Relics of past glory line the wall on the second floor of the Coliseum. Faded photographs of boxers in shiny maize shorts are propped up on the counter. A newspaper article on Shamael Haque, one of Michigan’s most celebrated boxers, hangs next to the team photos in a sturdy frame. Dust is starting to build up, but no one wants to move the memories.

It’s rather quiet, except for the beat of the music — from a CD mix entitled “boxing hardcore.” The red, blue and white ropes lining the boxing ring and the seven punching bags are still, but not for long.

A rush of energy bursts into the room as nearly 20 women enter, drenched in sweat from a pre-practice jog. They are tall, short, white, black and Latina. They are freshmen, seniors and even University staff members. And every single one of them is ready to wind up and punch the stress-absorbing bags for two hours or until their arms give out — whichever comes first.

This is the world of mismatched T-shirt uniforms and sharing equipment with the men’s team. This is the world of women’s club boxing.

Club sports occupy an interesting niche on campus. While some club programs, like women’s boxing and martial arts clubs, emphasize instruction and weekly exercise, certain teams are as competitive as almost any varsity team.

The 42 clubs registered with the Recreational Sports department include everything from obscure groups like the rifle team to varsity sibling sports like baseball. The time commitments vary, but for some club athletes, practices and games exceed more than 20 hours a week.

Members of club teams compete without the perks afforded varsity teams: scholarships, brand new gear and a page on the official Michigan athletic site, mgoblue.com. They sacrifice their time, energy and grade point averages simply for the love of the game.

Still, there’s a dream that many club team presidents have. It’s the rags-to-riches, club-to-varsity Hollywood tale set against dramatic music, like the kind in “Rocky.”

In fact, five club sports — men’s and women’s lacrosse, men’s rowing, women’s synchronized skating and women’s synchronized swimming — have the classification of “club varsity,” a title Athletic Director Bill Martin created in 2000 to put ultra-competitive club teams on the track toward varsity standing.

The path to varsity status is riddled with intense requirements, funding considerations and legal constraints — meaning the University’s strongest club teams have to maintain that strength through mainly the will of their members alone.

NO-BUDGET RECRUITMENT

Men’s Ultimate Frisbee captain Ollie Hondred was the first club sport member to use the word “cult” to describe his team. But his counterpart on the women’s team agreed.

“Ultimate Frisbee can be described as some sort of cult,” said Anna Maria Paruk, captain of the women’s Ultimate Frisbee club. “At least for me, this isn’t just a sport. It can be described almost as a way of life.”

It’s not surprising that club athletes would describe their teams that way — while fiercely competing to snag the best non-varsity athletes on campus, club teams like Ultimate Frisbee rely on the dedication of their members to survive.

Unlike varsity sports with extensive recruitment budgets that include cross-country visits, club sports depend on word of mouth and their Festifall tables to attract new talent. Among the many lost freshmen and people looking to boost their résumés at Festifall are former high school athletes looking to keep sports in their day-to-day lives.

“It’s an opportunity for people who might not want to — or can’t — take the sport they’ve always known and loved to the next level,” said Cheryl Jendryka, Recreational Sports Assistant Director, who works with all club teams. “But they still want to be an athlete or they still want to go around all day and chase something on a field, whether that’s a soccer ball or a Frisbee. Same thing with rugby or boxing – you find these new sports this way.”

At the men’s Ultimate Frisbee tryouts in September, dozens of freshmen showed up with Frisbees in hand. As upperclassmen players tagged the recruits’ calves with Sharpie to distinguish them on the field, the aspiring members shared their reasons for coming. Some had been high school soccer players who knew they couldn’t compete at the Division-I varsity level and always enjoyed an afternoon Frisbee toss.

Hondred said his best recruiting tool is to find the guys who didn’t make the men’s club soccer team, which is lower than varsity soccer but still competes on a very high level.