Harvard’s equipment manager, Chet Stone, can’t come to the phone just now. He’ll be in tomorrow, but until then a message will have to do.

“What’s that you’re writing on?” the unidentified voice at the other end of the line inquires. “Ted Donato? Just one of the greatest guys you’ll ever meet.”

Like any number of athletes, when Donato was an undergraduate he’d work in the equipment room during the off-season to earn a little extra cash. He’d always been one of Stone’s favorites, but apparently Stone wasn’t the only one upon whom the young Dedham, Mass., product had left a favorable impression. Not even after 14 years.

“I just think the world of the guy,” says former captain Lane MacDonald ’89. “He’s just a terrific guy. I don’t think you can find anyone with whom or even against whom he played who didn’t like Teddy.”

“When we went to lunch or dinner, you wanted to sit at his table because you knew that when you left you’d have laughed the whole time,” adds former linemate Mike Vukonich ’91. “Teddy’s just a guy you want to be around. There aren’t a lot of guys like that.”

The attitude of the happy-go-lucky kid from Catholic Memorial was, in many ways, infectious, and those who knew him at all found it next to impossible not to cheer when he was one of the lucky contestants invited to come on down on “The Price Is Right”—even if they had been told ahead of time that the Showcase Showdown would ultimately not be his.

Of course, not many of his former teammates expected Donato to return to Cambridge to take the helm of his alma mater way back when. It’s the sort of thing you don’t really think about that far in advance, most say, though Vukonich couldn’t even imagine the Crimson without legendary coach Billy Cleary ’56 pacing behind the bench.

Now though? There’s no one those who know the program best would rather entrust it to.

“A lot of us look at him and say that he’s as close as one could get to Coach Cleary in terms of personality and passion for the game,” MacDonald says. “[But he’s also] very, very serious when it comes to game time and very few people can make that balance and also inspire their players.”

PRIME TIME PLAYER

With Harvard and Boston College deadlocked at three heading into overtime on Nov. 25, 1988, sophomore forward Ted Donato could barely contain his excitement. He prided himself on his clutch performances, and if he was off the ice with the game on the line, he’d get antsy.

“You couldn’t get him to stop talking,” MacDonald says. “He would always be talking, talking, talking. Sometimes he’d go on and on.”

On his third shift of that extra frame, Donato, skating with the Crimson’s formidable power-play unit after two trips out at even strength, finally had his chance. Allen Borbeau’s feed was perfect. The one-timer from the point sliced through the crease and snuck past Eagles’ goaltender Mike Mullowney to preserve Harvard’s thus-far perfect season.

But as his teammates poured over the boards to celebrate with him, Donato was lost in thought.

“We’re all going over to congratulate him,” MacDonald says. “And he’s just saying, “I’m a PTP’er! I’m a PTP’er! I’m a prime-time player! It was so Teddy, such a funny thing.”