Returning to GoCrimson.com for a second season, "Around The Yard: Life As A Harvard Student-Athlete" explores life away from the playing fields for select Harvard student-athletes through their own first-person narrative. For a full list of blog entries, click here.
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Last March, surrounded by a couple feet of snow and huddled in Yale's New Haven arena, the Harvard Polo Team lost the pre-regional tournament to UMass Amherst after a well-placed penalty shot in the final seconds of the game.
This past weekend, in my last home game of both the fall polo season and my senior year here at Harvard, we had the rematch we'd been waiting for. The crisp New England breeze blew through the arena in South Hamilton, MA, and as we mounted up and started our warm up, it was clear the team was nervous; we knew this was a high stakes game.
Both teams lined up, the ball was thrown into the arena, and the game began. We started out with a few solid hits, driving toward goal. But UMass turned the ball, scoring first on a long, angled shot. We were then able to pass the ball up the field a few times, with a backshot into goal. The game continued to go back and forth, and at half time we were down by a single goal. The teams were evenly matched – but we knew had to avoid a repeat of last spring.
Fall leaves scattered the New England ground, as our coach took us aside before the start of the second half. He told us we knew these horses, knew this game, and knew each other. And we could pull out a win without a problem.
And after that, everything then seemed to fall into place. We were working together, passing smoothly, communicating with our horses and with our teammates. And once that happened, the goals followed. We caught up to UMass, and then passed them. And we had a momentum that couldn't be stopped, not until the final whistle blew.
As we all shook hands with UMass and dismounted, boots firmly hitting the ground, we tossed our mallets aside and came together in a huddle, the five varsity players with arms around each other. We put our horses away, grabbed some snacks at the tailgate, and talked with family and friends who had come to see the game.
Our coach took to the microphone, announcing the seniors and handing us each a bouquet of flowers and a golden colored cup of champagne. I'd be lying if I said I didn't tear up a bit after that. This was my team, my family, and I couldn't imagine a better way to close out our fall season.
