Legend says it at all began in 1911 during the Harvard-Cornell hockey game.

During the game, legend has it that some crazy fans--either daring or drunk--threw some dead bunnies on the ice.

Check the January 30, 1911 issue of the Crimson, however, and you'll find no mention of dead bunnies. Only quick-witted, snappy prose: "The forwards for the University tried to play team-work, but in following the individual play of their opponents they became hopelessly drawn out of their positions."

The Big Red won, 3-2. No dead bunnies across the ice of Boston Arena that Saturday night in 1911.

But the myth has continued.

All through the years. All the way to Bright Center, 1989, and to five Harvard fans who pay tribute to those furry animals every weekend during hockey season.

They sit in the student section, wearing Harvard sweatshirts and bunny masks that rival Bugs, Peter and Roger.

I had to talk to them. They agreed, but only on condition of anonymity. It's a bunny rule. Helps the bunny mystique.

I had one question: Why bunnies?

They told me the story of the 1911 Great Bunny Massacre at Boston Arena. The dead bunnies will not be forgotten.

"We're doing it to pay reverance of the dead bunnies of 1911," Bunny A said.

I knew they were crazy.

Rarely at a Harvard sporting event do you find characters--loud, obnoxious fans who lead cheers and scream their lungs out all for a team.

This year, the Bunny Quintet is fast becoming Bright's newest institution. Veiled in masks and carrying the signs that made the Big Guy so famous, they give life to Bright Center.

The student section, once quiet, once drab, is alive again. First it was the Big Guy. Now, five bunnies and a few of their non-bunny friends.