Perfect Technique: Holy Sea Cow, Batman!
Fifty years ago, in the lead-up to his fight with George Foreman, Mohammad Ali uttered two immortal lines.
He said he would float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.
And so he did, knocking Foreman out to reclaim the world heavy weight title.
I know exactly how he felt. (Well, maybe not exactly.)
Mid-week I had my biggest win ever in the water.
I was chatting with a fellow swim teacher about butterfly (that ‘crazy’ stroke as my co-worker called it), when our area lead (a senior swim teacher) walked in.
‘I saw your butterfly,’ she said, looking at me. (I’d just swum some laps in the pool.)
‘Whoops,’ I said, instantly embarrassed. ‘I’m glad you recognised it.’
‘Of course I did,’ she said. ‘Perfect technique.’
I stared at her. What-the what-the?
Perfect technique for the stroke I’ve been labouring over for the past year and thought I’d never nail?
Amazing. In that moment I felt like my work here on earth was done; like I’d reached the summit of my existence.
I can float like a butterfly, swim like a manatee!
I was looking for something in the notes on my phone the other day when I came across a poem I’d written in the wee hours of the morning a while ago.
A poem called ‘da rkn ess’. A poem I like. A poem/I’m going to/win a big prize/with. That’s right: I’m actually going to submit something I’ve written to a competition.
Wish me luck – it’s me verses proper verse. (Sorry.)
It’s Father’s Day in Australialand today and I’ve already been given the best gift ever. (My son and I swam some laps together.)
During the week I discovered that, according to my teenage daughter’s friends, I’m a ‘zen dad’ – someone who’s pretty ‘chill’.
I don’t know about that, bro. But I do know I’ve led a charmed family life.
My kids are great!
And, as it happens, we got good news about them a few days ago. My son has been accepted by the Aviation High School (to study aerospace systems next year) and my daughter made it into her school’s volleyball team.
Charmed, I’m sure!
