had a great time" listening to the crowd cheer during Harvard's 5-4 overtime victory over Princeton.

But he certainly didn't show it on his face. When a Tiger forward broke away and started to race downfield, Getman yelled from the bench: "What do you think of that, Andy?"

Dale didn't look up. He didn't blink. He simply turned, and neatly took the ball away. Even then he didn't smile.

Dale's intensity leaves its mark. He limps away from almost every game--muscles sore, energy drained.

That's when it's time for ritual number two. A James Taylor tape finds its way into Dale's walkman.

And a smile shows up on his face.