SwimTeamSpeedo
12-24-2014, 01:29 PM
The year was 1972. Mark Spitz was the reigning male swimmer of the time, having won seven golds. It was also a hard year on the farm. The crop was not good and the yield gave my family not enough money to get by. I was just a youngster then, when my parents explained to all of us children that it was going to be a very lean Christmas. Such was life on a farm; the years were either really great or really bad. I was on swim team. I told my mom the only thing I wanted was a swimsuit like Mark Spitz wore. I even cut out the Speedo ad from one of my swimming magazines and gave it to her. Size 24, I remember it like it was yesterday. The suit was a red, white and blue stripe. Yes, the one we have all seen. I wanted that swimsuit so bad. Zach, my very best friend in the world (still is) and I both wanted the same suit. “I can’t promise you this, Ryan,” my mom said every time I asked. I was probably too young to really understand the money part. Somehow we always got by. Christmas always came and it was awesome. The tree always seemed loaded with gifts. So like any good pre-teen, I pestered her about that suit every chance I got. She’d smile at me and say “I know, Ryan… just like Mark’s.”
Getting a swimsuit like that was no small task. This was way Northern Maine, USA. It wasn’t like mom could just stop by the local sporting goods store and buy one. The internet did not exist. We got our swimsuits through team orders, trips down to Bangor or Portland, or at big swim meets where vendors sold them. Getting this suit called for real effort, effort a kid like me did not fully appreciate.
It was Christmas morning. The farmhouse we lived in was a big old New Englander, the kind where the barn is attached to the house. It had six bedrooms, all of them small. One bathroom for all those bedrooms. Luckily, the kids only filled half of those rooms. The other rooms were used by the help my dad hired during harvest. It was wicked cold, the wind was blowing and snow was falling. Of course, up here it snowed all the time. My brother and I were the first to get up. He was older than me. I had on flannel pajamas, the house was crazy cold, the heat barely keeping up with the sub-zero temp outside. It was silent, the wind whistled as it blew through the drafty old windows. I rushed down to the tree, which was always loaded with gifts underneath.
Not this year. There were just enough boxes for each of us kids and then one more for my parents. “What happened?” I said to my brother.
“Bad year, happens,” he replied.
We exchanged the gifts, which were really just things we needed. All of us kids got clothes of some type, I got underwear and socks and a hand me down shirt. Despite how bad it was, we had fun opening the gifts. Instead of playing with new toys, we just got out the old ones. My dream swimsuit was not there. I did not let on my sadness.
“What would I say to Zach. He surely got his.” I thought to myself.
“We did the best we could,” my dad said. “It will be better next year.” I remember today the look on his face. He was a tough guy, a hard working guy. He always made sure we had what we needed. You could see the sadness in his face. Even at my young age, I knew.
My AAU team coach actually scheduled a practice on Christmas. It was from 11 to 12. He was that way. He was afraid we’d all eat way too many cookies and forget how to swim. We left the house at 10 to make the trek into town. I didn’t say a word about the swimsuit to my mom on the way. She drove slow and easy in the snow. We pulled into the pool and she parked the car. The other swimmers were arriving. Zach’s mom was parked next to us. “Zach’s already inside” she said. I grabbed my bag over the seat and started to open the door.
“Ryan, one more thing,” my mom said. She handed me a small box with the Speedo logo on it. “Thought you might like to wear this,” she said with a smile. I opened the box and inside was a size 24 Mark Spitz Speedo swimsuit.
“Oh wow!,” I said. “Thanks, mom. I love you!” I hugged her.
I looked back in my old journal I kept from those days. This is exactly what I wrote: “Best Christmas Ever!!! Zach and I got new Spitz swimsuits. They are so cool. Practice was a bummer.”
May you get the little surprise that makes your day. Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas.
STS
Getting a swimsuit like that was no small task. This was way Northern Maine, USA. It wasn’t like mom could just stop by the local sporting goods store and buy one. The internet did not exist. We got our swimsuits through team orders, trips down to Bangor or Portland, or at big swim meets where vendors sold them. Getting this suit called for real effort, effort a kid like me did not fully appreciate.
It was Christmas morning. The farmhouse we lived in was a big old New Englander, the kind where the barn is attached to the house. It had six bedrooms, all of them small. One bathroom for all those bedrooms. Luckily, the kids only filled half of those rooms. The other rooms were used by the help my dad hired during harvest. It was wicked cold, the wind was blowing and snow was falling. Of course, up here it snowed all the time. My brother and I were the first to get up. He was older than me. I had on flannel pajamas, the house was crazy cold, the heat barely keeping up with the sub-zero temp outside. It was silent, the wind whistled as it blew through the drafty old windows. I rushed down to the tree, which was always loaded with gifts underneath.
Not this year. There were just enough boxes for each of us kids and then one more for my parents. “What happened?” I said to my brother.
“Bad year, happens,” he replied.
We exchanged the gifts, which were really just things we needed. All of us kids got clothes of some type, I got underwear and socks and a hand me down shirt. Despite how bad it was, we had fun opening the gifts. Instead of playing with new toys, we just got out the old ones. My dream swimsuit was not there. I did not let on my sadness.
“What would I say to Zach. He surely got his.” I thought to myself.
“We did the best we could,” my dad said. “It will be better next year.” I remember today the look on his face. He was a tough guy, a hard working guy. He always made sure we had what we needed. You could see the sadness in his face. Even at my young age, I knew.
My AAU team coach actually scheduled a practice on Christmas. It was from 11 to 12. He was that way. He was afraid we’d all eat way too many cookies and forget how to swim. We left the house at 10 to make the trek into town. I didn’t say a word about the swimsuit to my mom on the way. She drove slow and easy in the snow. We pulled into the pool and she parked the car. The other swimmers were arriving. Zach’s mom was parked next to us. “Zach’s already inside” she said. I grabbed my bag over the seat and started to open the door.
“Ryan, one more thing,” my mom said. She handed me a small box with the Speedo logo on it. “Thought you might like to wear this,” she said with a smile. I opened the box and inside was a size 24 Mark Spitz Speedo swimsuit.
“Oh wow!,” I said. “Thanks, mom. I love you!” I hugged her.
I looked back in my old journal I kept from those days. This is exactly what I wrote: “Best Christmas Ever!!! Zach and I got new Spitz swimsuits. They are so cool. Practice was a bummer.”
May you get the little surprise that makes your day. Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas.
STS