The Passion of Latin Lovers

Matthews looks at the player. "Which one is your answer?" he asks.

Matthews is seeking clarification because "robur" literally means oak tree, but is often used as a metaphor for strength. Because the question -- which Matthews later finishes -- reads, "The noun 'robur' is often used in Roman literature as a metaphor for what physical trait?" strength, not oak tree, is correct.

By this time, the player has had a chance to make up his mind. "Strength," he says, confidently.

"Correct," says Matthews, who reads the bonus questions. California gets both, bringing its score up to 130 points and leaving Virginia with no chance to win.

Except for one thing. There's a rule in certamen that says that if one part of an answer is wrong, the entire answer is incorrect. And, because the California player did say oak tree, and an oak tree cannot be considered a metaphor for a physical trait, one could argue that California's answer shouldn't count. Covington whispers that she should lodge a protest, but just as she starts to make a move, Husain raises his hand.

"Excuse me," he says politely. "But the question was asking for a metaphor and, uh, he said 'oak.' And that's not actually a physical trait."

Matthews wrinkles his forehead. "Let me think about that," he says, "and get back to you after Question 19."

Play continues. Leahy buzzes in quickly on the next question but gets it wrong. California grabs the tossup and gets one of the bonuses right. Matthews announces 15 more points for California.

Before starting Question 20, Matthews turns to Husain. "Just for the record," he says, "I would have upheld your objection to 18 if the score mattered -- but, in this case, it doesn't."

It turns out, though, that Matthews is wrong. California has 130, Virginia, 70. If California were to lose its points for Question 18, and if Virginia were to win all 20 points for both Question 20 and the redo of Question 18, then Virginia and California would be tied. Virginia still has a chance. When several people point this out to him, Matthews considers how to proceed.

"Okay," he says, after a moment. "Let's just do Question 20. Depending on what happens with that one, we'll see whether or not we have to redo 18."

The room falls silent.

"Translate the following sentence into English," says Matthews, glancing at the players. " Quamvis magna sit expectatio, tamen eam vincam."

A buzzer sounds. It's Fredericksen. "Although the expectation is great," he says, carefully, mentally checking his answer as he speaks, "nevertheless, I shall conquer it."

"That is correct," says Matthews. The Virginia cheering section collectively exhales. "Here's your first bonus: Translate the following sentence into English. Timeo ne omnes errores mei inventi sint."

Fredericksen consults quickly with his teammates, then turns back to Matthews. "I fear that all my errors have been found," he says. (When it comes to translations, certamen question writers seem to have a sense of humor.) "Correct," says Matthews. Fredericksen gets the next one as well.

Now Virginia has 90 points to California's 110, with 20 possible points left. What's more, because California's answer for Question 18 was disqualified, its team isn't allowed to buzz in on the substitute question. That leaves Virginia alone with Illinois, which has no chance of winning -- but its players are still leaning over their table, fingers poised above their buzzers.

"Okay," Matthews says. "Here's a makeup for Number 18. Quid Anglice signficat, 'perperam'?"

It's a vocabulary question: What does "perperam" mean in English? Fredericksen tells me later that vocabulary questions are his least favorite type of grammar questions, because they rely on memorization rather than interpretation. What's more, certamen leaves no time for thought -- to get the chance to answer the question, you have to buzz in before the moderator is done speaking.

Sure enough, a buzzer sounds before Matthews has finished. It's Fredericksen.

"Surroundings?" Fredericksen says. It's clear from the way he says the word that he's not sure. All eyes are on Matthews. If Fredericksen is right, Virginia still has a chance to make it to the finals.

"I'm sorry," says Matthews. "That's incorrect." (Appropriately enough, "perperam" means mistakenly.)

A player from California puts his head on his teammate's shoulder in relief.

As the Virginia team walks out of the room, Covington tries to console the players, who are clearly frustrated. "Remember," she says. "It's only Latin."

AT THE CERTAMEN FINALS THE NEXT MORNING, Virginia's novice and intermediate teams fare much better. Both win national championships, and, as the players walk offstage, they're surrounded by fans.

Overall, the Virginia delegation is happy, especially after learning it has won the spirit competition. In addition, Leahy, who has been awarded 27 ribbons and five medals for her individual performances and projects, wins not only the sweepstakes for the highest cumulative points but also the Lillie B. Hamilton Award, which one teacher describes to me as being the JCL equivalent of best in show.

By this time, the upper-level team's players are all in much better moods; they're still disappointed about the previous day, but they know they'll have a chance next year to reclaim their novice-level glory. More than anything else, they seem relieved to have the pressure off. As they joke around, Velchik starts introducing himself in Latin, and Husain launches into a monologue about certamen techniques that can be used to intimidate other teams, such as wearing a do-rag. Then he turns more serious.

"One of my favorite lines of poetry is from Virgil in The Aeneid," he says, referencing a phrase that frequently appears on Latin students' high school yearbook pages. "I think it's very moving and powerful, and it just summarizes convention really well. It's 'Forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit,'" he says. "Perhaps one day it will be helpful to remember even these things."

Catherine Price, a freelance writer, is a former Latin teacher and tutor. She can be reached at catherine.price@gmail.com