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The Last Meet

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ICKY ALA BICKY WICKY!
The cheer echoes through the pool.
The uneasy banter between the teams can be heard.
The sharp smell of chlorine fills the air.
Eleven o’clock. The warm-ups begin.
The teams line up. They jump.

SPLASH
One hour. One long, stressful hour.
Finally. The sigh can be heard through the teams.
Warm-ups are over. And so begins what we came here for.
The first race. The relay.
The momentum deciding relay.
The winner gets an early lead. Everone knows this.
The teams get behind their lanes.
These relay teams are the best of the best. True swimmers.
The whistle blows. The crowd dies.
Muscles tense. There is but one sound to hear.
The sound of the starter. This simple speaker that makes such an impact.

BEEP
And so the day has commenced.
Each event every head turns to the scoreboard.
Who’s ahead? Who’s winning?
We’re up by twenty points. We’re down by ten.
A roller coaster of places. First. Third. When will it end?
So this is how the day unfolds.
Every race, same tension. It never ends.
Can anyone still question the excitement of swimming?





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