Four years ago, there was no replacing Isaiah Kacyvenski ’00—the leading tackler in school history, a three-time first team All-Ivy selection, the backbone of the Harvard defensive unit. No, there was no replacing Isaiah Kacyvenski.

Until Dante Balestracci ’04, that is. The second-leading tackler in school history, the only four-time first team All-Ivy selection in league history, the backbone of the Harvard defensive unit, now the source of the gaping hole in the Crimson front seven. There was no replacing Dante Balestracci.

Before junior Matt Thomas, that is. Or, at least, Harvard football hopes. Hefty expectations to place squarely on the shoulders of a player who has recorded no sacks in his first two years, zero tackles—one who hasn’t played a single down of regular season ball since high school.

But is Thomas, the 6’2, 215-lb. junior shying away from the chance to seize the next spot in a growing list of legendary middle linebackers?

Hardly.

Should he be? From the comparisons he has drawn, don’t count on it.

“When Isaiah Kacyvenski graduated we didn’t think we could replace him and Dante managed to and we are in the same position now,” Harvard coach Tim Murphy wrote in an e-mail. “If Matt Thomas is healthy, he will be one of the top linebackers in the Ivy League and we will make a relatively seamless transition to life without Dante.”

But whether Thomas can remain healthy is uncertain. During his freshman year, the Silver Springs, Md. product battled through the disappointment of making only the scout team—despite a departed coach’s hints that he would likely be thrown into the rotation on special teams—and frustration with his inability to effortlessly learn the defense to dazzle coaches and teammates in spring ball prior to his sophomore season, despite a nagging foot injury sustained during a banal sprint drill. That ailment, though it had failed to slow him in practice and had been repeatedly assessed as just routine, turned out to be far more sinister—a Liz Frank Fracture, a tear of the ligament between the first and second metatarsal in his foot which was slowly pulling the two bones apart.

A screw was inserted to repair the damage and the promise of Thomas’ spring faded in an instant.

“It’s probably as big of a blow as it could have been,” Thomas said. “But [Murphy] just let me know that I wasn’t going to be forgotten, just tossed to the side. He allowed me to travel and kept my place on the team—I wasn’t going to be left on the side.”

Nor, apparently, were the lessons Thomas had mastered during his push for a chance to crack the defensive unit. His teacher, fittingly enough, was the man whose void he now seeks to fill.

Befriended by Balestracci, Thomas learned the nuances of the Crimson defense while absorbing the seasoned veteran's instincts and ease of reaction, before at last feeling comfortable on the field.

“I could do less thinking,” Thomas said, “and more playing. I finally found my place in the defense.”

Mimicking Balestracci, whose academic approach Thomas credits with much of his growth, he complemented the talent he had always possessed with the clarity and vision necessary to effectively use it.

“[It involves] just knowing if, on a passing route, my man is going out, there’s going to be someone else coming in,” Thomas explained. “It’s just knowing what other guys responsibilities are on the field as well as my own, then being able to read the offense, step back and see everything develop in front of me and not have tunnel vision.”