On September 24th, I got to attend my first-ever Harvard-Brown home football game – as a senior. Harvard hosted the 2019 game. The 2020 game – which Brown was supposed to host – was canceled (thanks, Covid). The 2021 game was, you guessed it, back at Harvard. This year, the pressure was on for Brown. My expectations for our performance as a host were high – higher than they’ve ever been for Harvard. Why is that? Well, let me give you a little context.
Harvard’s “big game” of the year is Harvard-Yale. An age-old rivalry, this is the game about which Harvard students most care and for which they most rally. We Brunonians, however, do not have a comparable age-old rivalry. So, Harvard-Brown is our main event. Our Oscars. Therefore, one would expect Brown to pull out more stops than Harvard on the hosting front.
Did we pull out more stops than Harvard? Having experienced the game and tailgates at both schools, I’d probably say no. We had the same massive tailgate outside of the stadium, the same elevated surfaces in the form of frat-sponsored U-Haul trucks (one of which I heard racked up $50,000 in damages), the same level of overall rowdiness and spirit (arguably too much, as evidenced by the concussion my best friend received at the hands of an overly-energized Brown football fan), and the same sting of Crimson victory on the football field (but like, who cares about the game itself). That said, I had way more fun this year at Brown than I’ve had in the past years in Cambridge. Why? Well, because of exactly what you’d expect: the mental and emotional comfort that accompanies the old home-court advantage.
There’s something comforting about having an event in your backyard and not having to sit on a train for an hour or squeeze into an overpriced Uber with five of your tipsy friends. Having a place – whether a dorm or off-campus house – to shotgun a Corona Lite, rather than having to do it subtly on the Boston Commuter Rail, makes a difference. Saturday morning, I woke up, shoveled down a bacon, egg, and cheese from Amy’s, sipped on a White Claw or two, and moseyed on over to Brown stadium. It was easeful – nay, lovely.
In the stands of the game itself, we Brunonians outnumbered those pompous Harvard folks – in students, certainly, but also in Providence community members. I watched as the young toddlers of Brown faculty members came face to face with the rowdy lacrosse players who’d been booze-ing since 9 am. A meeting of minds, if you will. The stands were as packed as I’ve ever seen them, and the once-a-year Brown football spirit and irrational superiority complex were fully displayed. Scoreboard? Irrelevant. Although, In the stands of the game itself, we Brunonians outnumbered those pompous Harvard folks – in students, certainly, but also in Providence community members. I watched as the young toddlers of Brown faculty members came face to face with the rowdy lacrosse players who’d been booze-ing since 9 am. A meeting of minds, if you will. The stands were as packed as I’ve ever seen them, and the once-a-year Brown football spirit and irrational superiority complex were fully displayed. Scoreboard? Irrelevant. Although they did come close to a rally in the second half, to everyone’s joyful surprise, they did come close to a rally in the second half.
Among all the excitement and comfort that came with the home-court advantage before and during the game, the best part about it occurred after the game on our beloved Thayer street. Had the game been at Harvard, I couldn’t have obliterated a honey barbecue chicken calzone from Mike’s just minutes after Brown’s loss. I couldn’t have taken in the familiar fall beauty of Providence as I strolled home. And most importantly, I couldn’t have returned immediately to the comfort of my own home, taken a nap in my cozy bed, and woken up hours later with no sense of space or time.
God bless Brunonia.