Home Swimming Pool Shedding The Franchise: A True Story

Shedding The Franchise: A True Story


Courtesy of Gary Corridor Sr., 10-time World Report Holder, 3-time Olympian, 1976 Olympic Video games US Flagbearer and The Race Club co-founder.

Half I

Coach Doc Counsilman tapped his foot impatiently on the asphalt of the cul-de-sac exterior of Royer Pool in Bloomington, Indiana. He was standing subsequent to one of many two remaining I.U. station wagons with the motors operating, wanting up on the sky on the darkish, swirling clouds above closing in. His spouse, Marge, was seated within the passenger aspect of the entrance seat, quietly ready. Three freshmen, John Kinsella, Mike Stamm, and Pat O’Connor, and I, now a sophomore, have been standing across the different white station wagon, shivering within the chilly and quickly falling temperature, ready for Doc’s directions. 

In early March, the climate in Bloomington is unpredictable, however anybody might see {that a} storm was shifting in rapidly. Doc didn’t get nervous fairly often, however I might see the involved look on his face. We had an extended drive forward of us to Columbus, Ohio for the Huge 10 Swimming Championships. Even with out a blizzard shifting in, having a bunch of younger swimmers driving these fleet automobiles was not precisely secure. We have been already 20 minutes late for departure.

“The place the hell is Duncan?”, Doc requested, glancing down at his watch,

Duncan Scott, one other freshman, was perpetually late and as we speak was no exception.

“You guys go forward and get going”, Doc mentioned, motioning us into the opposite station wagon. “I’ll anticipate him and can in all probability beat you there, anyway.” 

Doc’s repute for driving quick was legendary. We didn’t doubt what he mentioned.

Mike Stamm took the primary flip at driving and jumped in behind the wheel. Kinsella grabbed the entrance passenger seat, whereas O’Connor and I bought within the again. Earlier than lengthy, we have been on the freeway heading north towards Indianapolis. Don McLean singing Bye-bye Miss American Pie was blasting on the radio. Stamm and Kinsella have been rocking backwards and forwards within the entrance seat, singing alongside to the hit tune, whereas the white wagon swerved from one aspect of the lane to the opposite. 

By the point we reached I-70 going east, the snow was coming down closely. For the primary time, Mike grabbed the wheel with each fingers and slowed right down to about 60 mph. It was exhausting to see way more than 100 yards forward of us. I reached down to verify my seat belt was tightened.

As soon as we crossed the Ohio state line, the storm had change into a full-blown blizzard. The visibility was now measurable in ft, not yards. We had slowed right down to about 30 mph and I used to be feeling very nervous at that velocity. Stamm took his eyes off the street for only a cut up second to watch the blinking pink gentle on the dashboard.

“S#*t!” he exclaimed moderately loudly. “We’re nearly out of fuel. We’ve bought to tug over on the subsequent fuel station.”

We crawled off the freeway on the subsequent off-ramp, the place a fuel signal was posted close to the exit. Once we got here to the cease signal on the finish of the off-ramp, there was no fuel station. We regarded each methods and couldn’t see any signal of 1, so we took an opportunity and turned proper.

It appeared like we crept alongside for 5 miles down a little bit two-lane street in the course of a full-blown blizzard, someplace in rural Ohio, till we lastly came across a fuel station. The lights contained in the station have been on.

“Thank God,” Stamm mentioned, respiration a sigh of aid. “They’re open.”

He pulled in slowly subsequent to one of many pumps and the person contained in the workplace jumped out of his chair and got here out to fill our tank. Self-service stations had not but been invented. He was wearing an enormous winter coat with a kind of hunting-style hats on with the insulated flaps pulled down over his ears. Whereas he stuffed the tank, all of us went into the lavatory.

O’Connor and I have been the primary ones out of the lavatory and went again exterior. Pat took the wheel and I sat within the entrance passenger seat. I had a little bit extra confidence in Pat’s driving capability than I did with Stamm, so felt secure sufficient to take a seat in entrance, even in a blizzard.

After paying for the fuel with the I.U. bank card, Mike and John got here again to the automotive. Stamm jumped within the again, however John knocked on the window of the entrance passenger seat, the place I used to be now buckled in.

“Hey,” Kinsella mentioned. “I used to be sitting within the entrance. You took my seat.”

Although John had gained the James E. Sullivan Award as America’s greatest newbie athlete only one yr earlier than in 1970 and he was Doc’s primary recruit, he was nonetheless a freshman. I used to be a sophomore. Seniority had its place. 

I reached up with my left hand and pushed the lock knob down on the passenger door and motioned with my thumb. “Get within the again,” I informed him.

“F#@k you!” he screamed. “I had that seat.”

O’Connor now had the motor operating and regarded over on the two of us. 

“Let’s train him a lesson,” Pat mentioned. With that he pulled out of the station and made a proper flip again towards the freeway, leaving John on the station within the blizzard with the fuel station attendant. 

Pat drove a couple of mile down the street, then made a U-turn and mentioned. “OK. Let’s return and choose him up now. Hopefully, he’ll get within the again seat.”

Once we pulled again into the fuel station, not more than ten minutes had handed since we had left. There was no signal of Kinsella. We walked again into the workplace the place the fuel station attendant was watching some program on a small black and white tv. His gloves and hat with ear muffs have been nonetheless on.

“Have you ever seen our buddy?” I requested. “The man we left right here?”

He regarded up from the TV, seemingly irritated. “He began strolling again towards the freeway after you guys left him.”

I ran again out to the station wagon, jumped in and informed Pat and Mike that John was strolling within the blizzard again towards the freeway. One might scarcely see 20 ft forward. Pat pulled out of the station as rapidly as he might with out sliding round an excessive amount of and began driving north, very slowly. Whereas they regarded on one aspect of the street, I searched on the opposite. We crawled all the manner again to the freeway however discovered no signal of John. 

“There is no such thing as a manner he might have made it again to the freeway on foot,” Pat mentioned. “He should nonetheless be again on the station. I guess he’s laughing at us proper now.”

We drove again to the station as rapidly as we might, but he was not there. The attendant confirmed that he left on foot.

We scoured each side of the street once more. There was no hint of John.

“Holy s%#t,” Pat mentioned, with the clear sound of trepidation in his voice. “We simply misplaced the Sullivan award winner. Doc goes to kill us.”

With no different actual choice, Pat reluctantly pulled again onto I-70 heading east. There have been two lanes on the freeway, however it didn’t matter. We couldn’t see any lane markers. The freeway was coated in snow, with extra coming down by the minute. Pat simply managed to remain in the course of the freeway making an attempt to keep away from a collision with something. 

After what appeared like an hour driving maybe at 20 mph, we noticed a determine standing in the course of the freeway, coated in snow. He had an extended stocking cap on and held his thumb out making an attempt to wave a trip. Once we bought to about 20 ft of him, we might see it was John. His face was a sheet of ice.

“Gary, hop within the again seat!” Pat screamed. He pulled up alongside John and stopped the automotive in the course of the freeway, summoning him to get within the entrance seat.

John jumped in entrance, miraculously earlier than somebody slammed into us from behind. 

For the subsequent 2 hours on that lengthy trip to Columbus, not a single phrase was uttered by any of us. We had no thought how John had gotten there. We have been simply glad he was alive, however it was deathly silent within the automotive all the best way to Columbus.

Half II

A couple of weeks earlier than the Huge 10 Swimming Championships of 1971, Sports activities Illustrated despatched considered one of its most well-known photographers to Indiana College in Bloomington to shoot a bunch photograph of 4 of the quickest swimmers on the planet, Mark Spitz, John Kinsella, Mike Stamm and me. In these days, Doc’s Indiana groups dominated NCAA swimming and this one was heading towards its fourth consecutive championship. With a really proficient freshman recruiting class, this I.U. staff might have been the most effective one ever. It was predicted that if the I.U. swimming staff had been a rustic, moderately than a faculty, we’d have been fourth within the swimming medal depend on the 1972 Olympic Video games. With Spitz successful 7 gold medals there, that was nearly proper. In 1970, the I.U. males’s swimmers held 9 out of the 12 particular person world data.

There was a catch. Sports activities Illustrated additionally promised that if we did one thing particular on the Huge 10 Championships, not solely would they run the article in regards to the nice I.U. swimming staff, they’d additionally put the photograph of the 4 of us on the duvet. There had not been too many swimmers on the duvet of Sports activities Illustrated as much as that time, so it was an enormous incentive for Doc. The one thing particular was that he wanted to have all six finalists (solely six swimmers swam in finals in these days) within the 200 IM on the primary day be I.U. swimmers. What higher manner was there to point out staff dominance? Contemplating the extent of competitors within the Huge 10, that was a tall order. Nonetheless, Doc informed them he thought that we might try this.

As Pat O’Connor neared the exit off of the I-70 to get to Ohio State, it was practically as frigid contained in the automotive because it was exterior. The one steam appeared to be popping out of John Kinsella’s ears, as he was nonetheless fuming mad at us. Simply earlier than the exit, with the snow nonetheless coming down exhausting, we peered right down to the left to see a white station wagon caught on the backside of a deep V-shaped meridian dividing the interstate. The tracks within the snow from the station wagon have been nonetheless seen happening to the underside of the incline from the alternative aspect, the place the automotive had clearly gotten caught. It regarded as if the automotive was making an attempt to make a U-turn down the embankment, however couldn’t make it up the opposite aspect. Not many would even think about making an attempt to try this stunt.

As we handed the stranded car, we might see Doc sitting behind the wheel with Marge’s head resting on the dashboard. 

“Oh my God!” we mentioned. “It’s Doc and Marge.”

We thought for a second about turning round and making an attempt to rescue them, however realized we’d simply get caught. In addition to, we actually didn’t need Doc to seek out out that we nearly misplaced the franchise, Kinsella, his prize swimmer. We determined to let a tow truck pull them out and made our manner towards Ohio State.

We have been the final swimmers to reach on the previous Ohio State pool, the place we have been instructed to go to heat up for the meet the next morning. With the driving mishap, Doc wouldn’t arrive on the pool in time to heat us up. By the point he bought pulled out from the meridian, he wanted to go on to the Huge 10 coaches assembly held the evening earlier than the primary day of competitors.

Our supervisor, Mark Wallace, whom we known as Mark-Mark, to assist differentiate from Mark Spitz, determined he would heat us up. To us that was laughable, as Mark-Mark didn’t even know how one can swim. After about 10 minutes within the competitors pool, all of us discovered our option to the previous spa pool, positioned behind the diving boards. It was like one thing out of the films of the 1930’s; rectangular with fountains within the corners, heat water and no home windows. There was only one huge field of sentimental spongy kick boards at one finish of the pool. In any other case, no different tools or lane traces have been in there.

For the subsequent hour, about 20 I.U. swimmers engaged in one of the vital intense and thrilling video games of kick board struggle conceivable. The article was to not get hit by a flying kickboard, otherwise you have been out of the sport. With kickboards flying in nearly each path by way of the air, avoiding them was no simple activity. On the finish of an hour of flipping and hurling kick boards at excessive velocity, Invoice Heiss, a tall, sturdy swimmer from Colorado, was declared the winner. We took an extended sizzling bathe in what have been possible the most effective showers of any pool I had ever swum in, then made our option to the resort.

The next morning, the day of the 200 IM, Heiss, who was imagined to be one of many six I.U. swimmers within the finals, couldn’t even elevate his proper arm above his shoulder. It was so sore from throwing kick boards, he was in agony. Within the butterfly leg of his IM, he regarded like a hen with a damaged wing. He missed making the finals by 1/10th of a second. As an alternative of six I.U. swimmers within the finals, there have been solely 5 I.U. swimmers and one from Ohio State. Doc was not pleased.

It didn’t make him any happier when he later found that we had nearly misplaced and frozen his franchise freshman swimmer, Kinsella. Earlier than the finals, Doc reamed us out for 30 minutes, calling us probably the most immature group of swimmers he had ever coached. That was earlier than he even knew in regards to the kick board struggle. 

On the duvet of the subsequent concern of Sports activities Illustrated was Wes Parker, the golden glove first baseman for the red-hot LA Dodgers. There was a pleasant article about Doc and the Indiana Hoosiers swimming staff contained in the journal, however the kickboard struggle stored us off the duvet.

Three weeks later, Doc managed to neglect all of that, as Indiana gained its fourth consecutive NCAA Division I Championships in Ames, Iowa. As anticipated, the franchise, Kinsella, together with Spitz, Stamm and I, got here by way of with a lot of wins and some American data. Doc was pleased once more.

Yours in swimming,

Gary Sr.

Gary Corridor, Sr., Technical Director and Head Coach of The Race Membership (courtesy of TRC)

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