Hail, Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us, sinners,
now and at the hour of our death.
Unless you have been living under a rock, I’m pretty sure we’ve all seen Harvard football’s highlight-reel “Hail Mary” against Colgate on Oct. 3 by now.
The play: fourth quarter, four seconds on the clock, Harvard down by three. The snap: quarterback Charlie Smith ’29, scrambling from defenders, suddenly hurls the ball from midfield. The pass: a 36-yard Hail Mary completed to sophomore tight end Teigan Pelletier ’29, who lands practically sandwiched between two defensive backs. The miracle: a lateral pass, something you would expect on the Mignone Rugby Field, not the turf of Harvard Stadium, to a first-year. The finish: wide receiver Nathaniel Bailey ’30 takes down the players and the pylon in his path to secure Harvard’s 20-17 victory over Colgate.
“Oh my God, he’s gonna score,” Smith said to “The New York Times.” For Harvard football, both the players on the field and the fans in the thick gray cement stands had their prayers answered—Amen.
However, the seemingly preordained “Hail Mary” play didn’t stand out to me as much. Now, don’t get me wrong. Anytime Crimson athletics gets the degree of national media attention it did in the last week and a half, it’s a pretty good indicator we did something noteworthy. The play was historic; there’s no doubt. Within minutes of the game’s end, outlets ran headlines like “Harvard’s Hail Mary.” The publicity spectacle, which seemed to pivot on the term “Hail Mary,” grabbed my attention more than the play itself. After all, what is a “Hail Mary?” And, maybe most importantly, how did they become more associated with American football than the Catholic Church?
Most people think the Hail Mary prayer has its roots in religion. The Hail Mary comes from two passages in the Bible: the Annunciation, when the Archangel Gabriel greets the Virgin Mary (Luke 1:28), and the Visitation, when Mary visits Elizabeth (Luke 1:42).
The prayer is part of a larger practice of Marian devotion towards Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ. By sacrificing her only “begotten son,” Mary stands as a significant figure in Christianity, inspiring devotion to faith. The Hail Mary prayer is notable because many believe it is divine, a heaven-sent message. Today, Catholics widely regard it as one of the most recited prayers.
So, how exactly did the term “Hail Mary” make its way into football?
Regular American football fans know that displays of faith are no stranger to the game. After taking the field, many players head straight to the end zone, take a knee, bow their heads, remove their helmets, and offer a prayer before kickoff. At all levels, even in the NFL, it is not wholly uncommon to see players form a huddle and pray in a circle along the field. Since the sport’s beginning, football and faith have been tied: football as America’s sport, faith as America’s values.
The Hail Mary prayer first appeared on the field in 1922; however, its legacy wasn’t cemented until 1932. The story of football’s first “Hail Mary” was told at the American Football Association Banquet by one of Notre Dame Football’s legendary “Four Horsemen,” Jim Crowley. Ironic, given that Notre Dame is a private Catholic university; even more so because the nickname “Four Horsemen” references the “Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse” from the New Testament. Sports journalist Grantland Rice, in a team-written piece, bestowed the nickname on four members of the Fighting Irish football team: “Outlined against a blue, gray October sky the Four Horsemen rode again.”
Crowley tells how the Hail Mary happened during a game between Georgia Tech and the Fighting Irish. After two Georgia Tech fumbles, a trailing Notre Dame struggled to move the ball downfield. In a moment of desperation, a senior linebacker who was Presbyterian suggested that the team say a Hail Mary prayer before a fourth-down play. “Boys, let’s say a ‘Hail Mary,’” recalled Crowley. And just like Harvard’s, their prayer was answered: Notre Dame scored not once, but twice, securing their comeback victory and, with it, a place in football legend.
In the century since Notre Dame’s historic first, the Hail Mary has been repeated and fully integrated into American football lingo.
While a long-range pass when all hope seems lost may be the first thing that comes to mind when we hear the term “Hail Mary,” in popular culture, it has become a colloquial shorthand for a last resort.
A student at the Berklee College of Music was diagnosed with an acoustic neuroma that threatened his ability to hear. Surgeons elected for a high-risk suboccipital approach; the patient walked away from the surgery entirely cured. A medical “Hail Mary.” After months of failed attempts to force Iraq from occupied Kuwait during Operation Desert Storm, Schwarzkopf’s strategy, the guise of a false attack led to Iraq’s removal by United States forces. A military “Hail Mary.” And perhaps most famously popularized by Hollywood, the fictional journey of Dr. Ryland Grace, played by Ryan Gosling, to save Earth proclaims itself as one in its very title: Project Hail Mary.
But across these cases, one thing is clear: the miracles did not happen by chance alone. The surgeons had decades of experience and carefully considered every step of that miraculous operation. Schwarzkopf’s military strategy reflected 35 years of service in the army and, undoubtedly, the collaboration of many tactically trained minds. Even the fictional Dr. Grace only makes it home through extensive scientific research and the support of a superiorly intelligent, benevolent alien.
Harvard football is no different. Our Hail Mary was the product of hours of practice in mock high-stakes situations Coach Andrew Aurich constructs every day. Players spent valuable time in what the “Wall Street Journal” fittingly called Harvard Football’s “practice laboratory.” As the clock wound down against Colgate, the situation which it presented had already been accounted for in the team’s preparation.
Then, should we consider the “Hail Mary” a calculated, planned maneuver rather than a miraculous twist of faith? I think not. While planning and preparation are certainly a crucial ingredient in the recipe for a well-baked “Hail Mary,” they are not all that matters in overcoming these implausible situations.
Whether at the hands of a visiting angel, a praying pope, a hopeful neurosurgeon, a desperate soldier, a stranded middle school science teacher, or a well-prepared college football player, the belief that the Hail Mary could work against all odds is what keeps it alive.
“I had confidence; we were going to execute,” Aurich said to the “Wall Street Journal.” In other words, he believed in his players.
“Now, we get a chance to win instead of tie it,” Smith continued to the “New York Times.”
Bailey, who admitted to the “New York Times” to rewatching the play ad nauseam following the game, realized only after the fact that there appeared to be a distinct moment on the field. Perhaps on his ninety-ninth watch, Bailey noticed his eyes, like Pelletier’s, widen with hope—the possibility of what they were about to do. “My eyes got super big, his eyes got big, and we knew we had the chance to make a play,” Bailey said.
Taken together, Coach Aurich, Smith, and Bailey’s interviews share a similar sentiment—faith. Faith in their preparation. Faith in their team. And the faith that they could execute whatever was necessary, be it a “Hail Mary” to defeat Colgate.
Megan Legault ’28 (mlegault@college.harvard.edu) hopes her midterm Hail Marys are answered.
