[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Two weeks remained in the Summer swim program, with a final big meet down in Boston. It featured all the advanced AAU teams from the New England region, hosted at Boston University. It was the biggest meet of the season, and also the best exposure for rising senior class swimmers not yet signed, like Greg. Every major college coach on the east coast would be there. Greg had already captured the attention of eight schools, six at the D1 level and two strong D2 programs. A good showing at the meet would seal the deal, which had Greg working extra hard and extra long. He even had asked Monique to stay home for the next two weekends, so he could concentrate solely on his swimming. As much as he wanted to see her, Greg knew the distraction of a cute girl was not the best option. Monique understood, although she was a bit jealous of losing her cute boyfriend to chlorine and laps.

It was a wicked hot Thursday, the kind of August day that actually made people think of the colder days ahead as not such a bad option. Of course, those thoughts were just wrong, but nonetheless, in the 95 degree heat and high humidity, a good blizzard could look appealing. Jimmy did his usual bike ride to the pool, his sweat quickly soaking his body and his swimsuit as he made the trip. Jimmy had become known as the “Speedo kid” by those who saw his regular rides to the pool. Just as he did in his old blue swimming shorts, Jimmy simply wore his swimsuit for his rides to the pool. Most days he had on a shirt, but on a hot day like today, it was just the swimsuit. While his mom was not all that happy about his tiny little swimsuit, he convinced her that “all the real swimmers wear them,” so she relented on her pressure to convince him to keep the shorts.

Jimmy got to the pool just as the swim team wrapped up a really intense practice. Greg had been there since 6, spent almost the whole time in the pool. He was beat both physically and mentally. It had been a tough week, including a small meet earlier in the week between three local clubs. Greg’s team took the meet soundly, a reflection of the superior depth of talent and the reputation of the program.

“Hey Greg,” Coach called.

Greg reluctantly walked over, having no more desire to think about more swimming. He listened politely as the coach went over some areas of opportunity in his swimming, the whole time thinking he just wanted to get out of the swimsuit and go lay down. The teen girls along the fence drooled over the tall, cute swimmer talking to the coach. Greg had his hands on his hips, his feet about shoulder length apart, and his wet suit hugged his body tightly. It was no wonder the young girls enjoyed the view. Jimmy also watched as the coach and Greg discussed whatever they were talking about. Jimmy had not talked to Greg in a few days and was really hoping to show him his progress.

“Go get some lunch and let’s meet back here at 1:15 for some one on one,” Coach added.

“Okay, Coach,” Greg said with little of his usual enthusiasm. He was so ready for a shower, dry shorts and a lazy afternoon in a lounger. Instead, it was a cold sandwich from the snack bar, a diet lemonade, and another kick butt session one on one with the beast, Greg’s nickname for the coach when he was going too far.

Jimmy was doing his laps as Greg ate the dry sandwich. He had so much improved, largely driven by the extra workouts he was getting in several evenings a week. Greg watched as the skinny swimmer he saw eight weeks ago was now moving down the pool with a vastly improved stoke, doing near perfect flips, and had developed a strong kick. Jimmy truly was becoming a really good swimmer. “Time to turn it up a notch,” Greg thought. After all, Jimmy had confided in Greg that he wanted to join the swim team in high school, and while Greg knew that was no easy task, he was his usual encouraging mentor. “You really should try out,” he told Jimmy. “If you make it, you will love it!”

“Hey Jimmy,” Greg called from his perch at the top of the lane.

Jimmy stopped and stood. His face showed his excitement that Greg has come over to see him.

“Hi Greg,” Jimmy replied. “I am really working hard to make the team,” Jimmy added.
“I can tell,” Greg replied. “I am really impressed by how great your swimming has become.” Jimmy beamed with pride at the compliment.

Greg jumped in. “Can’t do much, because I just ate,” Greg advised. “But let me show you a few things.” Greg and Jimmy worked the pool like two serious college swimmers, the older one guiding the younger one.

“You really want to reach as far as you can,” Greg explained, “and then follow all the way back, take advantage of the full arm stroke.”

Jimmy tried, and while he was doing what Greg said, it was messing up his whole style. “I can’t do it,” Jimmy finally said, exasperated.

“I know it is hard, Jimmy,” Greg empathized. “But, it will make you swim so much better if we get this worked out, together.”

From his office, coach watched as the star swimmer worked with the younger guy. He smiled at the joy Greg was bringing to the younger kid, as well as the skill. He clearly had developed quite a relationship with the kid. Coach watched as Greg showed Jimmy new techniques and useful tips. Coach got up from his seat and walked out to the pool deck. He got just close enough to hear the conversation. Coach smiled. Instead of rushing out to start the extra workout, he opted to stay back, and let Greg work with the youngster. “An extra thirty minutes won’t hurt,” Coach thought to himself.

Jimmy was finally starting to get it, but the new follow through was a tough change to work in. “It is a game changer for you swimming,” Greg explained. “You keep working on that, I need to find out when Coach wants to get started.”

The two guys swam in side by side lanes for the next hour. Coach was really drilling Greg on his turns, especially his back to breast turn,. “Again,” seemed like the only word Jimmy was hearing the Coach say. At Greg’s level, every millisecond mattered, and Coach was certain Greg was losing too much time on his turns. By the time coach was done, Greg wanted to throw up, he had flipped and flipped and flipped so many times he was beyond dizzy. Every muscle hurt, and it was really time to get out of the tight, tiny swimsuit, even that part of him hurt from being smashed inside the slim cut Agon team swimsuit. Greg rubbed his crotch and tugged at the material. The momentary freedom felt great.

“Nice workout, Greg,” Coach said. “You are really working hard and it shows.”

“Thanks, coach.” Greg replied. With that he did his leap from the pool and turned to watch Jimmy swimming toward him.

“Great job, Jimmy,” Greg called out as Jimmy stopped at the wall. “You are following through so much better, and your reach looks amazing.”

“Thanks, “ Jimmy replied. “It is really hard, and it makes my arms hurt,” Jimmy added.

“You are doing good, kid.” Greg gave Jimmy a high five. “What ya say we go get a burger, my treat. Then hit the swim shop, I need some new stuff.”

“Awesome,” Jimmy replied, with way more excitement than he had ever shown before. “Hey, watch this,” Jimmy asked Greg. Greg turned and watched as Jimmy did a single hand leap out of the pool.

“Way cool, Jimmy,” Greg replied. He gave a Jimmy another high five. He had not paid close attention to Jimmy out of the pool, but this time, Greg noticed how much Jimmy’s muscular definition had changed. He was looking pretty athletic, Greg thought. In his red Speedo print, he looked every bit like a budding swimmer.

“I really appreciate all your help,” Jimmy said.

“Any time, Jimmy” Greg replied.