The Secret Goldfish

Walking through the tunnel, Dr. Dre headphones blaring, lo and behold a star was appearing. Out of the tunnel 3rd from the front, out walked Adam McCoy, with his head down. Adam, 6’6” in figure with the perfect triangle torso, there he stood in front of lane 4. Adam was from Monroe High School, a powerhouse in all sports but mainly in swimming. Not a yard away from him was his rival and teammate Danny Fisher who was in lane 5. Danny was from Monroe, Wisconsin, north of Madison. Monroe High School had the lead by 24 points in State Opens. They were on track for their third state championship in five years. Monroe holds the state record in 5 of the 11 swimming events.
“In lane 8, from Monroe High School, Carter Johnson,” I hear some people saying my name but nothing like when they called Adam and Danny. “In lane 4, the current State Record holder, from Monroe High School, Adam McCoy,” the announcer says. The crowd goes insane, of the 5 state records that Monroe has taken, Adam McCoy has two; one in the 200 free, and the other in the 100 free, here to defend his title. “In lane 5, from Monroe High School, Danny Fisher,” the other side of the building erupts. We are all swimming in the 100 free at State Opens.
I stand in front of lane 8, my lane, waiting on the block for the race to begin. The starting gun goes off “BANG!” I pull and I kick with all my might for 4 lengths of the pool. At the end of an impressive 45.32 second swim, however it was clear I had won nothing: not a prize, not a ribbon, not a medal, not a trophy, and not even my coach’s praise. I came in 7th. Adam McCoy earned his title, and Danny Fisher close behind him but, swearing under his breath, had reached second place.
All three of us walk to our coach with huge smiles on our faces, congratulating each other and giving each other high fives. He was leisurely sitting with his feet up on the next seat in front of him staring us down. As we approached our excitement seemed to fade away and our smiles evened out on our faces. He lifts his hands to signal for us to halt where we are and motions with his thick finger for Adam to walk up to him. Coach Johnson whispers in Adam’s ear and the next thing we see is Adam smiling. Knowing Coach Johnson, I think he was pleased; not well-pleased but pleased. Next up was Danny; he slowly walks up to Coach J and once again whispers something. Danny straightens up and walks away; a painful sight. Knowing my dad, Danny was probably told to do better and ripped apart every foot of his race from the start to the finish in less than 10 seconds. Danny with an emotionless face walked away from my dad without a single word of congratulations. Yeah, that’s my dad. I’m next and I walk up to him not expecting any praise, but expecting something. I was wrong, my dad, also my coach, waves me off like a piece of dirt.
I know he is tough but come on, giving your son the cold shoulder, now that’s harsh!
Later that night during dinner my dad looks up at me and says, “That race of yours could have been better.”
“I know.”
“Your start was late,” he starts, “your breakout wasn’t even fast, you took a breath into the wall, your flip turn was slow, your hand speed has to get faster. Carter, for you to win at Nationals, you have to do some major adjustments on your stroke.”
“Gotcha,” I say as I am close to tears. It’s hard to hear your dad say that you suck with no emotion.
I walk up to my room and write in my daily journal, across the first three lines I wrote, “I AM GOING TO PROVE YOU WRONG!!!” It burns in me that I can’t get better and make my dad proud. It has been years since he told me I did something good. I can’t really say anything to him or argue with him because I know it’s a waste of energy, and I need my energy for something more useful. I’m not really an outgoing person and whatever happens, happens. I like to keep to myself because its easy and I don’t have to do work and no one else has to care.
YMCA Nationals was in about two week and I knew it was crunch time. I’m seeded 22nd so that puts me into the 3rd fasted heat at Nationals. I walk into practice with all the other swimmers getting ready to get our asses kicked. My dad starts practice with a speech that was directed towards the people who didn’t make State Opens and all the rest of us that sucked, me included. I sort of zoned out but I think by his expressions and knowing every other speech he has preached it had to be something like, “You get out what you put in.”

It’s a week before Nationals and our team captains, Joe and Mike, and my dad are making a list of who on the team gets the awards. For the past thirty years, one of our school’s tradition, is to have the all around best swimmer be the Golden Fish aka goldfish. My sophomore year, Adam McCoy was awarded the prize. I remember the time when Adam was awarded the prize, my dad was never happier. He was probably happy to know that he had such a great swimmer on his team. To be honest I was too. The next year, my junior year, Danny Fisher was given that prize by beating Adam’s 200 free record. Unfortunately, for Danny at the next meet, Adam reclaimed his record, making Danny’s celebration a very brief one.
I felt it inside that it was my duty to earn this exact prize. But for me it was just more than a trophy, it was more than a reputation; it was about making my father proud.
My chance would come at Nationals when Danny and I were in the same second heat. There were swimmers who scratched out of it because they got sick or something so I got moved up to a faster heat.
There we are, Adam in lane 3, Danny in lane 6, and me in lane 8, all of us ready to swim our hearts out. It doesn’t get anymore tense then this.
The starting gun goes off and we start swimming. The entire race was a blur. It went by so quickly. The time board contained all that happened in the short race.
The result was unreal. On the time board in lane 8, the last qualifier, I was the number one and the time was 43.56. I looked up the list and saw Adam’s name with a four and the number of 43.78. and Danny’s name with a number six and a time of 43.98. When I got out of the pool I felt a sigh of relief, I finally beat Adam and Danny. In reality, it seemed as if it would have never happened but it did. The moment felt like a dream. I walked towards my dad with my head down not expecting praise but expecting something. I overhear him talking to the coach next to him saying, “That’s my son.” I look up at him and see the biggest smile across his face.
Although there were faster people in the fastest heat after mine, I still felt as if I had won in life and especially the relationship between my father and coach, and me. I finally proved him wrong.
As much as my feat at Nationals was great it wasn’t enough to top the senior Craig who set the new National record in the 100 butterfly. He won the Golden Fish award and for the next year he will be called goldfish. Even though I didn’t win first or the gold medal and even though I didn’t get the award I was happy, though to my father and I it was clear, that I, Carter Johnson, was finally the secret goldfish, which was the only thing that mattered.