The Lynah faithful gleefully heckled junior goaltender DOV GRUMET-MORRIS throughout the game, but grew particularly vicious after Cornell scored its lone and game-winning goal on a power play in the third period.

ITHACA, N.Y.—Dov Grumet-Morris motioned to the small boy sitting in his father’s arms near Harvard’s end of the rink. The boy was wearing Cornell red, as were the surrounding fans, but the Crimson goaltender still gently tossed the puck over the boards as Harvard finished its warm-up. The boy grinned with glee as his father handed him the puck, but a voice interrupted the scene of holiday cheer.

“You still suck!” screamed the red-clad fan behind the pair.

Welcome to Lynah Rink.

If you’ve ever wondered about social life at big schools in the middle of nowhere, check out the Harvard-Cornell game in Ithaca where local establishments name coffee concoctions after players. The sellout attendance of 3,836 is a weekend constant for the Lynah faithful, a following to which words do not do justice. You have to be there to know what Big Red hockey really is.

The tradition of the Cornell fans’ fish-throwing has become infamous over the decades of rivalry. It began in the ’60s, when Crimson fans tied a chicken to the Big Red goal at Bright Hockey Center, poking fun at Cornell’s College of Agriculture and Life Sciences, and the Big Red retaliated in fowl fashion. And as one of ushers at Lynah explained to me, “What’s Boston known for but Beantown? Fish.”

Two years ago at Lynah, one fan hit the target, in this case, the face of Brett Nowak ’03 immediately following the national anthem. Nowak doubled over, stunned and in pain from the seafood onslaught.

On Saturday, I had hoped to avoid the rank smell after Cornell coach Mike Schafer and Big Red athletic officials asked fans to instead toss stuffed animals over the boards as part of a charity drive for underprivileged children. And while toys graced the ice, the occasional fish, and even a lobster, also made an appearance as the Harvard team entered the rink before the first period. Students had taped the seafood to their bodies to avoid being discovered when patted down at the rink’s entrance.

Throughout the warm-up, the Cornell aficionados had hollered a range of insults at the Crimson players while the well-orchestrated band played on. However, as soon as the fish hit the ice, the voice of the Lynah faithful condensed into an organized, and honestly frightening, block.

Even the national anthem was Cornell-ized. When the band got to “…and the rocket’s red glare,” the Big Red crowd’s scream of “RED” was jarring as students punched the air with the word and thousands of voices echoed through the small building.

The band’s integration with the fans was really the most impressive part, as the bandos dressed in Waldo garb (red and white striped shirts) led the cheers.

There were the typical jeers, all heard in Starr Rink on Friday night when the Colgate fans repeated, “Grade inflation,” “Safety School” and the ever-popular “You suck” until even they seemed bored.

But the Lynah faithful managed more creativity, thanks to stellar organization. Websites such as elynah.com inform the public of Cornell cheers and game plans so as to avoid embarrassing moments like when Harvard fans mumble the middle lines of “Ten Thousand Men of Harvard.”

The chant of “We had sex in high school” missed its aim, as it was too faint to distract the players and I don’t know of any other Harvard students in the stands besides me. For my part, I was stationed with the Crimson parents, a sparse quiet group in a sea of red, too few and too reserved to counter the Big Red taunts.

When I caught sight of Cornell winger Mitch Carefoot, the question “Where’s Tenderheart?” immediately sprang to mind, but remained there as I would have been just one voice in the wilderness of Lynah.

The Big Red following also applauded its own in addition to goading the Crimson. To greet freshman goaltender David McKee, who hails from Irving, Texas, at the beginning of the second period, Cornell fans burst into song as the band led “Deep in the Heart of Texas.” Schafer also garnered encouragement as Lynah screamed “Kill, Schafer, kill” when the coach argued with the refs after Harvard was caught with six men on the ice in the second. The chant is a leftover from Schafer’s days as a Cornell defenseman from 1982-1986.