Special Olympics Swimming

A few years ago, I had the great privilege of playing host for a Special Olympics team from San Marino, a small city state within Italy. I and a co-worker were their translators, guides, and chaperons for a 2 week competition held in the Twin Cities, Minneapolis and St. Paul.

Part of the team competed in the swim meet held in the University of Minnesota Natatorium. This is a huge building, with stands for the audience on one side, and a practice and competition pool. It's a really noisy place, as the walls reverberate when the crowd yells.

All of the Special Olympics events are run in a very structured fashion. First all of the competitors take part in a number of heats that are really time trials. Then the competitors with similar times are grouped together in heats, and awarded medals based on their finish -- gold, silver, bronze and participation. Everyone gets a medal, and there are very many medals.

One of our swimmers from San Marino also had a pretty severe physical disability. He walked with the aid of a cane. He had not actually gotten to participate in the initial heats, because the announcements were being made only in English. When I arrived and discovered this, I and the officials had some heated words. They began announcing in all 3 official languages. And they put our two competitors into the last heat - as they had missed the time trials. This particular young man, with the severe physical handicap, walked up to the starting block, and set his cane aside. At the gun, the swimmers dove into the water and swam with all of their might. Our team member had a rough time of it. He was working hard, but when the other swimmers had all reached the end of the pool, he was only about half way. But he continued swimming mightily. I was somewhat apprehensive that he might not be able to make it, but he kept swimming and swimming.

The entire audience, and all of the other competitors were standing and cheering him on mightily. In the natatorium, this became a deafening roar. He finally made it to the other end, and touched the wall, to a resounding cheer. He climbed out and accepted the ovation gracefully.

I went up to him, to find out how that had felt. He was very excited. He said: "I did my best time ever".

Here he is, the last of the last, and he is the happiest guy in the place. There's a lesson there.