My Journey in Writing, Ranting, and Woodworking

Sport is many things.  It is countless lessons that mold, shape, and carry its participants through life.  It is glory and heartbreak, effort and faith, and most of all, it is life.  We, the fan, take in the moment with unbridled optimism that our team will carry the day, and with it, lift our spirits to heights unattainable through any other means.

Sport, of any type, is good for the soul.  It is drama, acted out in the theaters we call stadiums, or courts, or in today’s example, pools.  There is a sound to swimming and diving meets that is unique to the Theater Aquatic.  The cheers careen off the walls with a hollow echo that seems to remain long after the meet is done.

A woman, in her early twenties, stands alone three meters above the water.  The board vibrates with each tiny adjustment as she positions her heels off the edge.  The waves of noise and chatter fade to a placid breath of anticipation.  She is a division I athlete.  She has trained all year and will soon represent her school, The University of Illinois, when she dives toward the tiled pool bottom.  Her muscles know the routine, her mind is ready to time each movement, and with a final moment of pure focus, she begins.  The board bends and springs into action, then bangs and vibrates back into ready position, as she twists and turns on gravity’s ride towards the water below.  It isn’t enough to complete the moves.  She must knife her way into the water in such a way as to not disturb its sensitivities.  Making waves and splashing about, that is for swimmers.  Diving is as much art as execution.

Motoko, Coach Waters, Darragh, Tessa, and Keri

The lineup for this meet brought to mind the phrase “Murders’ Row”, as six of the teams are nationally ranked in the top 25.  Illinois is not among those ranked teams.  What they are, however, is a wonderful bunch of young women, who  through dedication and hard work, have earned the right to compete at the college level.

I asked the coach, Chris Waters, what he thought about his team’s performance, today.  “Somewhere between almost stellar and mediocre.”  I chuckled, as it was a great answer.  His divers seemed to like it, too.  The women of Champaign were not, with one exception, prepared for giving their own assessments of each other’s results.

Tessa Adams, a junior in communications, did however tell me a great story about her pet rabbit growing up.  His name was Bugs.  Sadly, I had to use the past tense in describing him, but his memory is still alive and well, in her heart.  Mrs. Adams, who sat next to her daughter, shared with me that he was one of three bunnies they had in the family.  Bugs and (I missed the name of rabbit #2) were already residing at casa del Adams, when their dog, Boaz, brought home a baby rabbit in his giant mouth, and asked if he could keep him.  Boaz wasn’t aware that the baby really needed to be with its mother and was obviously overcome by the cuteness of the little fuzzy wonder. It happens to the best of us. Mrs. Adams named him Maybe, because, most rabbits won’t survive random acts of canine adoption.  Still, she bottle fed the little bunny with the hope that she could release him back into the wilds of Kalamazoo, Michigan.  The bunny survived, obviously, because there isn’t any way I’m going to write a “Dead Bunny” story.  Duh!

I was not able to pry any self analysis from Tessa, about her performance, but her roommate, Darragh McDermott (granddaughter of Pat O’Brien), summed it up by saying her performance was, “Somewhere between almost stellar and mediocre.”  Though this did little to paint a picture of Tessa’s dives, it did demonstrate that Darragh listens to her coach.  This is a great quality.

Their third roommate, whom I nicknamed “corner diver” (she was sitting in the same corner booth that President Ronald Regan dined from.  I’ve never been good at nicknaming people and I doubt it will catch on among her friends), Keri Eberhardt, who, earlier this month, set a personal best at the Two-Day Minnesota Challenge, with a score of 278.4 in the one-meter dive, was also reluctant to give a quote.  I don’t have any formal training in journalism, and as such, am not sure if one is allowed to badger an athlete into giving a quote, but I did, and she reluctantly said, “I’m excited about the three-meter, because I’m going to do well.”  Which was a much better quote than the shrug and smile I think she would have preferred to give.  The Illinois divers are modest.

There was one diver left, a senior, Britini Fisher, and so I asked her about the meet.  A communications major, she said, “I thought it was successful, mentally.”  HA!  Now that is a quote.  The team trainer, Motoko, rated the team’s performance a 30 on the 1 to 37 “Meeks” scale. I then asked a follow-up question, just like the big kid journalists, “How did you like your lunch?”  Motoko quickly answered, “Thirty seven”.

Britini gave the lunch a “Thirty eight”.  I usually don’t allow people to exceed the boundaries of the “Meeks” scale, but she has recently gotten engaged, and as such, might be prone to excessive bouts of happiness.  Tessa, Darragh, and Keri all scored the lunch a thirty seven, as well.  Darragh actually gave it a “Totally thirty seven”, which seems like it might be slightly better than just a regular thirty seven, but I can’t be sure.

I am unable to remember a more delightful lunch.  It was, I suppose, a glimpse at the dream I’ve been crafting over the last year.  I wish to travel and write, to explore and meet people, and to tell their stories.  If I could carry a tune, and lived in a different age, I might aspire to be a bard.  People are interesting.

The ladies of the Illini diving team invited me to come watch them, tomorrow, but sadly I had to decline.  I have to work in the morning and then go to a book signing in the afternoon. It would have been fun.  Maybe, if I can find a schedule, I may go cheer them on next year, when they visit Iowa City for their regular season meet.

Or maybe, I will be unavailable?  Perhaps, by 2013, I’ll be wandering the country, eating BLT’s at tiny dinners, watching lacrosse, or softball, or go-cart racing, and meeting people who have decided the sacrifice is worth it.  I may be telling the stories of those who know that there is glory in trying, not just winning.  I may be trying to put into words, that which is indescribable…the feelings, the sounds, the hope and dreams, of the competitor.