"I want football to be fun," Murphy said. "It's a hell of a lot more fun when you win. The bonds that you form with your teammates, the lessons you learn--they're a whole lot stronger when you win."

Yes! And then the kicker:

"I just want to add to the Harvard experience."

Bronze the guy. He understands Harvard without succumbing to it. That's the key to football success here and in the Ivy League.

This is not to say that this situation will last forever. Maybe the Harvard aura will wear on him, too. After all, as a hotshot young coach, Restic nearly accepted an offer to coach the NFL's Philadelphia Eagles before deciding to spend his twilight years in Dillon Field House.

But Murphy made it clear what he was looking for yesterday. He mentioned that Harvard was "a good atmosphere to raise a family" yesterday three times, and he mentioned that he was "not ready to retire" twice.

And he's not looking for a tuition dodge: Murphy (who is only 37) and his wife, Martha, have a two-year-old daughter (Molly) and a newborn son (Conor--this family is Irish to the core). That's an awful lot of years before those two come of age.

What Murphy wants is a place to settle down for a while, without the pressure of heading a big-time program. Cincinnati flirted with the Top 25 this season, playing Memphis State, Syracuse and Houston. Harvard tied for last in the Ivy League, playing Cornell, Brown and Columbia. Bearcat football is front page stuff on the sports sections of the Cincinnati Post and Enquirer. At Harvard, one beat writer at The Globe and a passell of student newspaper tykes don't stir up a lot of headaches.

At Harvard, he can put away the Tylenol and break out the Dr. Spock. And unless Murphy succumbs to the mystique, he'll move on in five or 10 years, his job done.

In the meantime, he plans to win a lot of football games. I hear the timetable for an Ivy League title is three years.

I'm in awe.

John B. Trainer is a Crimson staff writer.