It has often done so in dramatic fashion. It’s a tough break for the 1997 team. That group was far more efficient, but much less exciting. Soon, to fans and future Murphy pupils alike, it will be a distant memory.

If you’re looking for a team to pity more than the 1997 Crimson, it’s the 2001 Yale Bulldogs. If Coach Murphy has skillfully penned the script up to this point, he’s also offered a bit of foreshadowing about the ending.

“Despite the records, these guys know that any team in the league can beat you,” Murphy said. “But if Yale beats us, they will have earned it because our guys are going to play unbelievable.”

Even if, as is its custom, the Crimson somehow makes it a close one against a Yale team that has a single Ivy victory to its name, there’s no way the Crimson loses in New Haven after a win like this. Think they’ll have difficulty getting up for this one in the afterglow of this weekend’s triumph?

“We’re going to enjoy this, but the guys will be fired up tomorrow, no doubt,” Rose said. “Not only because we don’t want to share a championship with anyone. It’s Harvard-Yale, it’s the biggest game of the season, it’s our rival, and the seniors haven’t beaten Yale since we’ve been here.”

It’s also the only thing the team of Murphy’s memory still has on them. Pity the 1997 Crimson—their time spent in a unique position in Harvard lore was far too short. And pity the Yale team that stands in this year’s Crimson’s path to perfection.