[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Paul and Jimmy walked over to the Boston Sports Club on Boylston Street, just a few blocks from the Marathon finish line. It was a short walk from the Marriott at Copley and Paul knew they had a lap pool. Paul paid the one day fee for both Jimmy and him. The two guys got a solid hour in the pool together, shorter than what Jimmy usually swam, but long enough for Paul. Jimmy was happy to just get some swim time. Paul watched as Jimmy did his laps. The kid was pretty good, not nearly at the level of Paul’s own son when he was Jimmy’s age, but certainly very good for a swimmer who just started a couple months ago.

“You want to change and do some weights?” Paul asked.

“Never done those before, Sir,” Jimmy replied.

Paul smiled at Jimmy. “Jimmy, please stop calling me Sir, you make me feel old,” Paul replied.

“Sorry,” Jimmy answered.

The two guys got out of the pool, Paul up the ladder, Jimmy showed off his Greg inspired one handed leap. Paul had on a black Speedo square cut, which fit his older body well. He was in great shape, a tiny bit of excess weight around his waist, but very slight. Jimmy had on a Nike swim brief that Greg had bought him at the swim shop, it was a blue print. It fit his body tight, and he looked fantastic in it. Jimmy was even showing the signs of real abs, not yet all six, but two for sure and two more emerging.

In the locker room, Jimmy swapped his swimsuit for the blue swim shorts he had from his early swimming days. They would have to double as workout shorts. Paul pulled on a long legged pair of Reebok shorts. For the next thirty minutes the two guys did a circuit on six different machines. It was the first time Jimmy had ever tried any type of weight workout. It was harder than he thought, and he was weaker than he expected.

“This will really help your swimming,” Paul explained. “We’ll take it slow today, but maybe you can start including some weight work in your swim practice.” By the time they were done, Jimmy’s arms felt like lead weights.

On the way back to the hotel they ventured past the marathon finish line. It was still very early, the streets and roads were clear. Jimmy walked out and stood on the wide painted “Boston Marathon Finish” emblazoned across Boylston. One day he would cross that line for real, but at that moment he had no idea what the future would hold.

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The final event of the big meet was the Individual Medley (IM). This was Greg’s showcase event. To this point he had a great meet, winning all but one of his events. He was ready, pumped up, and as well trained as he had ever been. A good show here and the scholarship offers would likely pour in. Even a bad show would not preclude him from some offers, but the big programs would surely walk. Greg knew the pressure was on to show well. Win outright was a seal the deal result. Second would also likely keep the big looks at the table. Anything less and South Carolina or any of the ACC and Big East schools were out.

Greg changed into a tried and true team race suit for the big event. He had athlete superstitions and in his biggest races he always wore only his most favorite suits. The one he wore today was a really sweet print team swim brief that was a bold blend of blue and green colors. It was a custom suit made by Agon. He had only worn it twice before, and won both times. It felt great on, and looked far better than it felt. He walked to the pool with a mix of confidence and cockiness that could only come from an internal self assurance that he was about to fill the pool with his wake. He looked over at his fan base and smiled. A tense smile, but still a smile. “He feels good,” said Greg’s mom.

“Yeah, he looks confident,” Paul added. Greg’s dad sat silent, biting his nails, literally and figuratively.

Jimmy waved their traditional single hand gesture. Greg gave Jimmy a thumbs up. Greg was ready, so was Jimmy.

Monique snapped a cell picture. She thought Greg looked so cute, so handsome, so athletic hard. She blew him the kiss first this time. Greg blushed and blew one back. Despite the tension he was feeling, he certainly was confident and in good spirits. Coach came up to Greg and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “Just swim your race,” Coach said. “It’s just another day at the pool, okay?”

“Yeah, coach,” Greg replied. “I’m fine, really.” He was not quite as convincing as his outward appearance. His voice almost cracked from the nervousness. He as also rubbing his crotch every few seconds, a sure sign he was edgy. Monique picked up on that.

Just before the swimmers were called to the blocks, Greg checked his strings again. They were tied tight, double knotted. He might never get the swimsuit back off, but it was also not coming untied in the pool. He mounted the block, took his position and readied himself. One last crotch grab, as he placed his hands in race ready position. Jimmy watched intently as Greg edged right to the front of the block, exactly what he had Jimmy do last night. Jimmy played himself on the blocks in his mind. The line up of tight swimsuit clad, incredibly hot swimmers teased Monique. Eight of them all in a row. As swimmers go, the IM swimmers are all very muscular specimens of the male body. This race was no exception. For Monique, Greg was the hottest guy on the line. And he had the cutest swimsuit, with the best bulge.

The horn was loud, and the swimmers were off. Greg nailed the launch and glided into the water in perfect form. He was about to swim the best race of his career so far. Jimmy was going crazy with excitement. There was no louder fan in the whole pool. By the time it was over, Greg nailed it. In fact, he swam so well, he practically had the race sealed up before the final segment even started. He beat his old best time by almost three seconds.

Jimmy was right, Greg was the best swimmer ever. Both guys had an awesome weekend, Greg swam his most important meet ever, and he made them truly eat wake. Jimmy was even more inspired than ever. Monique was more in love.

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The call came pretty late at night. It was the third call since the meet. On Tuesday night at about 9 PM. Greg was laying on his bed face-time chatting Monique. He was in one of his most favorite Speedo brand swimsuits, just enjoying the interaction with Monique, which was becoming a little steamy as the two talked romantically to each other. He had just showed her a body shot of himself laying there on the bed in just his swimsuit, from his neck down, every rise of his body displayed on her iPhone screen. His suit was fitting tight as his body responded to her voice and his desires.

“I gotta take this,” Greg said, cutting off their romantic conversation. The caller ID said USC Athletics. He quickly answered the call, putting the phone on speaker as he flicked the answer option. “Greg here,” he answered.

How he contained himself is a blur. Greg hardly remembered the exact details of the call, except that the caller was the swimming coach from USC. He said really liked Greg’s swimming ability, thought he’d be a great addition to their team, was sure that he was being looked at by lots of great programs, and hoped he’d come down to Columbia, South Carolina and visit the school. It was all a blur, it happened so fast. Greg remembers saying he loved the Gamecocks, and really was hoping they’d call him. As soon as the call was over, Greg jumped from the bed, never gave a thought that he was wearing nothing more than his swimsuit. Greg ran from his guest bedroom into the kitchen where Paul and Buffy were having a quiet glass of wine.

“I’m going to USC!” Greg blurted. “This is so cool!” He grabbed Buffy and hugged her. Right before them stood a nearly naked Greg, clearly full of excitement.

“Greg, calm down,” said Paul. “Deep breaths, what happened?”

Greg sat down, bare-chested, clothed in just his swimsuit. He started to explain the whole call. Paul and Buffy never batted an eye at the near naked teen age boy who was so animated he was about to jump out of his skin. They had seen it before with their own son. Greg filled them in on all he knew, all he cold recall, which was about half of what got discussed. The key words were scholarship, swimming, USC and Gamecocks, It was by far the biggest program that had reached out, so far. To be sure, the five other interested programs were really great, but for crying out loud, this was USC!

“You need to call your parents,” Buffy said. “This is big news.” She was as proud of Greg as she was when her won son got his call from Dartmouth several years earlier. By the time it was all done, Greg was going to spend two days in Columbia the week after he got back home to Connecticut. He’d get to meet the coaches, swim in the university aquatics center, and meet some of the team. If all went well, they would like him to sign a letter of intent right there. The whole family was invited, especially his mom and dad. It would be the fourth on campus visit he had lined up between the end of Summer swim and the start of his senior year.