Act Like A Champion

It was pretty amazing to see.

Seven U.S. Olympic swimmers in one pool. A pool in Bakersfield. Spending the afternoon talking with more than 100 fellow tankers (slang for swimmers) who had visions of standing atop a podium sometime in the future.

Forget the podium, just wearing the red, white and blue speedo and racing for the U.S.A.

The world class caravan arrived with '96 triple Gold medalist Josh Davis leading the way.

The lineup was extremely impressive with Jason Lezak, Aaron Peirsol, Gabe Woodward, Elaine Breeden, Dana Vollmer and Tara Kirk.

I talked with Jason Lezak a few months ago when he visited my son's swim school to sign a few autographs and take pictures. He was polite, patient and professional in dealing with all the kids that descended on him.

Sunday afternoon, that same character was evident with the rest of Team USA that spent a few hours talking and demonstrating technique with the clinic participants.

And I tried my best to reflect that same attitude.

My day started around 7am at a swim meet downtown. It transitioned into the clinic around 12:30 and continued until 5pm. I was hot, a little burnt and tired by the time it was over.

My son attempted to get autographs before the event started but got into line too late, and missed out in the pre-signing session. It was partly due to the fact that many people crashed the line ahead of us in their exuberance.

So be it. It happens.

Now, it's 10 hours into my day on the pool deck, I want to go home and I get into line as it starts to form after the session. The Olympians are moving back to their chairs. My son digs out his t-shirt and poster. We're 8 people back in a line that stretched to more than 50.

Then, the wayward mother pushes her teenage son into the line next to the people in front of us.

It's just 1 person, but it was the principle that started to irk me. I looked at the woman who was doing her best to avoid eye contact with me. She whispered to her son, looked toward the gold medalists, looked at her watch, etc, etc, etc.

Finally, she glanced at me, obviously feeling the stare that was digging into the side of her face.

She sheepishly asked me "is this the line for the signatures?!" I said, "Yes, and it ends back there."

I was very polite, almost too much so. I had a flashback to the movie "A Christmas Story" when Ralphie and his brother were trying to see Santa Claus, and they unknowingly cut into line.

But this woman simply smiled, ignored me, and continued to stand there.

The man behind me wasn't as kind. He nudged me, beginning to fume at this woman's obvious disregard for line etiquette.

I asked him what he wanted me to do. This woman and her teen didn't care. Maybe she had the same kind of day I did up to that point (although she lacked the sunburn I had attained).

He let out a heavy *sigh* that the line cutter heard. She turned and looked at me. I smiled and motioned to the man behind me. She gave him "the look" and turned back around.

At that point I glanced down at my son who was completely oblivious to everything going on, as he inched closer to getting the autographs that he so desperately wanted.

We moved through the line chatting and meeting each Olympic swimmer one-by-one. My son was having a ball. Every now and then, I'd glance back to see the other man still fuming as he glared at the line crasher.

We finished up with Tara Kirk, moved away from the table and took a long look at the T-Shirt and poster that would soon adorn my son's wall.

The cutter walked by giddy saying, "you're not gonna want to wash that t-shirt now, Dad!!"

I just smiled, knowing I acted like a champion in this situation.

I then moved away, so the other guy could have his say!!!