A typical Thoke at-bat this year, for example, elicits screams of "Hey, Two-Eighter / No one's greater / Hey, Two-Eighter / Get a hit!"

When junior right fielder Sarah Koppel strolls to the plate, the team chants "Koppel! Koppel! / Eat 'em up! Eat 'em up! / Koppel! Koppel!" Matching choreography follows.

And, best of all, Montijo's cheer parodies the chorus of Nelly's immortal song E.I.: "Andele, Andele, mama, e-i, e-i, Ti-jooooooo! / Who's whackin' it now?"

Throughout each game, unbridled enthusiasm emanated from the clubhouse. It's the sort of thing that would make the stereotypical balding, chaw-using, reticent baseball men we see in the movies spin in their graves. In baseball, after all, sitting quietly in the dugout in deep contemplation of the diamond and its secrets while chewing gum can be an appropriate reaction to a three-run homer. You stop actively cheering once you take off your little league jersey for the last time. Exuberance and professionalism aren't compatible.

Collegiate softball players defy this convention, and this year's Crimson was a textbook example.

The Crimson didn't collapse after losing the bottom end of a doubleheader to Cornell a few weeks back that put its hopes of repeating in jeopardy. The team simply dug deep and won the rest of its games.

The great thing was that the Harvard dugout during the Cornell loss looked and sounded exactly the same as it did when the team clinched at Dartmouth. No one ever stopped cheering.