Icebreaker: Tell us your favorite Homewood Field story

As a sophomore in 1963, I played in my first varsity men's lacrosse game at Homewood Field. As our team was leaving the locker room to go on the field, Coach Bob Scott said, "Gents, you are about to enter hallowed Homewood Field." How right he was. —Stanley Fine, A&S '65

It was May 1962, the end of my first year as an electrical engineering student on a half scholarship and a federal loan. I was working two nights a week and Saturday mornings at the YMCA as a lifeguard and swimming instructor for $1.25 an hour to make money for books and supplies. A friend asked me if I wanted to make seven bucks handing out programs at the lacrosse game on Saturday afternoon. I didn't know anything about lacrosse, but making $7 for a couple of hours' work seemed too good to turn down. Unbeknownst to me, the game was the homecoming game against Maryland. I was stationed in front of the alumni stands, near the band, and behind the team. As the game progressed and the scoring began, the cannon was blasting, the band was playing, the fans were shouting the count with "We Want More" after each score, and I was beginning to like this strange, new-to-me game called lacrosse. By the time I got paid and the second half started, I had become a Blue Jays lacrosse fan. Both teams had potent attacks, and the lead kept switching. Toward the end of the game, both teams had more than 20 points and the competition was intense. I didn't understand the game or know any of the players, but I was learning from the fans behind me and the players in front of me. I only remember one play in the last couple of minutes of the game—when the Hopkins star attackman was in the penalty box and the coach, Bob Scott, who was my phys ed teacher, called a play saying, "Chic," do such and such. I found out weeks later that Chic was Henry Ciccarone, senior midfielder for the Jays. I don't remember the outcome of the game, except that I became a lifelong Blue Jays fan that day and have been one for the past 57 years. That was my first and favorite Homewood Field story. I can't wait to get back in the stands and do the count with "We Want More." —Jim Zaloudek, Engr '64

One could not help but follow lacrosse in the '50s; it was virtually the national sport of Johns Hopkins. I attended almost every home game when I was an undergraduate, 1954–58, and I have two vivid and wonderful memories. The first is the outrage on the bench of the visiting team, Harvard, when, before the game began, Tom Lehrer's "Fight Fiercely, Harvard" was played over the PA system. It was later played again, this time with most of the fans—the Hopkins fans, at least—joining in. The second was in the spring of 1957 when Jim Brown led the North in an all-star game. I watched with amazement as the game changed before my eyes. Conventionally, lacrosse players were agile, lean, and strong. Brown was agile, large, muscular, and strong. His biceps and thighs seemed bigger than the bodies of most players; he moved down the field with ease, cradling the ball and knocking off defenders like the toothpicks they were. I don't remember how many goals he scored or prevented, how many face-offs he won, or anything else having to do with the specifics of the game, to say nothing of who won (it must have been the North), just that he was an indomitably spectacular player, like no one we had ever before seen. —Gordon Schochet, A&S '58, '61 (MA)

I was a part-time graduate student while my kids were in elementary school. As a student, I got free admission to lacrosse games. I don't remember the age cutoff, but children below a certain age also were admitted free, and my son was below the age cutoff. So a lacrosse game was almost-free entertainment on a Saturday afternoon. (Yeah, there was always some kind of edible treat involved.) One Saturday, when we got home, my wife greeted us with, "You were on TV!" WMAR broadcast the game that day. At one point, my son and I were standing at the fence watching the game, and the camera caught him there, barely tall enough to see over the fence: Kilroy at the lacrosse game. He is 6 feet, 4 inches tall now, and I still remind him of that day. —William Carroll, Engr '00 (MS)

Next up: What advice do you have for the newest Blue Jays to help them make the most of their time at Johns Hopkins? Send responses to with "Icebreaker" in the subject line. If we print your response, we'll send you a JHU pocket notebook.