Throughout this whole process, you work, want, need to win. You rationalize the sacrifices by envisioning the final celebration with your teammates. Except that, in this case, you lose.

The loss came because Penn has the best quarterback in the conference and possibly the best wide receiver in FCS football. In three flawless minutes, senior playcaller Alek Torgersen marched his team 80 yards down the field. He completed eight of 10 passes and hardly hesitated.

The key play came early in the drive, when the Quakers faced a third-and-eight from their own 39. Everyone in the stadium knew where Torgersen was throwing—to third-team All-American Justin Watson, who already had 90 receiving yards on the night.

But nothing could prevent the inevitable pass. And nothing could prevent Watson from making the catch.

A defeat as crushing as this one leaves a long trail of rubble. Memories stick out like jagged rocks. The dust never really settles.

For Harvard players, especially seniors, I suspect that nothing can mitigate the loss to Penn, not even a win against Yale. There is no re-doing or appealing. There is, instead, disappointment that will fade but not disappear.

The only consolation lies in the hurt that the team feels. To an outsider, this statement sounds maudlin and overly dramatic. But it’s the truth. To want something so much that you can’t bear to lose it—that is the gift of sports.

In the immediate aftermath of a career-defining defeat, this gift might seem worthless. In fact, nothing matters more.

—Staff writer Sam Danello can be reached at sam.danello@thecrimson.com.