Water Polo Monologue

I was used to hearing that on a daily basis. The lovely nickname was usually followed by an order for a clean towel or a bottle of water. Well, at least those were the order in front of the coach or another adult. Otherwise, the team would take advantage of the fact that i was just their useless and obedient water boy.

My parents tell me that I took to swimming like... a fish takes to water. It is a safe place where I can float free of worries. Driven by passion and dedication, I decided to begin swimming competitively. Competitive swimming requires an intense level of determination and discipline. Forcing myself to get out of my warm bed at 5:30 in the morning to put on a still-slightly-damp swimsuit and stand in 40-degree weather waiting for practice to start. Putting up with limited lane space and irritating swimmers who think they are faster. Making a conscious effort to work on my stroke form, turns, touches, and techniques. The water becomes a whirlpool of injuries, losses, wins, friendships, enemies, and sickness. The water becomes home.

As I jumped into the water, I only had one thing on my mind: saving the victim. As I swam towards her I saw her head slip under. I called for a backboard before I dove beneath the surface to bring her head above the water. I

Imagine taking one step into a chlorine-filled arena. The humid air rushes onto your skin. An immense smile spreads across your face. This is because you know everything is about to change. In less than 24 hours you will be holding a glistening gold medal in your hand, standing up on the podium while the Star Spangled Banner blares for the whole world to hear and tears will stream down your face. Taking one look back at your coach, Teri McKeever, you realize if it wasn’t for her you would not be here. Graciously, you run up, swing your arms around her body, and embrace her in a powerful hug that says it all. Swimming is a very intense sport and consumes every second of a swimmer’s free time. However, putting in hundreds

If you really knew me, you would know that I love, love, love to swim. They say you can’t live without water. It fills my soul with passion and my veins with fire. It is my escape, my safe haven, my home. I don’t swim because I want to achieve Olympic glory. I don’t swim because I want to be famous. I swim because it’s the only thing in my life that makes sense. Because I know that if everything else goes wrong, the water will always stay the same. I can always find my way home.

The frosty morning breeze snaps at your ears and nose as you step away from the warm aroma of the bus, so you rush inside to the sports center. As you scurry in, you are stopped abruptly, meeting a large crowd of strangers gathered in the main entrance. There is barely room to squeeze past anyone, as every swimmer in New York who qualified for States, was in this one building. You finally find your way to the pool. After walking past several team banners, you finally see the banner labelled “Auburn Stingrays” and you spot your mom and dad off to the side, setting up a blanket for you to sit on. You toss your bag down and hug your parents for a final good luck before the meet. After you part from the hug, your hair is tousled by you dad, and they turn to go find a good seat before it gets filled up. “Ten minutes until warm up!” shouts the head coach of the team. You realize that you haven’t even had time to put on your swimsuit yet. You zip open your bag and grab your sleek swimsuit with a blue swizzle to resemble a stingray tail and run to the locker room to get

During this positivity mission, one of the most memorable moments occurred at the Niagara LSC Championships. A few newer faces joined us this year, which was a perfect opportunity to get to know some of the swimmers in other levels. Following one of the new swimmer’s races, I turned to him on the bench and complimented his excellent race. I will never forget the smile looking back at me when he asked in disbelief, “You know my name and you watched me?”. My answer was simple, “Of course, you are my teammate”.

Competing in high school athletics was the highlight of my time at Sterling High School, If I could I’d go back and do it all over agin. It allowed me to learn basic life skills, such as time management, self-accountability, leadership, and teamwork. But the most important thing it brought me was a strong support system built up of teammates, coaches, competitors, and officials. My sophomore English teacher once joked that “the girl’s swim team is like a cult” which is pretty close to the truth. From early August to late November twenty girls, a diver or two, and a pair of coaches were inseparable. Together we suffered together through every practice and worked to improve not only ourselves but each other. It was these long hours that shaped

Now on my back, I began to swim a stroke the complete opposite of the more commonly known freestyle. My arms started to swing like they had lost all attachment to my body, but my legs seemed to refuse to kick. I kicked and splashed the water as hard as I could, but my arms seemed to be doing the only work. My arms were already tired enough from swimming butterfly, I didn’t know how long I could actually keep this up.

step out the car my legs tightens ready to sprint straight towards the ocean as if it was the finish line in

I can feel a knot in my stomach, my heart is racing. I can hear giggles from outside the bathroom stall. I feel beyond nervous about walking out in a skintight black Speedo swim suit. I think to myself its not too late to leave. Finally I conquer all the courage I have and walk out the bathroom stall, as I walk out I see where all the giggles came from. I see some familiar faces and some new ones, I feel like all eyes are on me. Every one inside the locker room had on the same type of unflattering swimsuit as me, but yet I couldn’t stop feeling uncomfortable and out of place. I never really wanted to join the swim team I felt stupid and insecure, but my mother thought it would be a good idea. I had played volleyball and

Today was the first meet of Xavier Thomas senior year. And he is the best swimmer on the team. But Xavier isn't the only senior with many scholarships. He has a best friend who will help him. Her name is Chloe. She has been Xavier’s girlfriend for three years, and she is the fastest girl on the team. Today, Xavier and Chloe’s team, Cosby Titans, are facing off against the Clover Hill Cavaliers. The nerves get to them, as they walk onto the pool deck, the cheers from the crowd fill the air as the team steps onto the blocks for warm ups. Chloe and Xavier lead their separate lanes into the cold and shivering water. Both of them were looking sharp as they finish their warm up. As their soaked bodies hop out of the water Chloe and Xavier looked competitive and ready to race.

There once was a girl named Lexi. She was very pretty, extremely popular and rich. She seemed well know but no one really liked her except for her boyfriend Ralph. Lexi and Ralph have been for about three months now, and Ralph really likes Lexi. What Ralph doesn’t know is that Lexi is a Cheater, that’s the reason no one likes her.

The crash of the waves hitting the sand, the crisp scent of salt in the air, the soft grainy texture under the toes, the vast blue water stretching out in front looking endless, as I step into it ever so carefully. I descend into the refreshing water, with just a snorkel sticking above the brink. I am surrounded by neon colors of corals, fish and many other sea creatures. Encompassed by the sea life, I felt like they accepted me as one of their own as they whirled around me. The strategic way of swimming is new but life changing. Swimming amongst many other living species was difficult because you really couldn’t use your legs; if you did you could possibly disturb the life around you. Swimming without using your legs is quite difficult because you are then force to use just your arms to project yourself forward.

The next part of the training turned out to be the toughest. We were required to dive ten feet to the bottom of the pool and retrieve a ten pound weight. Once the weight was brought to the surface we were supposed to tread water for two minutes while keeping the weight above the water line. This appeared to be simple so I dived in, expecting an easy time. I had no trouble getting the weight to the surface and proceeded to tread water with a feeling of undoubtable success. But once again my anti-floating physical quality began to take effect. At one minute and thirty seconds I began to sink and within the next fifteen seconds my head was submerged and I was fighting for air. The water from the pool began flowing into my mouth with each desperate grasp for air; it felt as if an ocean were draining into my body. I remember hearing from under the water the instructor's muffled voice counting down the last ten seconds of the exercise. When it was all over I slowly made my way back to the pool's edge where I was informed by the two young girls that they had no difficulty