Hugh Vandivier '91--On Wednesday, we were driving one of the vans down I-95 to Deerfield Beach, Florida, where the team had spent its past three holiday training trips. It was an excursion encouraged by Coach John Weitz to see Peter Casares, whose Bates team was training where we used to. (Coach Weitz gets to see his old team, Johns Hopkins, when we “scrimmage” with them on Friday.)

With 15 upperclassmen in tow, we took one of the vans to visit the former Wabash swim coach and his new team. Senior co-captain John Kasey was maneuvering around the stereotypical gauntlet of pokey retirees in late model Cadillacs, erratic blondes on their cell phones, and hip hop kids speed racing their tricked out Cameros down the HOV lane.

Those of us in the front started a discussion as sophomore Paul Wilson played a well-selected and eclectic array of songs on the radio from his iPod. At one point, Kasey turned to me and said, “You know, Hugh, you’re the Wabash swimming griot."

Unfamiliar with the term, I asked for clarification. Kasey explained, “It’s the member of an African tribe who is the keeper of the oral tradition and history. After learning about it in C&T, [Robert] Fozkos said, ‘That’s Hugh!’

“It’s a position of great respect within the tribe.”

Humbled, the comment managed to shut me up well past the point of our exit onto Hillsboro Blvd.

This season has been one fraught with change and transition that it seemed almost surreal to drive back into our old haunts. We pulled into the Deerfield Aquatic Center and filed into the gate. Peter stood on deck with his Bates zippered hoodie, his hair a little longer. Just like any reception, one by one, the guys came up to Peter and each gave him a big hug. He then told us to hang tight while he finished running his team through dry land exercises as Davidson finished up their practice.

The weather was ideal…for a mid-October Wabash football conference game, that is! That morning, we had already put the guys through some very vigorous dry land training. We had twenty minutes to kill, so instead of watching them loiter, I had them lie on the deck and ran them through a sped up version of mental training. The relaxation tape was a staple of my Florida training experiences with Coach Gail Pebworth, and I replicated it from memory the best I could. My voice became placid and deliberate as I coaxed them to monitor their breathing and slowly relax themselves. I then guided them through a mental scene of a confident swimmer plowing through the water and anticipating the pain to produce an ideal race.

With a great deal less zeal than a Polar Bear Club member, our guys slipped into the bracing water with their Bates counterparts as Peter ran them through a familiar warmup. As you would expect, Peter had been keeping up on the guys and was very impressed with Craig Vetor, who had turned in some impressive times in the December TYR meet. He stopped Nick Rockefeller and corrected his stroke as the rest of the guys worked in with the Bates squad. He grinned as senior co-captain Aaron Spolarich updated him on team and campus tidbits between sendoffs.

We curtailed the main set due to the frigid water and air, with our guys glad to hit the hot showers but concerned about the reduced yardage. Such a team attitude to commitment just made me grin.

Back at the Carriage House Resort, some of the guys took to the newly painted shuffleboard court, challenging Peter to a game in the dying light. I could sense some awkwardness in the coach, like a time traveler running into his former self. You could tell as he slipped into the easy banter with the guys that Wabash had had a great affect on him. And he on these swimmers. He asked sophomore Jordan Extine about his family with great interest. Jordan reported that his dad, a member of the Indiana National Guard, had just left for Iraq.

Soon, it was evident in the unseasonal evening chill that we needed to head back. Another impromptu line formed as Peter hugged and encouraged each of his former swimmers. When he reached me at the end of the line, I said, “John, again, wanted me to tell you ‘Thank you so much for this team.’”

Peter looked at me silently, with a smile creeping across his face.

On the way back I thought about how pleased I was with how our guys have adapted to all that has been thrown at them. And the mishaps and headaches on this trip thus far—the van trouble, logistics of a new place, unique encounters with locals—are very minor compared to year’s past. [Knock on wood for no ER visits.]

I know, I was there. Or at least I know the stories...