It began, oddly, a day after my last post--January 29th, 2011. This was our senior night and the last home meet of the season. For a little added pressure, it was against F&M--big rivals and a school we hadn't beaten in about a decade. This is a story of battle between enemies, truly epic, and for once we had a packed house to watch it. It began well for Dickinson, as we jumped to an early lead in the medley relay. About half way through the meet the 400IM comes up. This is a crucial event that F&M had an advantage in. But it was the event that changed the pace of the meet. Our top IMer came from behind on the last lap to touch out the F&M swimmer by less than two tenths of a second, putting us just slightly ahead of the other team. Throughout the rest of the meet we battled back and forth gaining and losing the lead at nearly every other event. Then comes the final break; two events left--the 100 breaststroke and the 200 free relay. We are down 7 points and need big victories to take the win. We take the 100 breaststroke in great form taking first and second. One more event, score tied at 94, and we haven't lost this event all year. Charged and ready to race, we step up to the blocks with the crowd screaming deafening cheers. Then, all at once, silence--Take your mark, the buzzer sounds and the decibels rise to a whole new level--never before have I heard it this loud. Our lead off swimmer gives us a small lead, our second swimmer keeps pace, our third swimmer extends the lead to .2 seconds. Now, I'm on the block and as I dive into the water I notice what I thought impossible. Mid-air I hear the crowd noise rise again, even louder--and I know I cannot lose; there is no way this man next to me will beat me. At the turn, I see him right next to me, gaining ground. 12 yards to go and he's got a slight edge; 5 yards it's to0 close to call. I have one last stroke to make a difference, to edge out the win. I shoot my hand to the wall, pick my head up out of the water--and there is endless silence. The times post 1:28.94 and 1:28.97. We did it, .03 ahead of F&M we made history beating our overmatched rivals, bringing victory on our last home meet ever. Shouts of joy, screams of elation--the team coming together in a mass of hysteria, nothing can be greater than this.
Except a week later, when our meet would rival the excitement of that day. Our last dual meet of the season. The last dual meet of my career, and once again I've been called to finish the meet and be the anchor of the 400 free relay. With incredible wins already on the day including a .01 win in the 200 butterfly, it had been a battle to say the least. Swarthmore College, a hated competitor and serious challenger (never before had we even come close to beating them while I've been here) was primed for the win, expecting it at the last event. We were leading the meet by a mere 6 points. Whoever won this event would leave the meet the victor. Heading in to the event, we knew we would need a lead entering in to my leg; they left their fastest for the end, we put ours in the front. By the time our third man touched the wall we had just under a second lead on Swarthmore. The 1oo freestyle is not my greatest event. Just a short 30 minutes before this race I posted a 50.8, not a great time. I knew I needed to break 50 to take the win. Swimming two laps of this event is easy, adrenaline carries you through most of it. Then you hit the third lap, and you are gasping for air, kicking with fatigued legs, and arms that are cramping and burning. At the third turn, I see him right next to me. Panic fills my whole body. He had made up the entire lead on the last three laps, and he's still got another whole lap to get ahead and win it. A new wave of adrenaline hits my body, I cannot let him win this, my last dual meet ever. Breathing furiously and often, I see the splash of his strokes, as I too am thrashing my arms using every ounce of energy and somehow finding more in me. Digging deeper than I ever have before, making up lost time in the last 5 yards I'm not sure if it's enough until I touch the wall. This time I know we've done it again. I look at the time--.03 ahead. I needed to post a time in the 100 a second and a half faster than I had swam it earlier in that very same meet to win it. The impossible was nothing, we were champions over the only two teams our senior class had never beaten, and all in the same week. We had touched out our collegiate rivals and ended the season victors and champions. It was a season of heroic swims and brotherly support. I owe this greatest week of my swimming career to my teammates for all of their support and work. What a way to go out.
