In the Conlan Center, the infectious energy of games played long ago, of new-student orientations, of sportsmanship and fanfare, seem to linger even when the bleachers are empty. Listen closely and you might hear the thumping of a basketball on a desolate court, or a chant, off in the distance, of “go penguins.” You can feel the charge of electricity in the air, smell the sweat, taste the victories.

The Dominican igloo, a sacred temple of athletics, sees a procession of new faces every year. Still, the phantoms of past students remain, forever enshrined in trophy cases, making up the fabric of Dominican’s colorful tapestry. They are always here, haunting and inspiring the modern generation. The games will end, but the accomplishments of these intrepid athletes may outlive us all.