Tim Murphy enters his 21st season with the Crimson this year as Al Bagnoli prepares for his final run-through at Penn with 23 seasons under his belt.

Spend enough time around college football and you will realize what is at the core of the game. Harvard coach Tim Murphy certainly has. Emergency triple coronary bypass surgery reminded him again last February.

Murphy had never taken a sick day in his coaching career before missing two months of offseason activities as he recovered from the surgery.

“The first time in my life having to take time off from being a coach was tremendously difficult and humbling,” said Murphy in an August teleconference. “It reinforced that I love coaching college football, I love working with kids, and I especially love working at Harvard and working with these kids. It reinforced how much this means to me.”

His return to the sidelines for a 21st campaign coincides with Penn coach Al Bagnoli’s final season. Bagnoli will retire after 23 seasons leading the Quakers at the end of this year.

Preparing for his final season has reminded Bagnoli about the central element of college football, too.
Conner Hempel knows it just as well. The senior quarterback started last season by lighting up San Diego, Brown, and Holy Cross as Harvard scored more than 40 points in each of the three wins.

Then he got hurt. He missed two games. And after he returned, the Crimson never scored more than 40 points in regulation again. Hempel’s passer rating in his final five games was 25 points lower than it was after his first three.

Zach Hodges understands college football’s central challenge now that he is a senior.

This off-season, he talked with his coaches about all of the defensive talent Harvard graduated: nose tackle Nnamdi Obukwelu ’14, captain linebacker Josh Boyd ’14, and eight defensive backs, among others.

Hodges knows he cannot fill all those voids by himself, but he has relinquished his throne at defensive end to roam more as a linebacker and edge rusher in the hopes of opening up more opportunities for his teammates.

He has given up expectations of breaking records in the hopes of being a “non-statistical force.”

“It goes beyond just being able to take on more plays or move around to different spots on the field,” Hodges said, “[I am] just trying to be almost more of a quiet leader, just trying to talk to guys one-on-one, trying to make sure that I’m there to support them.”

Senior center Nick Easton has seen the positive power of what so many college coaches must curse in private moments. He went from only appearing in four games through two seasons to making the All-Ivy League first team after his third season. An injury allowed him to fill in at center last year, and Murphy now believes Easton has a chance to be an NFL center.

Then there is the captain. Norman Hayes embodies college football’s central principle. He has already earned two Ivy League championship rings, but his most precious piece of jewelry rides around his neck: a butterfly-shaped ring he wears in memory of Olivia, his sister who died at 10.

Making Olivia proud motivates Hayes, he said. Murphy was enraptured with the story when he met the recruit. Stick around his team long enough and you will see why. Hayes’ story is painfully unique, but it is also emblematic for the Crimson.

On a smaller and more trivial scale, Harvard football is guided by loss. All of college football is. Teams lose players to injuries every week and graduation every year. Then there are the lost opportunities that haunt coaches—poor choices and missed chances that would help except there is no second chance.

The cycle of life spins so fast in college football and ends so suddenly. You must grow from loss or be consumed by it.

Murphy has been able to channel the inevitable defeats and disappointments a college program endures into motivation and victories. His team has won all but four games over the last three years, but Harvard has a lot of loss on its side.

Hayes’ grief and inner strength is incomparable, but there is also the quarterback who understands the value of each start, the defensive end looking to do right by those who came before him, and the coach who sees how easily he could lose what he has built.

The whole team also has two close defeats to Princeton motivating it. Just ask senior kicker Andrew Flesher how powerful those moments are after he missed a potential game-winner last year.

Defending champions and long-time winners are sometimes wanting for hunger. Fortunately for the Crimson, Harvard players and coaches have lost plenty.

—Staff writer Jacob D. H. Feldman can be reached at jacob.feldman@thecrimson.com. Follow him on Twitter @jacobfeldman4.