I’ll never forget the day I received my first recruiting letter from Harvard football. Standing in my kitchen in Gilbert, Arizona, I thought, “Harvard has a football team?!?” I had grown up in an active family of 4 boys. We swam, we ran triathlons, we played soccer, baseball, basketball, and football. We turned everything we did into a brotherly competition, and as we grew older we each found success on our own teams. Football became my passion. I dedicated myself to the game and my goal was to play Division 1A football, hopefully for my hometown school: ASU. As the recruiting process got underway during my senior year of high school, it started to become clear that I might need to find a new dream. At the time, not getting any Division 1A scholarship offers felt like a failure. It seemed that all the hard work—summers spent at camps and traveling the country with my dad to get noticed—had been wasted. But the arrival of that letter marked the beginning of the most important decision I ever made.

When I chose to play football at Harvard, I believed I was giving up on a dream. A dream to play big time college football and any chance I had at playing in the NFL. I accepted that, instead, I would be getting an elite education while also continuing to play a game I loved. It wasn’t the worst problem to have. It wasn’t long before I realized Harvard was the place for me. Seniors like Ryan Fitzgerald, Marc Laborsky, and the inseparable duo of Fried and Lahaie made a fast impression. Admittedly their athletic abilities exceeded my expectations, but it was their work ethic, dedication to football, and commitment to the team that truly captivated me. Dante Balestracci was a prime example for me of a guy that knew he was the best player every time he stepped on the field but treated each teammate with the same respect. Upon arrival to pre-season training, one of the first things you learn as a Harvard Football player are the lyrics to 10,000 men of Harvard-in both English and Latin. As a first-year, I didn’t think too much about the meaning of this short fight song, and I certainly didn’t imagine that there would ever literally be 10,000 men of Harvard rallying behind me, but maybe I should have.

The magic of Harvard Football doesn’t lie in the National Championship banners or the number of games broadcast on TV. It lies with the men that made the same decision I had: to continue playing a game they loved with no other guarantees. Athletic scholarships were nonexistent, so the driving force behind the team has always been the love of the game and the camaraderie. I loved that a player’s value on the team wasn’t determined by the stat line, but by the effort put in and the pride one took in being fully committed.

Coach Murphy always referenced our grit, our toughness, our “blue-collardness”, but I marveled at his ability to nationally recruit players that took these values to another level. I was constantly in awe of fellow classmates like Bama, Coesen, Rodney, Dougie B and Nicky C. knowing they were going to show up and put in the work every day. I was amazed by the selflessness of Joe Kaw, Ray, B Lap, Smitty and Bechdol who always put team first. I remember with hatred, but now also love, those walks over the bridge with Tracy $, Kace, Byrd, Bobby and Niems when it was still dark out and the snow was actually just gray sludge looking for an opportunity to hop into your shoes and freeze your feet. And I learned the true meaning of loyalty from guys like Stray dog, Harv, Max and G Schires who gave the program everything they had even if it didn’t always reciprocate.

My most vivid memories are those that have the strongest emotions tied to them. During my freshman season, I cherished being part of victories and witnessing the class of ‘02 enjoy an undefeated season. I was INSPIRED to make the same happen for our class of ‘05. I remember the feeling of CONFIDENCE when Coach Jimmy Turner approached me during my freshman year saying, “Don’t you EVER be a ‘wimp’ (or something more colorful) and you’re going to kill this league.” He believed in me before I believed in myself. I was EMBARRASSED in 2002, when Harvard was featured on College Gameday only to lose 44-9 to UPenn and watch them smoke cigars on the field (I still get unreasonably upset thinking about it). Soon after, I recall the feeling of PRIDE contributing to a win over Yale at home in 2002. Seeing Neil Rose take the final knee to end his exceptional Harvard career with a win was unforgettable.

I learned an important lesson on SHAME when I broke my hand during the 2003 season and returned before fully healing. Coach Murphy made sure I felt the weight of that decision, teaching me the importance of putting the team above myself. I watched Clifton Dawson and Brian Edwards with BEWILDERMENT each and every time they sprinted down the field. I don’t recall exactly what Jenks said at halftime during our senior season when we were down 31-10 at Brown, but his passionate speech filled the locker room with HOPE that left a lasting impression. To this day, I still count finishing our senior season undefeated as an unparalleled ACCOMPLISHMENT, knowing all of our hard work and dedication had ushered us to victory.

Coach Murphy often says the 2004 team was the best he ever coached at Harvard and believes we could have contended for the FCS Championship. While we’ll never know, I do know that our team instilled core values in me that shaped who I am today. Throughout my NFL career, I felt a responsibility to make my Harvard teammates proud, striving to represent Harvard football with the same grit and determination it taught me. Of all the teams I have played for (yes, it’s a lot) I am proud to say I identify as a Harvard football player above all else. The unique connection forged through Harvard football only strengthens as we move further from our playing days. For me, being a Man of Harvard holds true meaning. With it comes an expectation to not only uphold the standard set by the men that came before you, but also lay a foundation for those to come. I realize now how lucky I am—not just for the opportunity I had to continue playing the game we all love, but for the lifelong bonds this program creates.