“Things like this really put sports in perspective. No games. Not now.”

“We need sports, now more than ever.”

These two sentiments, both well-intentioned, came from sports sections whose pages were suddenly rendered insignificant last week, dwarfed in every respect by photographs of fire and rubble and bent steel, of the faces of helpless but somehow hopeful loved ones.

And of rescuers, beginning with New York’s finest and bravest. These are what real heroes look like, the sportswriters were quick to remind us. Not the man chasing 70. Not the guy who hits one of two free throws to pull his team past the Clippers. The writers found both their craft and their subject humbled. They produced their commentary almost apologetically.

And yet the sections were still there, so commentary had to be written.

And the games were still on the schedule, so decisions had to be made.

Decisions were made concerning these games last week, and in a country suddenly united by grief and fear and anger, these decisions represented a rare point of argument. Tuesday’s games were cancelled almost everywhere, but the question of when to begin playing again loomed large.

Many leagues, schools and conferences postponed all of their games indefinitely, without feeling compelled to spell out their reasons. Who needed explanation?

But that decision was anything but unanimous. Early on, Harvard adopted a policy in which individual teams would decide whether or not they felt comfortable playing on—provided that the opponents were still available.

“A lot of factors go into whether you’re comfortable with something like this,” assistant athletic director for media relations John Veneziano told me last Wednesday. “Different kids have different takes. Some feel that it’s best to pause, but others might feel that a contest is the best way to regain normalcy in their lives. We decided not to make a blanket decision.”

Eventually, the Athletic Department shut down all operations for the weekend anyway, but the reversal did not invalidate its initial stance. The dignified and patriotic air surrounding Thursday’s Kentucky Wesleyan and Tennesee-Martin football game—the only one in the country to be played that night—suggested that it wasn’t necessarily too soon for American sport to resume somewhere. Perhaps the games could find a respectful niche in the real world in the immediate aftermath of chaos.

And yet, when Columbia and Fordham refused to cancel their football game until Friday, the day before the scheduled contest, one couldn’t help but feel repulsed. How could the two New York City schools even consider playing on with bodies still being hauled out of the debris across town?

Nothing profound or definitive can be said about the scheduling conflicts now. Sporting events across the country—and here at Harvard—resumed yesterday. For some, it was probably a welcome return to business as usual, a logical extension of President Bush’s request that we get back to living “as we always have.”

For others, it was probably still too soon. For some, this weekend might still be too soon. The sight of fans wearing blue with the crimson and white at Soldier’s Field on Saturday won’t allay all concerns about timing and mood. And what can one do but respect that?

At this stage, there really aren’t wrong answers.

As far as the back page goes, the line of the “Star Spangled Banner” that mentions the light from the battle giving “proof through the night that our flag was still there” now has a more poignant meaning. The presence of sports will serve as one form of proof that America and its way of life will continue.

The proof will be clear in both scripted and spontaneous displays of patriotism at events across the country in the next few weeks, like those before and during every baseball game last night. And the proof will be even clearer if and when they subside. At the point when we’re able to become as interested in Barry Bonds and Michael Jordan as we once were, we will have in one sense prevailed over the forces of intimidation.

For some, of course, that point in time will come much later than for others, if it comes at all.

And there’s nothing wrong with that.