The eternal question that both inspires mankind to create and foster intelligence as well as plague our sensibility and reason is ‘why’? Why are we here? Why are we who we are? Why do we hate? Why do we love? For today’s story, why do we play? That was the question I could see on a few members of the water polo team’s faces as they emerged from the pool after a 10-1 loss to La Verne last Saturday.

Not so painful was the final score as was the look in the eyes of Ben Speicher ’03 after the loss. Filled with frustration, confusion and helplessness, he explained his reasons for playing later that day: "I play because I like to compete. I want to challenge myself to improve and to challenge others in competition. I just love to get in the pool and compete against other teams."

The need for competition is something ingrained in many humans. It stems from Darwinian theories of social interaction and survival of the species. We are busy competing or we are busy dying. But what is it to compete? Is losing 10-1 a show of competition? What about a 1-3 record in SCIAC (the lone win coming against despicable Caltech) and a 2-17 record overall? Where does the line of competition end and the line of futility begin?

The answer to that question lies behind the adverse emotions laden in Speicher’s eyes, for, deeper in, I can sense the root of all human action, the base of desire, passion, and interest. It is the simplest of love that drives Speicher and many of us. The simple truth is that a sport has captured our attention, allowed an outlet for creativity and a means to make life vibrant.

"I first got into sports the same reason that most people do, because it is fun. If sports aren’t fun you shouldn’t be playing them," says Speicher. A simple statement, but it holds so much truth. A loss isn’t always fun, playing poorly is never enjoyable, but there is something that still makes getting in the pool everyday fun. What is it? I believe the explanation brings us back to where we started, not just this article, but this species: competition, the intrinsic desire to test oneself against others and the world.

Then to answer the question I originally posed, "are the Sagehens still competing?", I will respond affirmatively. They are playing everyday, they are not quitting, "Despite the struggles of this season, practice is still the best part of my day," said Speicher.

I was shallow then when I looked into Ben’s eyes as he emerged from Haldeman Pool, in what I considered water replete of bereavement and deprivation. No, I, like others, only saw the final score and assumed that any activity seemingly devoid of external rewards isn’t worth the water it is sometimes played in. In fact, the water was merely water, satiated with chemicals and sweat of men who had just played their hearts out not just to finish ahead in the score, but in their lives as well.