If the Princeton Tigers entered last weekend thinking they could avoid Ben Crockett and the type of ungodly stuff he usually throws, they were only half right.

No, Crockett did not appear on short rest again. He didn’t need to. Pitching in the biggest game of his life, senior Justin Nyweide was just as good.

The smooth righthander and one-time varsity swimmer combined his usual craft and grace with pure, Crockett-style power. Nyweide buzzed a lively fastball past Princeton’s hitters for a career-high 14 strikeouts, collecting his first-ever postseason in the process.

“I think he had a good heater going,” Harvard Coach Joe Walsh said. “They were looking for the breaking ball a little too much because he threw it well last time [against Princeton], but today he blew the fastball by.”

All season long, Nyweide had been Crockett’s opening act. He was the undercard. But then Crockett was summoned to pitch in Harvard’s one-game divisional playoff against Brown last Wednesday, meaning that he would have to be shelved for most if not all of the series with the Tigers. That—plus a nagging shoulder injury to sophomore starter Marc Hordon—threw Harvard’s postseason pitching plans completely out of whack.

Necessity thus thrust Nyweide into the Crimson’s starring role on the season’s grandest stage. He promptly brought the house down.

“I’m so happy for him,” senior leftfielder Javy Lopez said. “His last couple outings have been rough. Today we really, really needed him. He was just on.”

Heading into the best-of-three showdown with Princeton, Walsh had hinted that his pitching plans included Nyweide, senior Chaney Sheffield and praying for rain. The thinking was that if the Tigers pushed Harvard to a decisive third game, a rain-out on Sunday would buy Harvard enough time to rest Crockett for Monday’s makeup date.

But there was little need for rain dances after Nyweide was done. On Saturday, he lasted the full nine, throwing a Herculean 154 pitches and keeping the bullpen fresh.

“With a depleted staff—with Hordon and Crockett not going—it was just what the doctor ordered,” Walsh said.

Redemption was the rule all day Saturday. In the sixth inning of Game Two, here was junior Kenon Ronz, fallen from grace as a starter just a year before, but reborn as Harvard’s lefty specialist. During the 2002 stretch run, Ronz had teamed with senior middle-man Mike Dryden and junior closer Barry Wahlberg to form Harvard’s own version of the Nasty Boys bullpen that made headlines for the Cincinnatti Reds in the early 1990s.

Ronz fanned five in 2.1 innings before Walsh called for the ball. Ronz graciously handed it over, his job complete, then waited on the mound long enough to give a high-five to Wahlberg, who proceeded to shut the door on Princeton like a gale-force wind.

Ronz was just one of the many success stories on display Saturday. Another was Sheffield, the former walk-on who could not find the words to express how he felt after the game. Still another was Lopez, who could.

“I think I’ll send my ring to the doctor who told me I’d never play again,” he said, alluding to the freshman-year eye injury that threatened to end his career.

But none of the Crimson players found more satisfaction Saturday than Nyweide. In 2001, he was the quintessential victim of lack of run support, going winless through his first four decisions despite boasting the staff’s best ERA. In his final outing of the year, one first-pitch changeup to Dartmouth’s Brian Nickerson cost him a victory he absolutely deserved.