backstroke, breaststroke, sunstroke

Today was a long day. We spent 12 hours at the Smoky Mountain Invitational Swim Meet. It's held at the Springbrook pool in Alcoa, the town named after the aluminum company. My son swam in his first event around 9:30 or 10:00 a.m. His next races were not until after 3:30 p.m. During the long wait, my wife, my daughter and I would periodically go to the locker rooms and take cold showers in an attempt to beat the heat. We could have paid $1 each for wristbands to use the slide in the shallow end of the pool for an hour but the showers were free.

As usual, I did a little people watching. I saw a dad with a very creepy ponytail. I saw swimmers using a Sharpie to write their event and heat numbers on their hands and legs. I saw a poker game being played by a group of shirtless 12-year-old boy swimmers with figures like Bobby Bacala.