 Years before Harry and Thomas Alford would don University of Maryland lacrosse jerseys, the two were sharing a pizza when Thomas discovered he had a certain talent that would prove useful in his relationship with his twin brother. His discovery was that, when he contorted his face into one particularly absurd grin, he could make Harry laugh. Not just a short dog sniffle, but an uncontrollable shoulder-shaking fit.
“We’re just wacky and goofy,” says Thomas. “No one can understand us at all.”
As a high school lacrosse goalie, Harry had plenty to smile about even when Thomas wasn’t performing comedy. He allowed only 5.5 goals-per-game, boasted a save percentage over 70 percent, and just about all the Division I schools recruited him. Eventually, Harry committed to Maryland. Thomas, a midfielder and face-off specialist, earned a Maryland lacrosse scholarship as well, and the twins, who had grown up in D.C. and always dreamed of Terrapin glory, brought their googly-eyed grins to College Park.
It didn’t take long for Harry to establish ownership of the Byrd Stadium crease. In his first start, as a sophomore in February 2005, he stopped a remarkable 25 Georgetown shots. Of course, Maryland won the game. Such a dominant performance in the cage all but guarantees victory.
 And that’s precisely why Harry became a goaltender in the first place. Still learning the game of lacrosse as a sixth grader, he jumped at the chance to play goalie when no one else on his team was remotely interested. “It was the right position for him from the start,” explains Thomas. “As a goalie, the game is definitely in his hands. He likes the pressure.”
Against Georgetown, the pressure of his first career start had inspired a level of play that many collegiate goalies go their entire careers without matching. Clearly, Harry thought, the brightest of lacrosse futures sparkled ahead of him. And wouldn’t it be fun to share his excitement with Thomas?
The next day, Harry began explaining to Thomas that he was, in no uncertain terms, the best goalie in college lacrosse. No one else compared to him. No one. After a few minutes of this, Thomas became enraged, yelling at his brother. “Harry gets stuck on himself sometimes,” says Thomas. “He goes on rants, and I say shut it. It’s up to me to hold him down and keep him composed.”
And when Thomas says shut it, Harry listens. “After the Georgetown game, I personally thought I could play at that level every game,” Harry says. “Thomas has definitely kept me grounded and humble.”
A week later, Duke would do its part to keep Harry humble as well. He recorded only eight saves in a 10 to 8 loss.
 A month later, Harry was in a bathroom stall in the bowels of Navy-Marine Corps Stadium, leaning heavily against the partition and studying the dirty tile floor. Outside the stall, he heard the sullen post-game murmur of his teammates getting dressed in the locker room. Only minutes earlier, Harry had stood anxiously in front of the cage, the score tied at 8. Then, with fifteen seconds left in regulation, Navy attackman Graham Gill came searing toward the crease, and Harry rotated into perfect position. The game was on his shoulders, just like he’d always wanted it. From an acute angle five yards out, Gill fired in the winning goal. Now, in the stall, Harry replayed the motion of Gill’s shot in his mind over and over again. Occasionally, an assistant coach or teammate approached, trying to encourage Harry to leave the stall. He ignored them.
“It was really unique,” Harry recalls. “I’d never had to deal with that. Those were huge games, and I started questioning my ability: ‘Am I really good enough to have a good game against these teams with high scoring offenses?’”
“He could only get worse [after such a fast start to his playing career],” says Maryland’s head coach, Dave Cottle. “He got kicked in the teeth a little.”
“I’m really hard on myself,” Harry adds. “I’ve never had a perfect game. Never, ever since I was little. Yet to see one.”
Harry didn’t emerge until forty-five minutes later, but some of his teammates, including Thomas, were still talking with each other in the locker room. A few came over to console Harry, but he noticed that Thomas wasn’t one of them. When Harry finally looked over, he was surprised to find that Thomas’s expression was neither sympathetic nor even caring. Instead, he was face-to-face with the infamous googly-eyed grin. Harry smiled.
“I give him that face because I know that’s what I’d want,” says Thomas.
 But it was about this time that Harry began to realize that there might be more to his twin brother’s behavior than he had originally suspected. Thomas might have denied it, but Harry suddenly sensed that his brother was sending him a message, and this message was the answer to Harry’s frustrations and the key to fulfilling his athletic potential.
“I really checked myself, and I told myself just to stop questioning who I am,” says Harry. “I just have to go out there every single time to the best that I’m capable of.”
It was his emotional extremes, the ones that Thomas always tried to temper, that were holding Harry back. Saving an off-stick, hip-high bullet didn’t make him the best goalie in America, and incorrectly guessing low on a high, stick-side 50 mile-an-hour toss didn’t warrant searching out the nearest bathroom stall. “The challenge for Harry,” Thomas says, “is to just make a good save. He can’t think about the win all the time. Each shot is an individual challenge.” Harry headed into the ACC Championship with one simple goal: composure.
The results spoke for themselves: In the semifinal game against third-ranked Virginia, he recorded 12 saves in an 8 to 7 overtime victory, stopping two point-blank shots in the overtime to preserve the tie and set up the game-winning goal. And two days later, Harry blocked 15 Duke shots, leading the Terrapins to the ACC championship and earning ACC Tournament MVP honors in the process.
 After helping Maryland to a semifinal appearance in the 2005 NCAA Tournament and garnering second-team All-America accolades, Harry could have spent a relaxing summer boasting to his friends back in D.C. about his lacrosse conquests. The overconfident Harry Alford of the year before might have done precisely that, but his priorities had changed. “My goal for the off-season was to not to make it the off-season,” Harry explains. “Coming into sophomore year, I was really laid back, and I didn’t take [the off-season] as seriously as the spring. After going through the whole season last year I learned that can’t take a day off.”
During the first half of the 2006 season, Harry’s newfound emotional equilibrium has paid off. His save percentage of 63.2 percent is fifth in the nation. And his poise has been especially beneficial at the end of close games. “The Harry Alford last year would have lost composure emotionally and mentally,” Harry says. “But this year every game’s been really even. I’m just focusing on the next save.”
Thomas agrees, and he says his own guidance is the principal reason for his brother’s emotional development. Thomas adds that Harry’s biggest breakthrough came in the Virginia game, which, ironically, has been Maryland’s most lopsided defeat this season. Although Virginia scored five goals on its first seven shots, Harry never lost his composure, and he rebuked his teammates after the game for losing theirs.
 It’s the kind of performance that makes Thomas hopeful that his brother’s potential will reach fruition. These days, Harry’s ego trips are rare, but Thomas remains vigilant and prepared to say shut it when he has to. But Thomas has a secret: he doesn’t entirely disagree with the content of his brother’s rants. “He really is the best goaltender in the country. Sooner or later the whole country will realize that when we get into the playoffs.”
Meanwhile, Thomas’s own playing time has decreased, but as much as Harry has relied on Thomas’s support and guidance, it’s not a two-way street. “I know Harry’s supportive of me, but it’s usually my mom who keeps my attitude positive,” Thomas explains.
Off the field, the Alfords are nearly inseparable. They live together, they watch the same television shows, they both major in family and African American studies, and they even share the same course schedule. Both anticipate using their Maryland educations to further human rights, as well as to assist the growth of lacrosse to minority communities throughout the country. Harry Alford, Sr., their father and president and CEO of the National Black Chamber of Commerce, has also encouraged the twins to devote time to increasing the popularity of lacrosse in Africa and South America.
For as much time as they currently spend together, the Alford twins have contemplated experiencing life apart from each other for a while after they finish their studies at College Park. “It’d be egregious to think that we have to do the same thing, or have the same job, or live in the same neighborhood,” says Thomas. “But down the road, it would be nice when we have families to raise the kids together and carry on the Alford tradition of athletics.” The athletic ability of their future children is yet to be determined, but under the watchful googly-eyes of Thomas Alford, it’s safe to bet on their emotional stability.
Photos courtesy of John Strohsacker, LaxPhotos.com
Matt Fuchs played lacrosse in high school and club ball in college, and he currently lives in Baltimore. He can be contacted at matt@laxpower.com.
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