What Was Already There

As a camper I used to love the time at night where a counselor would stand in the middle of the bunk and tell a story. Unlike TV, when you listen to a story your imagination gets to paint the picture of the words and you truly can feel the moment. So, in this newsletter, I want to tell you some stories, and I hope as you see the story unfold in your imagination you feel the same thing we felt as they occurred live on the Hillside.

Earlier this week, we took everything we have spent an entire summer building, the brotherhood, the trust, the community, the confidence, and we broke it. Perhaps the better phrasing would be that we split it in two. When Color War broke on Monday our boys suddenly found themselves tied to different colors, different names, different cheers. We made them competitors. Not casual competitors. Bauercrest Color War competitors, which means all in, everything on the line, nothing held back.

On the surface, that sounds like the opposite of everything we have been working toward. I often preach values, the need to create brotherhood or moments for sportsmanship, achievement, or responsibility. But seeing the Color War unfold this week has shown me that Color War does not create anything. It does not manufacture heart or character that was not already there. What it does is shine a spotlight on what these boys have built. And when that light hits, you see everything. Every quiet act of courage, every moment of genuine brotherhood, every choice made when nobody was watching. Color War does not create any of it. It just makes it impossible to look away.

What I have seen clearly this week has taken my breath away. Here are just three brief stories from the current competition:

Let me tell you about Matthew Schultz, Captain of the Blue Savage. Matthew is intense. There is no other word for it. But his intensity is not the kind that shrinks people. It is the kind that expands them. Every single member of his team knows, without question, that Matthew sees them. He sees their effort. He understands their passion. And when he coaches them, when he pulls them aside and pushes them harder, they do not feel diminished. They feel believed in. There is a difference between those two things, and Matthew understands it instinctively in a way that I believe most adults spend a lifetime trying to figure out.

After a Senior A basketball game this week, a game his team won against a White WarDog roster that had every reason to win, Matthew noticed something. On the other side of the court, a White WarDog player sat with disappointment written across his face. Matthew did not jog over and offer a handshake. He walked over, sat down beside that player, put his arm around him, and stayed. He built him back up quietly and without an audience, without anyone asking him to. That moment had nothing to do with Color War. It had everything to do with who Matthew Schultz is and the type of leadership he brings to our Hillside.

Then there was also the story of Nathan K. In a Junior B hockey game earlier this week, a player took the floor who was not the biggest guy out there. Not even close. He was going into the boards against players who were older, bigger, and had infinitely more hockey experience. On paper, he had no business being the best player on that floor. Here is the thing: Nathan K did not care about the paper.

He fought for every puck. Every scrum. Every minute. By the end of the game, the effort pouring out of him was visible in the sweat that could have probably filled our pool two times over. But it was that effort, that absolute refusal to be outworked, that led his team to victory. I have watched a lot of Color War in my time in this world, and I want to say this clearly. What Nathan did in that hockey game was the single most dominant individual performance I witnessed in this entire Color War. Not because of his skill. Because of his heart. And because his heart made everyone around him better. Here is the best part, later that night I went to congratulate Nathan in his bunk, and when I did I saw him sitting with his bunkmates, laughing, smiling, and just being together. There was no bragging, no arguing, just a group of boys being the best versions of themselves, after seeing an incredible example of what it means to leave everything you have out there. 

One last story. In the bottom of the final inning of a Sophomore softball game, with the bases loaded and everything on the line, Asher stepped to the plate and hit a rocket into the outfield. His team erupted. They mobbed him on the base paths, picked him up, threw him in the air. It was the kind of moment every kid dreams about. And then Asher looked across the field and did something every parent, coach, or camp director would be proud of. 

His bunkmate and one of his closest friends, who had played an incredible game as a member of the opposite team, was on the ground with tears flowing from his eyes. The loss had hit him hard. Without missing a beat, Asher walked away from his own celebration. He sat down beside his best friend and stayed with him for some time, until he ultimately draped his arm around him and walked with him back to the bunk. In that moment, he put Color War down because something more important needed his attention.

That is the Bauercrest brotherhood. In each of these moments, every value we have talked about with your boys throughout the summer revealed itself in your boys’ actions. It is impossible to describe every story, my emails are long enough already, but trust me when I say, you share some of the most incredible young men with us. We are so lucky.

And, at the center of it all are four counselors. Jamen and Ethan Goldberg, Captain and Lieutenant and the White War Dogs, and Matthew Schultz and Max Pollack, Captain and Lieutenant of the Blue Savage  

These are competitive men. Make no mistake about that. They want to win. But more than that, they want their players to feel the thrill of a walk off hit, a game winning shootout goal, the pride that comes from giving everything you have for something you believe in. Neither Jamen nor Matthew has much of a voice left. And that is okay. Because they have used those voices to imprint the values of teamwork, competitive spirit, grace, humility, and so much more on your boys. And I promise you, these lessons will last long after the final score is announced. 

I can’t help but notice that as this Color War moves toward its conclusion, camp is also coming to a close. The boys who have lived and competed and laughed and grown here will soon pack their bags and go home. And what they carry with them will not fit in those bags. It will not be a final score. It will not be a trophy or a championship. It will be something quieter than that. Something they cannot quite name yet but will spend the rest of their lives feeling.

They do not know that the way Matthew sat with that player after the basketball game, the way Asher walked away from his own celebration to be with his best friend, the way Nathan left everything he had on that hockey floor, will be the things the boys around them remember long after this Color War is forgotten. They are not building a legacy with their wins. They are building it with their character. With the choices they make when the game is on the line and somehow, impossibly, they still find a way to think about the person beside them.

They do not know that they are the most important tradition Bauercrest carries. That the standard they have set this week, the way they competed, the way they led, the way they showed up for each other, is what gets passed down. Years from now, a boy will arrive on this Hillside and feel something he cannot explain. A sense that this place expects something of him. That the community around him is watching, not to judge him, but to believe in him and support him in the unconditional way that only a Bauercrest brother can. He will not know where that feeling comes from. But it will come, in part, from what happened here this week.

Ninety-five years of Bauercrest summers have led to these final moments of summer 2026. And whatever happens when that final score of Color War is announced, I already know that this community is in good hands. Because the boys carrying it forward are not carrying it with their trophies or their championships. They are carrying it with their character. And that, after everything, is the whole point.