Although what Lincoln had in mind when he spoke of "towering genius" is extremely rare--he gives Alexander, Caesar and Napoleon as examples--one still finds similar passions in the geniuses who grow regularly within a democracy, such as the kind of geniuses who fill the elite schools, Harvard not least among them. For these students, who might otherwise "boldly take to the task of pulling down," cheering for underdogs in the NCAA tournament is cathartic. The tournament allows their revolutionary energies to be safely spent.

Students at schools like Harvard--where the reigning hobgoblin of the sports program is a consistent mediocrity--are especially well-suited to sympathy with unfavored teams. Unless a squash enthusiast, a Harvard fan will, by graduation, become thoroughly acclimated to the role of underdog fan.

For the most towering geniuses such acclimation is necessary. When the best and brightest lack underdogs to root for, their destructive ambitions seek other outlets. A combination of academic excellence and athletic prowess, then, is not only rare--it's dangerous. Is it mere coincidence that the 1969 occupation of University Hall came just one year after the Harvard football team went undefeated?

Some wise soul in the wing of Harvard's sprawling bureaucracy responsible for scheduling vacations seems to have learned this lesson--this year's spring break corresponds almost perfectly with the climax of the NCAA tournament. Please, watch college basketball over the break--the continued welfare of our nation may well depend on it.

Hugh P. Liebert '01 is a social studies concentrator in Eliot House. His column appears on alternate Wednesdays.