Tuesday, May 26, 2009

A Look Back - Chapter II - The Schedule

"There are only two options regarding commitment; you're either in or you're out. There's no such thing as life in-between." -- Pat Riley

I’m a schedule-kinda-guy. I love knowing opponents and sites and what I’m going to do to prepare for each contest. I want to know the Steelers schedule immediately when it comes out. I’ll rush to the web and hope we are on Thursday, Sunday and Monday nights 13 times so I can get all of games without leaving my home. But I also feel the same way about the Pirates (I hope they are home a lot in August,) the Penguins (I hope they are home a lot in April,) and Pitt (I hope they play somebody strong out-of-conference.) I feel as though I personally invest myself in these teams and that schedule-showing ceremony gets my blood flowing.


This doesn’t solely apply to fandom. Rather, it has been intensified as a participant since my first organized team function. From Little League and St. Scholastica basketball to soccer with the Foxes and swimming with the Tribe, the schedule made you feel like a competitor, jolted a shot of life into your system. I know that I must of hounded John more than I should have when it came to the 2008-2009. I never really saw it from his perspective – he’s the schedule maker. When he sent that PDF to me in early August, it was probably a bigger thrill for me than anyone.


I didn’t know too much about how strong the program was, but I knew these schools were no slouch. Nevertheless, this looked like a ton of fun. I never would have imagined Davidson swimming so many high profile institutions – not because it couldn’t, but merely because I didn’t think the BCS teams would not want to swim a squad with an enrollment of less than 2000. Rather than lather you with details regarding each of the races, here’s a quick rundown of how I perceive the contest:


At Clemson - Saturday, October 4th. There were so many Tigers on deck in their bright orange warm-ups. Davidson’s militia was short-handed due to injury or ignorance. The team swam as well as one could against a stronger ACC foe with only 3 full weeks of training under their belt.

In the dungeon at East Carolina – Friday, October 17th. Tough day at the office: Class in the morning… bus to Greenville around lunchtime, swim a few events with your occasional signature race. ECU vs. Clemson would be a great comparison in so many ways.

Welcome NC A&T Lady Aggies – Friday, October 24th – John told the women how excited A&T was to swim the defending conference champs. Racing 50s and 100s instead of 200s and 500s was a treat for the gals.

Hosting Charleston for parents’ weekend – Saturday, October 25th – Bad blood resulted in guys’ team swimming tough and the girls’ team walking all over the Cougars. (Key members of the victory would not have much bigger swims.)

Hosting Emory – Saturday, November 1st – Third week in a row took its toll. Emory was better, but we made them look unstoppable.

Overnight at William & Mary – Saturday, November 8th – a true Homecoming for me, the kids seemed ramped to swim in a charged environment where everyone is on-top of the action. Despite the defeat, it could have been our strongest dual meet showing of the fall season.

Death March to Duke/South Carolina – Saturday, January 10th – Hopefully within the next three years, the Devils and the Gamecocks will view this as a tri-meet instead of a dual meet that Davidson’s allowed to participate in.

Day Trip to Georgia Southern Women – Saturday, January 17th – Unfortunately I did not make this trip, but John recalls three young ladies “carrying” the team to a very close victory. The gals got to watch the men’s basketball team play in Statesboro shortly after the meet, the highlight of the day for 95% of them.

Senior Day against Gardner-Webb – Saturday, January 24th – Two victories, lots of photos, maybe a couple of tears…it was a glorified circus complete with recruits, parents, friends, mascots, and agendas.

When the swimmers relive these dual meet moments, some will bring great memories of swift arms and legs or nightmares of feeling immovable. More often than not, the swimmers and divers are tired and wore down from being a Davidson student-athlete, and the results are not always as they would anticipate or envision. A lot of credit should be given to those competitors that put their heart into each practice and race for the love of racing and calling themselves a winner. Sometimes is difficult to find challenges and obstacles to overcome with each competition, but that attitude sets you up for success for the races and moments that should hold the most value to you and the team. Read what Pat Riley says - you’re either in or you’re out. I know I would want a teammate who’s all in and, regardless if they are fast, if they want out, there’s the door.

Next Entry – Turning Points

Thursday, May 21, 2009

A Look Back – Chapter I – The Road Is Long

Things may come to those who wait, but only the things left by those who hustle. ~Abraham Lincoln

If you’re playing football and your opponent runs the opening kickoff back for a touchdown, do you end the game right there?

If you get a new car for your birthday and reverse it into a telephone poll, do you just buy a new car?

If you get fired from your job, do you stay content on the unemployment circuit?

This 2008-2009 swim season for the Davidson Wildcats, packed with many great stories and sensational results, was not always filled with sunshine, cupcakes and walk-off home runs. The sport is unique for in multitude of ways, not the least of which combines individual with team goals, young men with women on the same but separate units, and having an off-season as long as your average weekend sleep-in. The pitfalls that accompanied the Cats did not define who the group was. The journey through the struggle did.

Those struggles came in many forms – physically, mentally, and psychologically. Hell, one of the kids on the team earned the moniker “struggle” for his propensity to lose track of time and priority. The physical hurdles speak for themselves – tougher practice regiments, lifting routines that left each athlete dripping with sweat, new training techniques (i.e. spinning, ninja room) that strengthened the swimmers more than they had bargained. Combine the 6AM start time, doubling three times/week and managing the strains, pulls and tears that injury can wear on an athlete, and you have a recipe fit for The Biggest Loser, the Junior Navy Seals or your average collegiate swim program.

Mentally, it’s no walk in the park. The aforementioned tasks should never be viewed as tasks if you want to continue up-keeping your varsity pastime as a pastime and not a job. Yes, the majority of the American public is not lining the streets to put themselves through this type of rigidity. The team, though, firmly plants itself in this fire and that inferno blazed out-of-control as soon as we set foot on campus for the start of the season. The pitfalls that ensued could not be scripted by anyone outside of the science-fiction movie business. Davidson College unfurls plenty of challenges and while it is/was unwise and unnecessary to self-inflect more pain, it is/was inevitable. This, indeed, was biggest mountain to climb – could we handle it mentally – not just the workload, but ourselves, each other and the price of defined success?

“There are two key areas of interest in sports psychology: understanding how psychology can be applied to improve motivation and performance and understanding how sports and athletics can improve mental health and overall well-being.” Great definition – I see the word “improve” twice or, in my mind, “taking bad situations and using them as fuel, not toxins.” This is perpetually the case with swimming, not just with Davidson but with any team that looks to accomplish something – to go in a direction that points towards promise and not just because that’s where the compass leads you.

And so it began, the final week in August straight through the middle of May encompassing what amounted to the entire academic calendar. The Cats were never far from the pool, even if the only time apart from each other came during holiday breaks, never lasting more than 10 days or so. Captains’ practices lead to coaches’ practices, increasing in intensity with every week, straight through the middle of November. Along the way, we had swimmers thrown out of practice for language, suspensions ranging from tyranny to inadequacies with “finding themselves,” injury bugs and rehabilitations, and countless hours of fatigue. Tears were shed, wiped away, and then shed again when no one was looking or under reflective goggles. Lines were drawn in the sand with regard to viewpoints and hard work never seemed to be as newsworthy to the squad as it should have. December bore a need for stringent discipline in the classroom and in competition, which gave way to January’s grind, February’s showcase and the spring’s chance for choices.

But that’s the beauty of swimming. It’s a lot like playing ball for Bob Knight or working for Donald Trump. You learn from your shortcomings and, with the right sense of purpose and determination, you come out a stronger, tougher individual. I’m sure Knight didn’t stop practice every time one of his players took a charge or made an unselfish pass, but in the back of his mind, he probably made a mental notation – “I like what I see there.” Personally, I love practice and that will never change as long as I coach. There was always a remarkable underlining every time we met as a group. Those brightest moments came to those that sought opportunity in every set and setback – taking a situation, using it as fuel.

I can write with confidence that the 2008-2009 Wildcats are better swimmers, people, and ambassadors of the sport and school because of what they went through and put themselves through this season. It was not always pretty. It was not always fun. But those moments that can be dubbed “remarkable” can be encapsulated by each individual. Listening to them recount the season, from their vantage point, is a true treat, a ride that, at its toughest, probably didn’t seem worth taking. In retrospective, it was worth every yard.

Next entry: The Schedule

Friday, May 15, 2009

Don't Let It Pass You

This weekend was a pretty big one for the world of swimming. The sport's most recognizable icon, for both extraordinary and forgivable feats, was back in the spotlight, again dragging the globe's attention by his coattails. It is difficult to find someone that has been talked about more over these last nine months than Mr. Michael Phelps. Transcending a once-in-four-year event into, at least on this weekend, a festival and celebration of swimming.

Never mind the DUI charges and marijuana obsessions and possible allegations with his interests in the opposite sex. Whether you are a novice or expert in the field of aquatic competition, you know Phelps as the most dominant figure in any Olympic-caliber sport. This weekend marked his return to the sport at the Charlotte UltraSwim.

What you may not know is UltraSwim is a meet that, although requires strong qualifying times, is open to any swimmer with such high marks. To put it in comparison, the cuts are not as swift as those on the NCAA qualifying level (i.e. slower) and many college swim team bring their entire squads to this competition to put a bow on their fine seasons (see Auburn and Florida.)

Last year, two of Davidson's swimmers trained for UltraSwim, stayed past the campus' graduation, and participated with some these very elite competitors. Their racing foes may not have had names ending in Phelps, but there were some on the Olympic level, for sure. The pageantry of being at the meet in 2008 might not have been as attractive as it was this May, but it was still a checkpoint and a privilege to represent the school.

In late February, Phelps announced he would be coming to Charlotte and many Olympic-caliber talent followed. UltraSwim was plenty creditable, but now it had the world's attention, as well as the casual fans that don't suffer from short-term memory loss who can piece together the equations, "Phelps - that fast guy those one all of those medals who hits the bong."

If you're still reading this far, you might think the purpose of the entry is to talk about Phelps or swimming or Charlotte or how there was a NASCAR race here this weekend. Actually, this entry is to commend Bryan Droll and Patrick Whitman.

Who are Bryan Droll and Patrick Whitman?

Droll and Whitman are two rising juniors on the Wildcat swim team that had breakthrough sophomore seasons. Both arrived two seasons ago as walk-ons, one four years removed from the sport and the other as raw as a walking tenderloin. By the time both were finished with this past season, they could gaze up at the Davidson record board and spot their names on multiple occasions. Both gentlemen hold stock in the exuberance the men's team has been energized with over the course of this season. Their hunger for racing and desire to be students of the sport is both respectable and respected.

Davidson's swim schedule culminated as a team on February 21st and the spring season, while guided by the coaches, was at the mercy of the student-athletes desires. Individual's goals were to serve as a compass for performance in March, April and May. Many of the swimmers have been training quite diligently with intentions of fulfilling time standards, improving on last season's missteps or just avoiding the 20 pound weight game that comes from simply avoiding intense exercise for three months. Many chose to take a more casual approach to their training and preparation (you may now draw your own conclusions...)

Droll and Whitman took it to another level mentally - something that might just have been missing from a majority of our swimmers. They did not necessarily work harder than everyone or put in more time in the pool. These two dared themselves to use their speed and challenge themselves against some of the best competition in the world.

Now imagine in ten years you looking back on your swimming career and you get to boast "I swam against Michael Phelps less than one year after he won eight gold medals." People would DIE to be IN THE SAME BUILDING AS A HOT DOG VENDOR if he knew Michael Phelps were in their presence. Think about it - would you ever pass the chance to volley with Roger Federer or learn a floor routine with Shawn Johnson or play best ball with Tiger Woods? The only catch to those opportunities would be:

1) a disregard of your ego

2) a slightly more disciplined approach to your training when others may not join you

3) onions

Droll's weekend was especially compelling and boastful. You MUST watch the clip of his 50 free finals race from May 15th. Of all of the swimmers in the heat, listen to who they focus on (the race is pretty good, too.) The fact that this young man made it to a finals race in the biggest swimming event on the planet at this given moment is both life-changing and program-changing.

You probably won't hear about Droll on the evening news or even the Davidson news - you might not be able to tell that our Sports Information Department does not put swimming on its list of sports to follow, understand or communicate with unless authorized to. Droll won't wither you with his arrogance or prefer special treatment from those around him. But he and Whitman did swim next to the greatest swimmer EVER in the 50 and 100 freestyles - check out the results of just how close he was.

UltraSwim will return to Charlotte in exactly one year. I'm sure it wishes it could commit to those top-end Olympians now to attract the sensational buzz it created for the last three months. Kudos to Droll and Whitman for understanding the magnitude of the opportunity and taking full advantage of it. I boldly predict that you'll see more Wildcats in this meet - thanks to Droll, they would not want to let an opportunity like this pass them by.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

A Sidebar to Priority

Do you know who Rich Behm is?

Certainly you know who the Dallas Cowboys are? No, he's not Tony Romo's back-up or the heir to the throne once owner Jerry Jones steps down. He's not the longest standing season ticket holder in Dallas or an oil tycoon with field passes.

On May 2, Rich Behm was simply doing his job, one that he loved, one that has little prestige, pay, or forgiving hours. The Cowboys were practicing in their “indoor” practice faculty and Behm, a scouting assistant, was on-hand to watch many of the rookies and free agent signees. He may or may not have checked the weather for that Texas Saturday afternoon to find a storm headed his way. Surely that would not be of much consequence to the scouting department. It's not like the region had never experienced a storm in its history.

That powerful storm, though, struck the Dallas region with incredible force and, in the process,
changed Behm's life forever. The unfortunate and painful aftermath of the gale destroyed the faculty and ripped apart Behm’s spinal cord, leaving the 33-year old paralyzed, never to walk again. Take a look at the facts in the link above - the story and the video tell the story.

Anyone can feel badly for Behm and everyone should be sending their prayers and care his and his family's way. Personally, I struggle with how this is a mere blurb on our sports ticker. I'm not suggesting this is a national or global tragedy and I completely understand there existing more dire stories. It’s a shame, though, that our headlines of sports discussion center around Brett Favre’s waffling or Roger Clemens’ fabrications or Mark Cuban yelling at Kenyon Martin’s mother. Those stories are mere fodder for the National Inquirer, in my opinion. Nobody will be drastically affected by any of those soap operas, no matter how positively or negatively they unfold. It’s a shame, too, that one of the leading stories in the wake of May 2nd real-life nightmare is “how are the Cowboys ever going to replace their indoor facility?”

I can’t imagine what Behm and his family are going through. I can’t fathom going to the pool and having the roof collapse above me while trying to evacuate all of the kids from the water. That’s not something your boss prepares you for in the interview, nor should he. I hope to continue to follow Behm’s progress and he attempts to pick the pieces of his life back together. I doubt the sports world will gain much perspective from Behm, but here’s hoping they realize just how lucky each of them is.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

No Occasion Needed

Normally I will not delve too much into my personal athletic adventures. For one, I really don't have that many. Two, there's nothing really interesting about jogging for a long time or getting eliminated in the semifinals of intramural hoops or shooting a 109 for 18 holes of golf, regular or miniature. Third, the entry would probably on last four sentences.

This past weekend, though, was very special - one that I will never forget and one that I never imagine would unfold like it did:

In my mind, it makes sense to create multiple occasions to see family and friends. I could never just go for a visit and spend some time relaxing with people I know. It's much more efficient to do two or more things on a visit. This weekend was the
Pittsburgh Marathon - back from a six year hiatus due to budget cuts and a lack of a major sponsor. I had been tracking this for about two years, whether or not the race would actually come to fruition and once it opened, I was on top of the registration.

The problem, if there was one, was racing two marathons so close together. The Boston Marathon was run on April 20th and that would more than likely take a toll on my feet. After about five minutes of thinking, I knew that I would not want to let this opportunity pass me by, especially since I didn't know if this was a one-and-done for the race. And NOW, I have a great reason to see the family. Again, this is all logical thinking to me.

The Dick's Sporting Goods Pittsburgh Marathon was on Sunday, May 3rd - start time 7:30AM. I woke-up around 6AM, had a glass of water and hopped in the car with Dad to the start. This is not early for my dad, even for a Sunday, because his tee time on the links is normally around 7:30AM.

I started the jog and a moderate pace and began hoping my legs wouldn't collapse at the end of the first mile from neglect, fatigue, wind, or a stray dog. As I passed the checkpoint for Mile 2, I turned the corner and spotted Dad, standing with a casual smile, waving. I yell out, "Did Mammaw make it?" He points to his left and there, with my mom, Christa, and Patty all cheering, is Mammaw - the greatest grandmother anyone in the world could have. I did not know if Mammaw would even make the race, even though it was a strong request of hers. We didn't know how much she'd be able to walk with the marathon crowds or parking dilemmas. But leave it to Dad, who found a spot for her to only have to travel about five yards.

When I passed my family, I turned back around after a block to give Mammaw one last wave. She still had her eyes fixed on me, waving back with her right hand accompanied the biggest smile anyone could spot. It was easily one of the proudest moments of my life and for the rest of the race, she would be in the back of my mind, the image of her basking in being able to say she watched her grandson run in her hometown marathon.

The cheering pockets didn't stop there. Around mile 5 - Watts' parents - who have been a big part of my life since my teens, were at a corner snapping photos of me jogging along the roads. After mile six, my cousin Lorenzo - all 5.5 years of him, galloped onto the course to give me a high-five with Kimmy (Zo's mom and my first cousin) laughing.

It might have been a coincidence, but the toughest parts of the course came between miles 8-15. We had to cross two of the three bridges on the course and the uphill climb to the University of Pittsburgh was pretty tough even if you were in shape. But then at Mile 15, the Majericks - or Uncle Steve and Aunt Phyllis as we call them, were there. Camped out since 7AM, the two of them looked so relieved that I had made it this far. Up to Mile 18, there were the Watts again, clapping and taking shots in the rain to help push me forward. Up the road I spotted Dad standing next to my pal Billy Stewart and across the street was Patty, Mom and Christa - on the road urging me to trudge on - thrilled they did not miss me amidst their own travels. As I looped around the bend, the Watts yelled one final time after the 19th mile checkpoint. A few blocks further was Mr. Ron Frank - one of my greatest bosses, coaches, teachers, and mentors I had growing up. Close to Mile 23 was Mrs. Hastings and Maria, friends that I grew up with since fourth grade, yelling my name and encouraging me to finish strong.

When I got the 24th mile, I was in quite a world of hurt and running low on steam. The 24th to the 25 mile was straight downhill and I think the sharp slope hurt more than the uphill churn as I was forced to move my muscles a little quicker. There were not a lot of runners around me and at the 25th mile mark, Dad was standing without much company. He yelled, "You all right?"

I calmly said, "Yeah - I'll be OK - thanks - you going to the finish?"

"Yea - I'll see you there." I didn't know how he was going to drive around the crowds and street closures, but if anyone could pull it off, it's him. From there, I trudged through the 26th mile and towards the finish to the largest gathering of people the city offered. As I reached the tape, I spotted Mom, with camera in hand, perched on top of something that allowed her to tower over the crowds. I crossed the finish, walked a few paces looked for the nearest cup of water - I sure was thirsty.

Now if you have never run a marathon or done some type of exhausting exercise, once you stop, it's difficult for your body to flick the ON switch again, especially if your effort exceeds your preparation. Patty knows this drill better than anyone and when she found me at the finish, she made sure I had mostly coherent thoughts, got me something to eat, and helped me get my sweats on. She knew I was in a ton of agony but that it would subside and that looking weak and pathetic was not an option. Christa retrieved my bag, Dad got the car, and Mom took my medal and drinks, all while Patty made sure I didn't roll into the gutter. Everyone had a role to play - almost like and EMT crisis drill.

The day continued with all of us going to brunch and seeing Robby and Liz. Mr. Watts had already developed the photos he shot and dropped them off at our house. Uncle Steve came over to see how I was doing and we talked about the race and how he was holding up. Dinner that night was at Mammaw's and we ate like kings. Lorenzo wanted to play soccer after dessert and who could say NO to him.

And once night came, I could reflect on all of it. I FEEL like the luckiest person in the world. Dad gave up his day of golf to round-up the family and maneuver through the Pittsburgh traffic. Mom made me special noodles and sauce and made special grocery round. Christa came with me to expo to get my packet and vowed that she would do the race next year with me. Patty sacrificed her weekend, traveling from Arlington to make sure I didn't injure myself and that I ate enough. My cousins, my family members, my friends, my grandmother were all part of what would have been just another Sunday in the clouds.

I realize, too, that I don't need an occasion to come to see the people that made me who I am today. Family is more than a Thanksgiving visit or card in the mail or the people that lived in your house growing up. I might not have gotten my best time, but none of that mattered. The pride each person cheering for me felt while I was on the roads was powerful and palpable. Understanding the happiness that comes with representing the people you love and love you in return is invaluable and I am very grateful to have the family that I do.