“DAAANNNNTE!” came the inebriated cry, in canon, from several undergraduates in Section 33 at Harvard Stadium on Saturday afternoon.

Dante Guido Balestracci had just tripped up Brown running back Nick Hartigan at the Harvard 15 to turn the ball over on downs late in the third quarter. It wasn’t a particularly crushing hit, and with the Crimson already leading by 31 in a 52-14 thumping of its Ivy rival, it wasn’t a game-saving tackle, either.

Section 33 didn’t care.

“DAAANNNNTE!”

The name is one of the best-known at Harvard, a rarity considering athletes aren’t usually revered here. He’s our own slice of a Boston sports culture that includes several first-name-only stars (see Larry Legend, Manny, Nomar and Pedro). And depending on his NFL fortunes, “Dante” might rival “Yo Yo” and “Conan” as the most famous first names to graduate from Harvard in the last 30 years.

“DAAANNNNTE!”

As they yelled, a wide smile broke over the sharp-jawed face of a man sitting five rows off the field, in the kindlier, gentler region of Section 33.

“Does it feel good to hear that?” he was asked.

“It does,” he said with a quiet voice, almost as if admitting guilt, “no question about it.”

It was, after all, his name.

But Dante Nelson Balestracci, the 50-year-old father of one of the greatest football players in Harvard history, knew the calls weren’t for him. They were for his son, the 6’2, 235-pound middle linebacker who has changed the way teams play against Harvard since first stepping on the Stadium grass three autumns ago.

On Saturday, Balestracci had a team-high nine tackles (no surprise), 1 and a half sacks, and a crowd-pleasing pancake block on unsuspecting Brown lineman Will Burroughs to insure Chris Raftery’s safe passage on an interception runback.

And as usual, Balestracci supplied several quarterback hurries, knockdowns and cage-rattles. He is, after all, Dante. These things are expected.

“Typical Dante game,” nodded Dante’s youngest brother, Thomas.

Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?