On a windswept upstate field one chilly May 2025 morning, the scene didn’t resemble your typical high school sports tournament. A parent blared a tuba between games. Others unpacked bagels, ice packs, and Gatorade from tents. Players huddled in the cold, some taping sore knees, others tossing the disc with locked-in intensity. No coaches barked orders. No referees whistled fouls. Yet the Bronx Science Ultimate Frisbee team was one of the most organized, disciplined, and fired-up groups you could imagine.

The Bronx Science Ultimate Frisbee team, the “Lone Wolves,” isn’t just a team. It’s a family built on grit, trust, and the thrill of the game.

A History in the Margins

Ultimate Frisbee has existed at Bronx Science since the 1970s—almost as long as the sport itself has been around. First played in a Maplewood, New Jersey parking lot, ultimate has always been a little unconventional. It’s a sport without referees, built on self-governance and something called the “Spirit of the Game.” At Bronx Science, it’s never had varsity status, never had the school spotlight. And maybe that’s the point.

“We don’t have any refs, we all just sort of have to trust each other, including our opponents,” said Max Miller ‘25, one of the team’s current captains. “No one’s playing for a college app. Everyone’s here because they actually love it.”

From the Sidelines to the Field

Max first encountered the team in spring 2022, not as a player but as a middle schooler watching the high school finals. The team had just lost an early game they were favored to win—but then clawed their way to the finals anyway. “The energy was unreal,” he said. “Everyone was still so hyped. That stuck with me.”

That year, stunned by the energy and community of the ultimate frisbee team, Max drove up their States tournament with his dad and ended up in the team huddle. No jersey. No spot on the roster. But with the right spirit and enthusiasm, he was already part of the team. That kind of inclusivity—being brought into the circle before you’ve even played a game—is part of what defines Bronx Science Ultimate Frisbee team.

By the fall of his ninth grade year, Max was signed up and recruiting others. The season was quiet, but things picked up in the spring. Casual courtyard throws turned into intense weekly practices. Players started hanging out off the field, hosting dinners, and giving each other ridiculous nicknames that ended up on their jerseys. “It’s a real friend group,” Max said. “It’s not like traditional sports teams where you show up and then go home. This group bonds.”

Student-Run, Spirit-Led

If you’re expecting professional coaching and strict drills, look elsewhere. Bronx Science’s Ultimate Frisbee team is entirely self-managed—powered by spreadsheets, Snapchat groups, and an absurd level of buy-in. Phil, a former player and dedicated Ultimate strategist, returned as a volunteer coach. Mikey Grauer ’26, who joined the team from Lehman High School across Harris Field simply for the love of the game, wrote a new playbook and designed a captain’s manual. Ken Miller—Max’s dad—along with Max and Edwin, a recent graduate, handled logistics like they were planning a corporate retreat: rides, hotel bookings, and more.

“That means if it’s gonna happen, it’s because we make it happen,” Jonah Bonin ’26 said.

That structure creates ownership—and an environment where players genuinely want to show up. There are no sidelines full of bored kids. No teammates coasting. “The vibe is just different,” said Bonin. “Everyone’s locked in. If you’re here, it’s because you care.”

States, Rebuilt

The team’s 2024 season was rough. Key players graduated. They lost many matches—embarrassingly, even to a B-team [a lower ranking team]. It stung.

But this year? Things shifted.

Recruitment began in the summer. The captains started passing out flyers, organizing pre-season practices, and drawing up new systems. They practiced in wind tunnels on Harris Field, just off the reservoir and train yard, where gusts tore through like something Biblical. “Most teams would fall apart in those conditions,” Miller said. “We didn’t.”

Early matches were brutal. But then came a breakthrough: a win against Fieldston, the reigning city champs. Then another against Beacon. Momentum built. Parents got involved. One parent secured a hotel deal. Someone brought a tuba to States—yes, really. A full tuba.

The Weekend That Defined a Season

The States weekend was the culmination of months of work. Friday afternoon, players snapped pictures outside school before piling into cars. They hit the road buzzing with energy, posted up in hotel rooms with highlight reels and manhunt games after curfew. The next morning, they were up before dawn.

Games ran 90 minutes long with barely 15-minute breaks in between. Players shoved food in their mouths while taping joints and re-strategizing. One player, Derek Rauch ‘25 played through injury. Others took turns limping between games.

And they kept winning.

The Lone Wolves beat Rochester in the quarterfinals. Then came a nail-biter against rival Stuyvesant—one of the most intense matches of the tournament. In a game decided by a single point, Bronx Science came out on top, punching their ticket to the semifinals. There, they faced Heschel, a top-seeded team known for its chaotic energy—last year, their coach nearly got into a fight with a parent. This year, Bronx Science stayed composed. After an hour and a half of committed and exhausting rowdy play, the lone wolves lost by just a few points. Yet the overwhelming feeling was of pride, knowing they walked away having secured third place in the entire state.

From 13th place and a losing season the year before, they’d clawed their way to the podium. No referees. No budget. Just a shared belief and a wind-worn disc.

The Spirit Lives On

After the semis, the team held its annual ‘Paper Plate Awards ceremony’. Each player got a handmade superlative: “Most Finesse,” “Most Murdock,” [awarded to Jack Murdock] the “Nora Auburn Spirit Award” [maintaining the legacy of 2024 Bronx Science graduate Nora Auburn.]

They ended the night at Mikey’s house—eating burgers, DJing on the porch, jumping off docks. The pain in their joints didn’t matter, nor the long drives, and tough losses. What mattered was the bond they formed.

Next Up: Build Again

This summer, the work starts early again. Interest meetings. Courtyard throws. Maybe more middle schoolers in the huddle. There’s a strong returning class of (now) seniors, a committed crew of alumni, and the same fire that’s been burning since the 1970s.

But for the players themselves, the team’s value goes far beyond drills or wins. As Avery Schrag ’26 puts it, “The thing about Ultimate Frisbee is that it’s not about how good you are at the game, how smooth your throws are, or how quick your cuts. At its core, the game is about playing for the sake of playing, and what matters the most is that you feel the spirit of the game and you get others to feel it as well. The best players in ultimate aren’t always the ones who score the most points–they’re the ones who bring the kind of energy their team needs to score.”

At Bronx Science, Ultimate Frisbee isn’t just a game. It’s a culture. A self-run, wind-beaten, bagel-fueled, tuba-soundtracked community—defined not by scores, rules, or titles, but by the unique spirit cultivated that can only be found in this corner of Bronx Science.

But for the players themselves, the team’s value goes far beyond drills or wins. As Avery Schrag ’26 puts it, “The thing about Ultimate Frisbee is that it’s not about how good you are at the game, how smooth your throws are, or how quick your cuts. At its core, the game is about playing for the sake of playing, and what matters the most is that you feel the spirit of the game and you get others to feel it as well. The best players in ultimate aren’t always the ones who score the most points–they’re the ones who bring the kind of energy their team needs to score.”