A funny thing happened here Thursday night.

From common rooms to house grilles to the Grille, Harvard was cheering for Princeton.

When the annual NCAA men's basketball tournament tipped off Thursday, Harvard found itself analyzing brackets, learning more about the dribbling acumen of Austin Peay's point guard, watching CBS non-stop, and yes, even, cheering for hated Princeton in their first-round game against last year's national champion, UCLA.

This is March Madness. A time when Harvard forgets its midterms, preferring instead to use its collective brain power to dissect half-court offenses and full-court presses.

And as the initial 64 teams was pared down to 32 last night, the stakes are increasing as students, like the rest of America, are participating in numerous betting pools.

In dorm and house pools across campus, it is a Drexel or a Santa Clara, which can make the difference between winning and being cast as just another basketball neophyte.

While some this weekend will be cheering for their hometown team, most followers of the tournament are in it for a more lucrative reason--money.

The traditional betting pools that swirl around the upsettingly chaotic "Road to the Final Four" abound at Harvard this month.

Student organizations and teams, dorm floors and entrepreneurs alike conduct the gambling ventures.

Zachary T. Ball '99 is running a more broad-based and sophisticated pool, going so far as to have his friends pass out bracket sheets in Annenberg Dining Hall to interested speculators.

"I look forward to the tournament, it's fun," he says. "The pools are just a tradition."

Ball attracted 20 participants, mostly his friends, to pay the $5 entry fee. The first winner will receive $60, while the second and third place winners will take home $25 and $15 apiece.

But as any good gambler knows, the house rules are important to know and fraternal ties are cast aside when money is involved.

Because Ball did not explain the way the jackpot would be distributed, some pool shoppers were concerned that he was skimming money off the top, according to Ball.

Ball denies the allegation. "No, I get nothing unless I win," he says.

Most pools are smaller and friendlier. Ali J. Satvat '99 organized a small-time contest among 12 students.

"It's just something you have to do in March, but I had extra incentive to run it because I've never won one and I think I'm due," Satvat says.

Locker rooms and bulletin boards of student organizations are also littered with bracket sheets for their own pools.

Robert H. Henry '99 ran a tournament betting-ring for the men's first-year crew team.

"I left a pile of sheets around in the boathouse and about 10 people filled them out and sent them back," Henry says.

Although most forms of gambling are outlawed in Massachusetts, none of the first-years said they felt their actions warranted disciplinary action.

Many tournament operators justified their involvement on the grounds that they would not be collecting any money themselves.

And some of them checked the fine print.

"I checked the Handbook before I handed out the brackets and I didn't find anything about gambling," Ball says.

Henry says he asked his crew coach to find out if the pools were illegal.

"He didn't get back to me, so I assume that they are OK," Henry says.

Ajay Bhatia '99, who is running a small competition for his floor, says he might substitute Crimson Cash for real bills in order to avoid possible disciplinary troubles.

Other tournament fans, like Josh C. Vessey '96, realized that even college basketball could not take precedent over their senior honors theses.

But now that he has handed his thesis in, its time for Vessey to relax and, like his other classmates this weekend, find the nearest television.

"Now I'm just going to sit back and watch some basketball," Vessey says