The 25 Best High School Athletic Programs

This willingness to share is almost essential, given Poly's meager athletic facilities. The vast outfield of Tony Gwynn Field is the only decent-sized stretch of grass on the entire campus. (Gwynn, a 1977 Poly grad who went on to have a 20-year Hall of Fame career with the San Diego Padres, was a renowned singles hitter, and at his namesake park it's 495 feet to dead center, where centerfielder Desean Jackson runs down every fly ball.) Gwynn Field is used not only for baseball but also for football practice and soccer games. Football's annual foray deep into the sectional playoffs means that early-season soccer games are often rescheduled, and when the soccer team had a long postseason run this year, the varsity baseball team had to cede the field and cancel several home games.

There is plenty of inconvenience to go around. The swimming team has to use an off-campus public pool because Poly's is too small to accommodate all the swimmers. Meanwhile, the vaunted track teams practice on a dirt oval squeezed into a crowded corner of the campus; the straightaways are less than 80 yards long. When the cross-country runners set out from Poly, they dodge debris on cracked pavement for a mile and a half before encountering anything that resembles their sport's usual terrain. No wonder the boys' squad won five straight CIF sectional championships from 1996 to 2000. "If you can run your way out of this neighborhood, you can pretty much run anywhere," says coach Mike Fillipow.

This we-shall-overcome mind-set dominates Poly's collective psyche. In fact, students and coaches seem to take a perverse pride in their scrappy surroundings. Norford, who doubles as the boys' track and field coach, made a point of taking a visitor to see Poly's humble track. School had just let out for the day, and the campus was swarming with rowdy scholars and champions, but the dusty oval was deserted except for one buffed older gentleman toiling under an intense sun. Earl McCullough played six years as a wide receiver for the Detroit Lions in the late 1960s and early '70s, but he has come back to his alma mater to serve as an assistant track coach. As he painstakingly placed the hurdles, it was obvious that working at Poly is a labor of love.

After playfully heckling McCullough, Norford made a sweeping gesture that encompassed both the school and the sagging houses beyond it. "It's not much to look at, is it?" Norford said. "The only thing special about this place is the tradition and the kids. And the kids--they're more than a little special."