A serious question (I know, how unlikely is that?): I've been on the shelf most of the year since Nov., and I'm really curious as to how the new allowance of the single dolphin kick is being called. Not the official interpretation, but the actual experience of fellow breastrokers in meets, whether Open or Masters, local, zone or nats. At the time we originally discussed the new rule, there was the sentiment that some would push the envelope towards the second half-kick- is this happening, or are some calling it super-tight to avoid that?
Matt, you are hopelessly misguided (and long winded to boot). Allow me to point out that the breastroke is swum facing forward, which allows a swimmer to use the two eyes God/nature/happenstance (insert your chosen belief system here) placed in the head facing . . . all together now . . forward. As well, this happy forward-facing stroke places the nostrils in a generally downward direction, which anyone remotely conversant with the laws of gravity and the principles of liquids can affirm is, in the immortal words of Martha Stewart, a Good Thing.
No, my butterfly addled friend, the *** stroke of swimming is that senseless exercise in blind flailing known as the backstroke. It seems significant that it is the only stroke which must be started from the edge of the pool, with its own set of arcane rules governing the placement of one's toes, distance allowances while submerged, and varying tolerance for flipping to the natural, correct, and right side during the race but not at the end. Give me a stroke I can start with a manly dive off the blocks any day, and which doesn't require heroic anaerobic efforts or prophylactic measures to keep my head from filling up with the medium through which I am traveling.
And the fly is not actually swum by anyone who is not (a) an Olympic Trials qualifier; or (b) Dennis Baker. Oh, I acknowledge that some will occasionally complete a 100 here and, in the odd case, a 200 there, (why, I myself have been known to complete a 50, albeit with much huffing, puffing, and an interesting vertical kicking display near the end) but the reality is that those swimmers know, in their heart of hearts, that they were damn lucky simply to have survived the race.
No, the breastroke is a noble calling, worthy of its place in the hallowed pantheon of swimming. And a whole lot of rules.
Matt, you are hopelessly misguided (and long winded to boot). Allow me to point out that the breastroke is swum facing forward, which allows a swimmer to use the two eyes God/nature/happenstance (insert your chosen belief system here) placed in the head facing . . . all together now . . forward. As well, this happy forward-facing stroke places the nostrils in a generally downward direction, which anyone remotely conversant with the laws of gravity and the principles of liquids can affirm is, in the immortal words of Martha Stewart, a Good Thing.
No, my butterfly addled friend, the *** stroke of swimming is that senseless exercise in blind flailing known as the backstroke. It seems significant that it is the only stroke which must be started from the edge of the pool, with its own set of arcane rules governing the placement of one's toes, distance allowances while submerged, and varying tolerance for flipping to the natural, correct, and right side during the race but not at the end. Give me a stroke I can start with a manly dive off the blocks any day, and which doesn't require heroic anaerobic efforts or prophylactic measures to keep my head from filling up with the medium through which I am traveling.
And the fly is not actually swum by anyone who is not (a) an Olympic Trials qualifier; or (b) Dennis Baker. Oh, I acknowledge that some will occasionally complete a 100 here and, in the odd case, a 200 there, (why, I myself have been known to complete a 50, albeit with much huffing, puffing, and an interesting vertical kicking display near the end) but the reality is that those swimmers know, in their heart of hearts, that they were damn lucky simply to have survived the race.
No, the breastroke is a noble calling, worthy of its place in the hallowed pantheon of swimming. And a whole lot of rules.
