Olympic Dreams

[Byron]

In chapter one Greg leaped out of the pool to watch Greg - but a minor slip doesn't spoil the good story.

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Not sure Byron what the point of your post was.... just the usual Byron pile on, I guess. Let me see, if you scan the whole story, you can point out every typo in it... and they do exist(I suspect I meant Greg leaped out to watch Jimmy). Swimmboy caught a clear error and I appreciate him pointing it out. You are being your usual pedantic self.

STS

[Dooley67]

STS,

I've seen similar types of things in some of your other stories, mostly about names, but never felt the need to point them out. What's in a name anyway?

D67

[shaulis]

STS,

You can put the order of the race anyway you want to because its your story. I knew you were on a team but I figured you were taking a writer's license to the relay order.


Shaulis

[a speedo minded guy]

STS, please just keep writing great stories

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Writer note: I had inadvertently used the IM order in the team event. My error. Here is the corrected version...

Jimmy was all fired up as the team event kicked off. Greg’s team was in lane three. The guys all looked amazing in Jimmy’s mind. Each of the guys was tall, over six feet, except for Juan, who the team called JP. JP was of Mexican descent, his tan complexion a clear contrast to the pale white of the other three. He was handsome, 5’10”, had a long abdomen and his arms seemed to have as much length as the taller guys. JP was the breast stroke leg, it was obvious why. Greg would swim the fly. John, a blonde, curly haired guy would take the back, and Craig was the wrap up with the free. Craig was the tallest, and he also seemed to have a really long torso and short legs. In Jimmy’s mind, Craig was the same build as Michael Phelps.

“Greg’s team is clearly the best,” Jimmy said to Greg’s two dads, real and host.

“Let’s hope so,” Greg’s real dad replied. He was flattered by Jimmy’s loyalty to his son, almost brother like, he thought.

“No hope to it,” Jimmy replied, “They will kick butt!” Jimmy sat n silence for a moment, then he apologized for saying butt. Greg’s mom was touched by the young teen’s politeness.

“Butt was a good choice,” Greg’s dad replied. “I had another word.” The guys all laughed.

“Swimmer’s mark,” the announcer called. John was in the water, and mounted the starting block, grasping the hold bar and positioning himself for the back launch. The team’s tension was high. Greg did his little ritual of rubbing his crotch, a sub-conscious act that he did not even realize he did when he got anxious at swim meets.

“Swimmers set,” came call two,. John readied his position. John was a a solid back swimmer, it would be a rave between him and the team from Springfield, MA. John was taller, had longer arms, but like Greg, he lost time on his turns.

The fake gun went off and the swimmers were in the air, their arching backs just over the top of the water as they launched off the wall. John‘s start looked perfect. . Everyone was screaming. Suddenly a horn blew. Jimmy was shocked as all the swimmers stopped and stood.

“What happened?” Jimmy asked.

“False start. I think in lane six. Looked like he went just ahead of the horn.” answered Greg's dad.

The eight swimmers walked back to the wall. A couple jumped out of the water. Greg shook his head, angry that his teammate missed out on what was a picture perfect launch. John stood at the wall, the frustration clear on his face. Monique watched as the guys all huddled around their blocks, their tight swimsuits clinging to their bodies. A few of them still wet from the warm up swims, including Greg’s. She admired the way Greg’s swimsuit clung to his anatomy. He had the most manly looking package in her opinion.

The swimmers mounted the blocks to start the race, again. The line up of wet swim suited guys was quite the show. It was a rainbow of colors and patterns, as the swimmers held to the hold bar and lifted themselves into position. Monique liked best the red and gold print swimsuits on the team in lane two, right next to Greg’s team. She liked least the solid black suits on the team in lane eight, no imagination, she thought. Lane seven was a team mixed between briefs and jammers. Monique really disliked jammers. She thought jammers looked like bike shorts, which she liked on cyclists, but not on swimmers. In jammers, a guys parts always got stuck down by their legs, which just looked ugly, Monique thought.

“Okay, let‘s get this done,” Greg thought again as he stood on the deck. “Stay hard to the wall,” the mantra running in his head. Greg was ready for his leg now, but he had to wait for two legs ahead. “You can do this” he told his teammate.

“Let’s do this,” JP yelled out in his Spanish accented speech. The tension and the enthusiasm running high on all the teams as they waited for the calls. The delay was the time required to reset all the clocks, touch pads and hand helds.

“False starts suck,” Greg finally said to his teammates. They did. They tugged away at the swimmer’s concentration, stirred up anger, and had the risk of messing a swimmer up.

“Stay focused,” Craig replied. He was a fiery red headed, lean guy. He looked amazing in the tiny swimsuit. He had the most well defined abs. Monique through he was almost as cute as Greg.

Finally, the calls. Jimmy was up out of his seat. Jimmy was almost as tense as the swimmers. “Go Sharks” Jimmy called, joined by Monique, as the gun went off, referring to the team’s name. John was off the block with a solid launch, even better than before. He arched back as best as he could, hitting the water just ahead of the swimmer in lane five, arguable the best team in the event. It was a clean start, no horn. John nailed it! JP was jumping and yelling. Craig applauded, and high fived Greg. The noise in the arena was deafening, as the teams and the crowd yelled. Jimmy was taking it all in. Like the team, he was cheering loudly for John. Greg was jumping in excitement. He turned to look at Jimmy and pumped his fists.

The race was on….

[Swimmboy]

I'm sorry for stirring up any trouble with my comment about medley order. I am really enjoying this story, and I like the realism of the descriptions, the emotions, the brotherhood and bonding we see in each chapter. As a swimmer, it just jumped out at me that Greg was swimming fly, so he shouldn't be first in the relay. Now, on to the race! Can't wait to see what happens! And thanks, STS, for writing this wonderful story for us to enjoy.

[shaulis]

Swimmboy, I'm sure if you had not said something someone else would have and probably not as nice.

[Dooley67]

Swimmboy, I agree with Shaulis, no need to apologize; it was not your comment that stirred things up as you can tell from the reply you got from STS.

D67

[SwimTeamSpeedo]

Monique found the team events fun to watch. The male bonding was interesting, much more physical than what females were like. Lots of action between the guys, hugs, pushes, shoves and high fives. She also like watching the once dry swimmers emerge from the pool as hot, sexy wet swimmers in clinging swimsuits. It seemed funny to her how the guys all had similar rituals, like taking the strings out of their suits after they were done with their event. She thought a guy with his drawstrings hanging free looked cute, sensual and approachable. It was a strangely sexy and inviting look. Especially when Greg did it. She just wanted to take those stings and tease him with them. But, Greg’s string were still in tact, his tension still high. His leg had yet to start.

John gave the team a great start. He swam his leg fast enough to put the team in second place, just slightly behind the Springfield swimmers. It was actually better than the coach expected. JP swam a fast first length of breast stroke, closing the gap. JP was clearly the strongest breast stroke swimmer in the pool on this day, but at this level the range of ability between the top three was slight. Greg mounted the starting block as JP headed down the pool on his last 50.

“Reach,” Greg heard his coach’s voice in his head. “Swim hard to the wall,” also rang in his mind. Greg’s eyes intently watched the water and the wall. In a team event the transition can be deadly. Launch too early and the team is out, false starts can end the best of swims. Launch to late and the team loses valuable time. The team spends quite a bit of time just practicing the transition. Teams that don’t lose races.

JP hit his last turn in a dead heat. He pushed hard off the wall. In his left peripheral vision he could see the swimmer next to him in lock step. Both had been swimming hard, both were tired. Both had to swim the fastest 25 they could. The sound of the cheers in the pool arena were as intense as a final four basketball game. Jimmy was not only out of his seat, he was bent over yelling as loud as he could. If JP could pull this off, Jimmy had no question Greg would beat every swimmer there. Even Monique had stopped admiring the guys and joined in the screaming.

By the midpoint of the pool, JP was just a hair ahead. His powerful strokes lifting his upper body from the water. The intensity of the race reflected in his facial expression. A surge… the swimmer lane left suddenly put on the gas, using whatever he had left. JP was late catching it, suddenly roles reversed. The edge was to the other guy. “Damn,” said John silently as he saw it happen. Greg heard nothing, his mind in a trance waiting for his start. Now more than ever he needed to nail his launch and turns.

A push to the wall. JP’s late response to the surge ended hopes of a lead finish, but maybe they could tie. They were just feet from the wall. “Push” the team yelled. JP kept the press on, as did swimmer left. Greg readied.

JP hit the wall and Greg launched. Greg reached as far forward as he could. The swimmer right was in the air at exactly the same time, and Greg could see him. It was an absolute picture perfect launch. Greg hit the water slightly ahead, his great launch wiping away any gap from the last leg. Greg went right into his powerful fly, missing nothing in the transition from launch to swim. Within seconds Greg was out in front, the fly swimmer to his right (down the pool, left back) was no comparison. The real competition was in lane seven, but that team was far down the order.

Greg hit the wall, flipped and was solidly back at it. Greg’s turn was good, but not great. His coach shook his head as he watched Greg slow at the wall. More work to do. As Greg swam hard on the second 25, a motion caught his eye. While he was worried about the swimmer on his left, he had not focused on the swimmer to his right, who was suddenly within his limited eyesight and moving fast. Greg could see his arms rotating the fly stroke. Greg throttled hard to pull forward, but the momentum of the fast paced swimmer was strong.

“S…,’ Greg thought. “He’s kicking me,” Greg felt the pains of hi inattention grip him. :How did I miss that,” he thought. The very same thought ran though his coach. The two swimmers now neck and neck.

“Show him your Wake,” Jimmy yelled. He was still out of his seat, but now yelling as loud as he could. He had no idea if it helped, but he sure hoped it did.

Greg pushed harder, and he held the lead, but only slightly. He needed a good turn, no slow down, no loss of time. He swam as hard and as fast as he could to the wall. He almost messed up his timing, nearly flipping too late. That would have been disaster. As fast as he came to the wall, Greg was over and back out. It was the slight break he needed, as the swimmer now on his left lost time, lots of it.

Last flip, Greg maintained the quality of his prior flip-turn. Greg has a knack for being able to perform well under pressure. The swimmer now on his right still had some gas left. He throttled, his tight print swimsuit flexing in the water as he pushed hard to catch Greg. He was half a body back, his eyes in line with Greg’s own tight and tiny team suit. Greg heard his strokes, but could not see him. Three quarters of a length to go. JP was screaming loudly. Craig was on the blocks, listening intently as his teammates told him where Greg was and what was going on. He dare not look and break his concentration. From behind, he looked amazing and cute in his swimsuit. Monique enjoyed the view.

It was a very close race as Greg came to the wall, but Greg had edged out the win Greg swam hard into the wall and heard Craig launch over him. Greg’s hand slammed the touchpad timer hard. He stood immediately, seeing the swimmer next to him finish. Craig was already well down the length of the pool. A solid lead. No other team was close.

Greg waited for the guy next to him to stand. He extended his hand. “Great swim” Greg said.

“Thanks, you kicked my a..,” the swimmer replied. “Name is Matthew,” he offered. The swimmers cleared the pool, leaping on deck. Both had spent all they had.

“Greg,” came the reply. The two guys gave each other a swimmers hug, the kind that looked a bit gay to the non-swimmers, two guys in skimpy suits embracing. It was the camaraderie of the sport, swimmer emotions high from a tough race. “Catch you around, Matthew,” Greg said as he turned to high five his team. They knew this one was locked up. He then looked over at Monique and blew her a kiss, he gave Jimmy a fist pump. Greg was physically drained, but he had enough adrenalin excitement to keep him going. Craig got a hero’s welcome.

Jimmy stood and applauded. His eyes filled with admiration. Greg really was the best swimmer ever.

---------

The day was done, and the team was now tied for first. It had been a great day for Greg. His swim in the team medley had caught the eye of coaches from Boston University and from South Carolina. He did not know that, yet, but he soon would. Alone in the locker room, he untied his swimsuit and slid it off. Greg was happy to get out of the tight and tiny swimsuit, his anatomy feeling the relief of being set free. He stood in the hot shower for a long time, just enjoying the feel of the water massaging his body.

Greg came out of the locker room in a clean and dry T-shirt and dry team nylon shorts, the same ones he wore earlier. This time, however, he chose not to go commando. His hair was wet, the shortness of it created a slightly spiked look. He looked tired, but he had a huge smile on his face, his eyes bright with pride. He knew it had been a great day. A few mess ups, but still a great day. He kicked butt, swimmers ate his wake.

His mom was first with a huge hug, followed down the line, the best hug saved for Monique. He picked Monique up and spun her in his arms. Despite his fatigue, he was still pumped up from the day, at least enough to want to hold the prettiest girl he knew. He gave Jimmy a guy hug, three pats on each other’s backs.

“Awesome day, Greg,” Jimmy said. “Wicked cool!”

“Thanks kid, big stuff tomorrow.” Greg replied. They paused and looked at each other. “Did you get to swim today?” Greg asked.

“No, but that’s okay.” Jimmy replied. “This was just as good.”

“You want to swim? I can’t join you, but I can watch for a bit, if you want.” Greg offered. “The pool is open to teams for the next hour, but you can see no one is going to use it.” Greg added.