It’s the nature of competition.

Since the dawn of time, man has competed against man—at first, for food, then women, then power, then more power.

It is no wonder that at the same time, we have seen the great evolution of sport, for it is human nature, played out in all its flaws and triumphs.

We watch it because we are really watching ourselves.

And we play it, always, for that taste of glory.

Which brings me to Harvard University intramural basketball.

Whatttt???

Yes, this competition has a history, which echoes from the halls of the fourth floor MAC gymnasium to the dusty parquet of the QRAC floor.

It has seen blood, sweat, tears, rolled ankles, thrilling dunks, and game-winning threes galore.

My question is: why?

The motto for Mather House IM sports is two simple words: “Fun and Friendship.” It’s about going out, getting active, and showing your house pride at any number of events. We’re not the best over here in Mather, but we were semi-finalists in football, play a mean ultimate Frisbee, and were the defending IM soccer champions.

I guess we still have fun. And I think most houses do, as well.

But sometimes, in some places, I question the level of competition that is out there.

Because, as we all know, we have fun, we have our friendship, but it’s always about one thing: winning.

And houses go to great ends to achieve these elusive victories that will lead to the ultimate prize in the Straus Cup.

They buy IM shirts, give everyone matching Under Armor, black, tight, uniforms to look “badass and intimidating,” even though it just emasculates them all the more.

They come up with cheers, and secret handshakes, yell profanities, and moon every once in a while.

I know: I’ve done it.

But worst of all, they bring in those ringers. This season, it’s IM basketball. And the ringers: the entire 2008 Ivy League champion men’s football team.

They are some athletes, out there, don’t you know? Just freaking ripped, tall, can jump a mile, it’s crazy. I never thought I would see such talent on a lowly IM court.

But it’s there, and even what they lack in skills—they’re football players, not Jeremy Lin—they make up for in pure, raw athletic power.

I’d like to consider myself a smart player. I know how to play defense without fouling, I know where to set picks, I know how to adjust to a sharp-shooting team. I can take a pick, catch a ball on the post, and hit it two-thirds of the time. I know how to box out.

But boxing out doesn’t matter when he’s 6’6 and has a 37-inch vertical.

In my heart, I love it. I like to bang with these giants, and I like to get to know the best athletes on campus, and they’re all really cool guys. I dig it.

But at some point, I think we have to ask: where do we draw the line?

The most notable case occurred two years ago. Zach Puchtel ’07 wreaked havoc on all those left in his wake during the 2006-07 IM basketball season. The 6’6 point guard dunked, cut, and shot Cabot to the top (see “From the Big Ten to the Quad.”)

He’s a good player, but what’s the big deal? The problem was this: the season before, he wasn’t playing Harvard IMs. He was playing in the Big Ten. He was starting for the Minnesota Golden Gophers. He was playing in front of 10,000 fans.

He was able to play IMs because he was not recruited at Harvard to play basketball—he was recruited for football.

But with so many two-sport superstars playing for the Crimson, my question remains: is it fair?

I like having the football team out in force. It’s great for competition, and it is genuinely fun. But for athletes like Puchtel, and those like him playing at Harvard now—those two sport stars who dominate, unfairly, in IM games—maybe the rules need to be changed.

My only request is if you change the rules, just wait until next year. We got a group of sophomores from the football team in Mather this year. One of them is sick.

And I, like everyone else that goes out and competes, want to win.

—Staff writer Walter E. Howell can be reached at wehowell@fas.harvard.edu.