At the Queen’s Head Pub yesterday evening, fans of the New York Giants cheer as their team catches up in the last minute to beat the New England Patriots in Super Bowl XLII.

As the 13-yard lob from Giants quarterback Eli Manning glided into the endzone into the hands of an awaiting Plaxico Burress, giving New York a 17-14 lead over the New England Patriots in Super Bowl XLII with just 35 seconds left in the game, I jumped up and, after a quick high five with my roommate, I looked for one person: Tom Conley.

The Kirkland House Master has been a die-hard Giants supporter since the team played its games in Yankee Stadium in the 1950s, and as a cacophony of sound waves both jubilant but mostly anguished crashed against the walls of the Kirkland Grille, the triumphant expression on Conley’s face summed up the realization of an impossible dream that the handful of Giants fans in the room had just experienced.

Conley and I ran the gamut of celebrations appropriate at a sporting event, engaging in everything from handshakes to chest bumps, and then settled in for the final seconds of the wild ride that had turned 50 or so normally well-mannered and eloquent members of the Harvard community in attendance into a raving pack of grunting and shouting Neanderthals.

The crowd assembled in the Kirkland basement was probably pretty representative of any group of Harvard students who watched the Super Bowl last night. The majority were New England fans, lifelong and bandwagon alike, with a sprinkling of true Giants fans supplemented by a sizeable amount of Patriots-haters and a decent portion of those just there to watch the game because, well, that’s what one does on Super Bowl Sunday.

Supporters of both teams exhausted themselves and their vocal chords through the emotional roller coaster that was Super Bowl XLII, and by the fourth quarter even those originally indifferent could not help joining in and screaming at the television screen.

At the beginning of the game, fans on opposing sides traded some light verbal insults while enjoying a slice of pizza and a cold beverage. But as it became apparent that what was supposed to be the logical finish to an historic season by the now-18-1 Patriots had morphed into an exhilarating back-and-forth battle, we focused on the TV set and friendly banter was replaced by monosyllabic exclamations of joy and disgust.

During the epic fourth quarter that saw three lead changes and a heroic performance by Manning, the emotional rollercoaster the spectators in the room were riding was twisting and looping at full speed. After the Giants took the lead for the first time since their opening drive, a new hope sprung up in New York fans, while those backing New England seemed to realize for the first time that these Giants were a serious threat to the Patriots’ pursuit of a perfect season. After Brady engineered a drive that gave New England a 14-10 lead with 2:42 left in the game, the Giants supporters felt the suffocating weight of their dreams being crushed as those rooting for the Patriots felt silly for thinking that Brady might not pull off his usual magic and lead his team to victory. Finally, Manning beat Brady at his own game, and in one superhuman drive turned the impossible into the inevitable. Numbness enveloped the Patriots fans, while a wave of euphoria overwhelmed the Giants supporters. Those feelings were only intensified when on New England’s final drive, its last shot at preserving perfection, New York rookie defensive tackle Jay Alford knocked the granite off of Brady’s chiseled jaw with a devastating sack.

The game ended, and a downtrodden exodus of Patriots fans ensued. I celebrated some more with Conley and the other Giants fans and congratulated Kirkland security guard Bob Butler on the winnings he would receive since he had put money down on New York.

“I always win,” Butler said.

So did the Patriots.

—Staff writer Loren Amor can be reached at lamor@fas.harvard.edu.