The Dartmouth High School Spartans baseball team has not won a single game in six years. Yet, if you walk onto the field during their afternoon training sessions, watching them eagerly field grounders, practice their swings, and track high pop flies against the sky, you would never guess you were looking at a squad plagued by a half-decade-long losing streak. They do not carry themselves like a group defeated by circumstance. Instead, they move with the infectious enthusiasm of champions.
For this mob of baseball-mad teenagers, victory is not found on a scoreboard or inside a trophy case. It is found in the simple ritual of lacing up their cleats, pulling their team jerseys over their shoulders, painting their cheeks black to block out the glare, and stepping onto the field together. In short, it is all for the pure, unadulterated love of the game.
To understand the reality of the Spartans’ season is to understand the sheer magnitude of the odds they face every time they take the field. Most of their matchups do not end with a dramatic final-out strikeout in the bottom of the ninth inning. Instead, a vast majority of their games conclude early due to the "Mercy rule"—a regulation designed to spare teams further hardship when a score gap becomes mathematically insurmountable.
Curtis Snelgrove, the team captain of the Spartans, spoke candidly about the team’s ongoing struggles during an interview with CBC News, offering a perspective that highlights the unique spirit of the roster.
"When we lose, we usually get ‘mercied,’ which is when you give up ten runs in a certain amount of innings," Snelgrove explained. "And that happens probably 80% of the time."
Despite this daunting statistic, Snelgrove’s voice carries no trace of despair or self-pity. "Even through those large defeats, everyone has a blast on the team. We have a great time!"
That unwavering optimism is not accidental; it is deeply rooted in the very structure and philosophy of the Dartmouth High School baseball program. Unlike elite travel teams or competitive club squads that hold rigorous tryouts and demand years of prior experience, the Spartans operate with an open-door policy. There are no strict performance standards, no arbitrary skill thresholds, and, consequently, absolutely no barriers to entry for any student who wants to join the team.
This inclusive environment means that the roster is frequently populated by young men who have literally never had the chance to play their favorite sport before in an organized setting. For many of these teenagers, high school represents their very first opportunity to pick up a baseball bat, stand on a regulation pitcher’s mound, or experience the complex geometry of a live defensive play.
While stepping onto a varsity baseball field with zero prior experience might sound intimidating to some, the absence of barriers means that dozens of eager students are willing to take a chance. They willingly sign up, knowing full well that there is a very high statistical probability they will be facing a steep ten-run deficit by as early as the third inning.
Alex Ansems, a member of the Spartans squad, was one of those newcomers who found himself drawn to the team despite his lack of a background in the sport. Ansems openly admitted that he had never played a competitive game of baseball before joining Dartmouth High. Recognizing that his hitting, pitching, and fielding skills were raw and largely unrefined, Ansems decided to contribute to the team in a different, equally vital capacity. He embraced the role of the ultimate "vibes guy," dedicating his time on the bench to keeping morale high, cheering on his teammates, and pumping everyone up through the inevitable rough patches of a difficult game.
Those resilient good vibes have successfully carried the Dartmouth High team through six long, winless seasons. The camaraderie within the dugout has remained steadfast, weathering every blowout loss and defensive miscue without fracturing.
Interestingly, the team’s legendary losing streak even survived a significant structural shakeup within the school’s athletic department. Originally, the Dartmouth High baseball program operated as a co-ed team, bringing together athletes of various backgrounds onto a single diamond. However, a major shift occurred when the female players on the roster decided to break off from the co-ed squad. They formed their own dedicated women’s team, entered a local women’s league, and achieved a historic milestone shortly thereafter by winning the first-ever game for the high school.
In a competitive high school sports environment, such an event might occasionally lead to playful friction or rivalry between different factions of the student body. Yet, among the perpetually winless boys of the Dartmouth Spartans, the reaction was nothing short of pure, unadulterated joy. There is no traditional trash talk at Dartmouth about playing ball like a girl; instead, the male players were genuinely thrilled and inspired to see their former teammates succeed on the field.
"It was pretty awesome to see that Spartans baseball won a game, even if it wasn’t my team," said Benjamin Boehner, reflecting on the milestone achieved by the women’s squad.
The players on the Dartmouth High boys’ team may not possess the polished mechanics of seasoned veterans, and their collective record certainly reflects that. But as the teenagers themselves readily acknowledge, they are far from fools. They understand that the experiences they are sharing on the field offer lessons that extend far beyond the outfield fence.
The continual, repetitive lesson that losing is an inevitable part of life—and that one must learn how to pick oneself up, dust off the uniform, and try again tomorrow—is not lost on these young men. It is precisely this profound life lesson, wrapped in the joy of athletic participation, that keeps them returning to the diamond year after year. They take the field season after season, carrying with them the quiet, humorous hope that one day, they might encounter an opposing high school team that turns out to be even worse at the game than they are.
Until that day arrives, the Dartmouth High School Spartans will continue to play on. After all, the team is nothing if not game, and as generations of athletes have known since the inception of the sport, there is no crying in baseball.
