When the warm sun rises, and the crowd roars loud, when laughter rings free, and passion burns proud. Youth become a shining light, beating in our veins; dreams become waving flags, dancing with the flames.
Where sweat falls, on the blue track, in the soft sand, on the green field.
This is us at our best,
This is our best youth.
The call of the warm sun
In the early morning, a slight weariness lingered in the air. Yet, as the seven o’clock bell rang, it was not the chill that roused the students from their drowsiness, but the gentle and persistent call of the warm sun. Golden rays sliced through the crisp air, softly pushing aside heavy coats and drawing sleepy faces toward the light—a silent summons from the sun itself.
Slowly and orderly, the crowd flowed into the sports field, like tribes gathering for a reunion. Once seated, there was no need to search for familiar faces—the flags of each college glowed brilliantly under the sunlight, proudly marking their territories.
The shimmering wristbands and vibrant flower balls handed out added to the warmth, transforming the stands into a colorful, expectant tapestry. The day had truly begun under the generous gaze of the sun.
You couldn’t miss the joy overflowing in the stands or the energy pulsing along the sidelines. A chant led by a club president swelled into a unified roar, then melted into waves of laughter—like an entire forest of leaves rustling in unison, followed by the golden flash of waving flags.
By the railings, someone suddenly broke into song, and the tune of “Thunder” instantly ignited the crowd. Across the field, cheerful inflatable figures—big-eyed frogs and even dancing lions—drifted through the layered sea of spectators.
The cheerleaders’ skirts twirled, and the flower balls in their hands sparkled brightly. A student rose from the grass, gazing at the azure track, only to be met with good-natured teasing and laughter from those around. Then, a bold cosplayer leaped into the air, capturing every lens and gaze with a burst of creative flair.
All of this unfolded under the vast blue sky, gently embraced by the warm sunlight—it was more than just a day of competition; it was a day of light, laughter, and belonging.
The jumping pulse
Multiple events unfold under the same vast sky, always bringing a dilemma of sweet indecision:
Should we chase the lightning bolt tearing through the air on the hundred-meter track, or wait for the graceful, swallow-like leap over the fine sand?
Should we focus on the silver arc traced by the shot put, or hold our breath for the final lap of the fifteen hundred meters?
Every position offers its own unique view. And so, we wander along the edges of the field — tense ankles poised at the starting line, ready to spring into action, strands of hair lifted by the morning light beside the green turf, figures bent like drawn bows in the relay zone, waiting to receive the baton.
Have you felt the tremor? When waves of cheers pour down from the stands, when the numbers on the timer freeze, when the podium steps are gilded by the sun—those moments of breaking through limits make all the waiting worthwhile.
Have you sensed the warmth? What soaks the jersey is not just sweat, but also the warmth of a teammate’s pat on the shoulder; what remains in the sandpit is not just footprints, but also the guidance left by a senior bending down to demonstrate.
Every pulsing heartbeat on the field writes a burning footnote to youth.
The passion for houses
Looking toward the stands, waves of four colors surge and clash under the autumn sun. The forest-green of Wood House carries the deep, resonant rhythm of timber striking timber; the azure banners of Water House rise and fall like rolling waves; the blazing section of Fire House burns with unending fervor; and Gold House, gleaming like the golden autumn light, radiates with a flowing brilliance!
In the shimmering golden ranks, we breathe to a different rhythm. We do not blindly follow every burst of noise but instead hold our breath in unison during baton exchanges and clench our fists together on the final lap of the long-distance race.
Our applause echoes like the hammer striking steel. While the flags of other houses sway like a forest in the wind, our flagpoles remain steadfast—only tilting forward in perfect unison at the moment of certain victory, like swords drawn from their sheaths.
Different passions intertwine in the air: the solidity of wood, the fluidity of water, the intensity of fire. Yet the warmth of metal is never displayed on the surface—it resides in the shared gaze we lift with every beat of the timer, in the unspoken confidence exchanged as the medal tally changes.
This is the spirit of a defending champion. When the final whistle blew, the four seas of people merged into a roaring tide of cheers, each silently reflecting the gathered and radiant light within the boiling sound waves.
The Meaning of Life
A day of competition draws to a close, yet the significance of sports extends far beyond the field.
Sports teach us how to face defeat and how to define victory. They train us in perseverance and in respect. They make us aware of our weaknesses and push us to break through our limits. In each repeated effort, we come to understand the truest form of youth.
At SCIE, sports are not just part of the curriculum—they are an essential part of growing up.
Epilogue
Beneath the crimson sunset, the maroon SCIE Sports emblem shines, creating a charm unique to the green field. Pass after pass, shouts echoing across the pitch, the desperate sprint, and finally—the net rippling from the strike.
Sports embody the most primal desire and passion within life. They are instinct, a declaration toward existence itself, a challenge to one’s own limits. They are droplets of sweat, falling like meteors that pierce the silent, dimly lit night.
This was the best of us on November 28th—the most beautiful interpretation of youth and devotion.
This is us at our best,
This is our best youth！
- Article / Carlos Wang
- Photo / Jerry Wang, Lorris Tang, Dommy Lin
