Just two years ago, he seemed destined to become a mere footnote, a vague memory, the answer to an unasked trivia question. After watching the 2000 Harvard football season transform Barry Wahlberg from starting quarterback into forgotten reserve, few could have predicted that his senior year would find him chasing ghosts in the Crimson record books. Fewer still might have guessed that the records in question would come not in football, but in baseball.

“If he can stay healthy this year, he’s got a good chance of breaking some appearance records here at Harvard,” says veteran Harvard baseball coach Joe Walsh of his dynamic closer. “He always wants the ball, and I want to give it to him.”

Wahlberg, no longer a frustrated backup quarterback, has blossomed in his new role as the ace of the Crimson bullpen, leaving his disappointing memories of the gridiron behind. And while he is now able to look back on his football days without regret, he does so only because he has succeeded in making the difficult transition that could ultimately turn him into an all-time great.

Entering camp as a sophomore, Wahlberg was one of several competitors for the quarterback job vacated by Rich Linden ’00 and Brad Wilford ’00. Impressed by his live arm and overall athletic ability, football coach Tim Murphy slated the untested Wahlberg as the starter for the season opener against Holy Cross. But when he was intercepted three times while completing only four of his first 16 pass attempts, the sophomore was benched in favor of then-unknown junior Neil Rose, who took the job and ran. Sitting idle and discouraged on the sidelines, Wahlberg soon found himself daydreaming of diamonds.

“Football definitely wasn’t turning out the way I wanted it to,” remembers Wahlberg. “And growing up playing baseball since I was like four years old, it was already hard for me to take a year off from it.”

Unwilling to watch another baseball season go by, Wahlberg decided to approach Walsh. Though the flame-throwing righty was not officially recruited by the Harvard baseball program out of high school, Walsh maintains that he was aware of him, and had hoped that he would attempt the switch. Offered a spot on the Crimson nine if he wanted it, Wahlberg quickly made the decision to play baseball—and only baseball.

“It was a decision I had to make to either be mediocre at both sports, because I would have to divvy up my time, or try to excel at one,” Wahlberg explains. “And I think the direction I went was towards baseball, because I thought that I could maybe have a career after school in baseball. In football I was physically hindered in some ways, height-wise especially.”

The choice was one that might have seemed unnecessary to Harvard athletes of decades past, as both Walsh and Wahlberg will testify. While Crimson history is loaded with quarterback/pitchers—most notably Milt Holt ’75, who garnered All-Ivy honors in both sports—the days in which an Ivy athlete can realistically star in two major sports have for the most part passed.

“It’s a tough thing here, combining [baseball and football] with the academics,” Walsh says. “I think the commitment that both sports have now in the weight room has changed dramatically since those days—and also there wasn’t spring football. There was always fall baseball but there was never spring football.”

Wahlberg admits that progress in the offseason has become an increasingly important criteria for playing time, and that missing reps in the weight room—or in spring football—is often devastating to one’s development as a player. Especially at quarterback, a position which by definition implies leadership, time spent away from the team can sometimes severely damage camaraderie and coordination.

But while his abbreviated football career may have left something to be desired, Wahlberg nevertheless attests that he would not give it up for anything.

“The experience of being on the football team has taught me a lot of things that have transferred to the baseball field,” he says. “Leaving the team was a tough decision, but one that has really worked out for me so far.”

Even after making the brief but significant journey across the Harvard Stadium parking lot, Wahlberg still had to confront the equally difficult task of re-learning the game he had left behind.

“The two sports are two completely different attitudes,” he says. “Baseball’s a lot more laidback, it’s not an in-your-face type game, so it was tough at first.”  

But once Wahlberg toed the O’Donnell Field rubber, fitting in was not a problem—a major league fastball tends to command instant respect.