Nationals Anecdote

I was privileged to read the following piece that I wrote on the Charlotte National Public Radio outlet this morning. The anchor prefaced my reading (which aired twice) with a comment about how the Olympic spirit can be found in places other than Athens. I hope you all see my pride in our Master's family in writing and presenting this, and I hope no one takes offense. "At the same time Michael Phelps was speeding through the Olympic pool in Athens, a 79 year old swimmer in lane 7 at the US Masters National Championships in Savannah wasn’t making much forward progress. His official entry form said that he could complete the 200 meter butterfly race in just under six minutes, but it became clear very early on, after it took him almost four minutes to complete just the first of the race’s four laps, that he, and all of us watching, were in for a long ordeal. Over the next few minutes while the swimmer in Lane 7 completed his second lap, the crowd of over 1000 competitors and hundreds more volunteers and spectators at the pool began to get uneasy. They knew that this performance would add an extra ten or fifteen minutes to the meet’s already long schedule on the last of its four days of competition. One of the swimmers in the bleachers near me said he didn’t think the guy could possibly finish the way he was going. Another said “I wonder if they’ll stop him. Maybe they should.” I must admit that my first thought was to agree. I thought, “What’s he even doing in this race? I’m only 51 and I would never register for the 200 meter butterfly, especially at the Nationals.” I also thought about how none of the men in my immediate family line had ever even reached age 79. About ten yards into his 3rd lap, a single figure appeared on the sidelines cheering him on. Each time the swimmer’s head and arms popped up out of what seemed to be the deep, his self-appointed cheerleader would shout “Go-o-o-o-o, Go-o-o-o!” It only took me a second or two to recognize that that cheerleader was one of the very best adult swimmers in the world. “Go Doug, Go!” she shouted. Nobody joined Nadine Day, a 34 year old world record holder, as she cheered Doug on, but I daresay we all sat transfixed as we watched this compelling drama unfold. When Doug neared his final turn, Nadine was on her knees at the end of the lane almost leaning into the water to cheer him on. She followed him all the way home on that 4th lap. When Doug was about ten yards from the end of the race, an ovation bound to become raucous began to build in the pool. I believe that that ovation and the cheers that went with it might very well have been heard in Athens. For some reason, Doug, who recently underwent hip replacement surgery, didn’t stop when his race ended. He turned at the wall and started on a fifth lap. Everyone gasped, except Nadine Day. She dove into the water, stopped him, and pulled him over to the wall to yet another thunderous ovation. I’m believing it was for the sheer joy of accomplishment that Doug wanted to keep going." Joe Gosha
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  • Former Member
    0 Former Member
    A few years ago I entered the animal event of the Oak Harbor Pentathalon (200 each stroke, 400 im), despite my apparent lack of a butterfly. I drew into the fast heat (oh no!) & let myself get sucked into going too hard, to the point that at the 75 mark I was in serious trouble. I was honestly entertaining thoughts of fake cramps etc., when I started to notice that first the age group timers & then the rest of crowd were going mental cheering for me as I saw the rest of the swimmers vanishing in the distance sporting their obscenely coordinated undulations as I spastically twitched through the water. Now I had taken part in lots of encouragement for older swimmers in the past, but I never dreamed that at fifty years old I would be on the receiving end...the agony continued...I made it (fervently promising myself that I could scratch the rest, but I didn't) & I credit those people cheering for the feat.
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  • Former Member
    0 Former Member
    A few years ago I entered the animal event of the Oak Harbor Pentathalon (200 each stroke, 400 im), despite my apparent lack of a butterfly. I drew into the fast heat (oh no!) & let myself get sucked into going too hard, to the point that at the 75 mark I was in serious trouble. I was honestly entertaining thoughts of fake cramps etc., when I started to notice that first the age group timers & then the rest of crowd were going mental cheering for me as I saw the rest of the swimmers vanishing in the distance sporting their obscenely coordinated undulations as I spastically twitched through the water. Now I had taken part in lots of encouragement for older swimmers in the past, but I never dreamed that at fifty years old I would be on the receiving end...the agony continued...I made it (fervently promising myself that I could scratch the rest, but I didn't) & I credit those people cheering for the feat.
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