When I was in high school, swimming was my best sport. I still remember the first time I saw Gary Hall, Jr. swim. I was a freshman and he was a senior. We were at the hallowed grounds of the Plummer Aquatic Center at Arizona State University in Tempe. Gary Hall, Jr.’s father was an Olympic swimmer and Gary Hall Jr. would one day join that class. In fact, Hall would go on to win ten Olympic medals. I had never seen anything like Hall in a pool before. At 6’6” and probably 225 pounds, Hall looked more like a linebacker than a swimmer. In the water, his body rose above the water higher than anyone else’s, seemingly buoyed at his hips by an invisible force. He swam freestyle with a hitch, almost strutting through the water.

I was mesmerized: Hall wasn’t just the best swimmer in the pool. He was so cool. (I know what you non-swimmers are thinking “Cool in a Speedo? C’mon! My low standards for cool probably just show you how uncool I am.).

I remember returning back to Tucson and trying to emulate Hall’s hitch in my own stroke. You would be correct to assume that it didn’t magically propel me to the top of the water. Frankly, I’m sure I just looked stupid.

Four years later, I would be a decent swimmer in my own right. I would never get anywhere near as good as Hall, but every year I shaved more and more time off and would eventually be able to compete with the very best in Arizona.