The aquatic center at John Witherspoon Middle School, whether the swimmers like it or not, becomes a home shortly after joining Hamilton Aquatics, as this is where the two-a-day practices and the majority of our meets take place. The strong stench of chlorine floods into the nose and brings burning tears into everyone's eyes before even opening the doors, but that does not stop proud parents and the occasional HAC alumni with some spare time from packing themselves shoulder-to-shoulder like a pack of sardines into the bleachers that dominate the better part of the pool deck at every meet. Walking in, you are greeted by the shrieks of the guppies dreading diving into the ice cold water, the senior swimmers calculating what splits they need to swim to reach their goal time, and at least three girls lined up outside of Sue's tiny, octagonal office in the front of the deck, waiting to complain about their latest shoulder injury. Everyone is tripping over the pool noodles and kickboards spilling out of the two identical storage closets on either side of the office, always carrying an abundance of vintage team tee shirts and never enough Gatorade. Two of the more trusted athletes take their places atop the lifeguard stands, most likely reading the names of the record holders on the banners that line the walls as opposed to watching warm up because, in reality, do swimmers really need lifeguards?
At the start of the meet, the bright, young, hopeful Hamilton swimmer is standing like a statue behind the starting blocks, which stand almost as tall as the girl herself. She is not dancing with her teammates as she usually does, because this race demands every ounce of her energy. When the official standing beneath the scoreboard finally blows his whistle, signaling that the race is about to start, she hops in for the most critical race of her career, and you can see nothing but pure determination on her face and pure fear on Sue's. The girl turns her head ever so slightly after each flip turn, staring past the blue and white lane lines to her sides and directly into the harsh glare of the scoreboard to make sure her time is where it should be. Sue can barely even cheer, as she is gritting her teeth in anticipation and gripping her clipboard until her knuckles turn whiter than usual. She touches the wall, far ahead of her competition, and both yell out deafening screams of pure joy as the girl just achieved her first National cut, and punched her ticket to Greensboro, North Carolina for the spring. After the celebrating is over, Sue has time to reflect on why she started this team, and why she has still yet to retire. "The most rewarding part of being head coach was when I received a heart felt thank you letter from a swimmer who was going to quit swimming, came and swam for Hamilton, and had a remarkable season." Her squinty eyes become even smaller as they well with proud tears, and it becomes clear how she could influence so many ex-swimmers to join her team of coaches later in life.
Although the racing is top priority on the team, and ultimately her pride and joy, everyone's favorite and most cherished memories are the ones that happen outside the pool, showing Sue as a true friend rather than a coach. When the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie came out, Sue's husband just so happened to be out of town for the weekend, so she brought her herd of 50 rowdy teenagers to the movie, treated them to a greasy, delicious dinner of McDonald's, and invited them all over her house for a sleepover. "[My husband] never would have even known I let our house get trashed, if not for the fact that he found an abandoned sleeping bag in our bathroom a week later."
As relentless as Sue Welsh is at times, her tough love never outshines her heart of gold and pure, never ending love for her team, which will never be the same if it ever sees the day when she retires.
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