The Winning Stroke (3 page)

As they started the fourth and final lap, they were side by side, so close it was impossible for Jerry to see who was ahead.
It really didn't matter. He just
wanted one of them, clearly the two best swimmers in the pool, to be the winner.

“Come on, Lars! Come on, Wayne!”

He found himself shouting and cheering along with the other spectator swimmers.

People must think I'm nuts, he figured. I don't care. I just want to see the best one win!

And then it was over. In a final burst of speed, someone had touched the edge of the pool first. Coach Bob Fulton had been
crouched right there in his white thongs, watching to see whose extended fingertip had made first contact with the tile.

Now, the coach stood up and blew his whistle for attention.

“The winner is — Lars Morrison!” he announced.

There was a scattering of applause from the stands. Lars and Wayne slapped high fives on each other. Then they splashed a
little water in fun at the other guys and climbed out of the pool.

“So, what did you think?” asked Tanya.

Jerry had been so caught up in the race, he hadn't seen her come up beside him. She stood next to him carrying a jacket and
an armful of books.

“It was okay,” he admitted. “Is that it? I mean, are there any more races?”

“No, we had a meet last Saturday, so Coach made it a light workout for the team today,” she said. “Some of the others will
do some extra laps now, but I have a lot of homework. Are you ready to leave?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said.

As they left the pool area, he glanced back and saw Lars and Wayne. Both of them were thrashing their way through the water
again. You couldn't even tell that they'd been in a race a few minutes ago. They really must love swimming, he thought. I
don't get it.

Dr. Gold and Coach Fulton had agreed that Jerry should do his pool therapy only every other day. So he wasn't back in the
pool until Wednesday after school.

As he got into his swimming trunks, he felt a little more at home than he had on Monday. He wondered whether there would be
a regular team practice today. Who would be there? Both the guys and the girls? Would Tanya be swimming again?
Would Lars? Wayne? And what was practice like, anyhow?

With those thoughts running through his head, he got into the water to begin his therapy. Therapy? Hah! It was a real workout.
He was surprised to find his arms still hurt from Monday's laps. It sure was nothing like the warm-up exercises he'd done
at baseball practice last year. Gee, they'd probably be getting set for spring training, and he'd be splashing around in a
stinky old swimming pool.

“Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty! Done!”

He'd finished the last exercise. The pool was still empty. None of the members of the swim team had arrived for their practice
yet. He was all alone in this big space, surrounded by the tiled walls, the wooden seats, the sunken lights, and the cool,
green water. All he had left was his swimming laps.

As he swam up and down the pool in his usual lazy crawl, his arm muscles started to loosen up. His leg still hurt a bit, but
it wasn't as bad as Monday. By the time he'd done four laps, he was feeling much better. And he was no longer alone. Several
others were parting the waves in different lanes.

As Jerry pulled himself out of the water, he wondered if these swimmers felt like part of a team. Sure, they had uniforms
and a great coach, but it wasn't the same thing as running out on the field with eight other guys at the start of the game.
And warm-ups in baseball meant throwing the ball around with your teammates, not plowing through the water in your own lane.
You won a game because your team worked like a well-oiled machine, each player doing his part. In swimming, the team members
competed against one another!

Still, as Jerry toweled off, he could feel a kind of team spirit float over the water.

Yeah, but it's weird, Jerry thought. Why would anyone choose this sport over baseball or another team sport?

That got him thinking about baseball tryouts. They'd be starting any day now. He might not be able to join the team right
away. But even Doc Gold had said he should be able to play later in the season. Maybe he could pinch-hit or fill in if someone
got sick.

Jerry tried to push the image of himself sitting on
the bench as far from his mind as possible. It was too painful to imagine waiting in vain for someone on the team to drop
out.

“Hey, you're becoming a regular swimming fan!” The voice at his elbow startled him out of his gloomy thoughts.

“Well, I can't really play baseball yet,” he said. “It helps pass time.”

“You ought to think about swimming,” said Tanya. “I saw you doing your laps. You're not all that bad.”

“Laps? Oh, you mean my therapy.”

“Whatever you call it, I've seen worse,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I'll stick to my exercises,” he said. “That's what's going to get my leg back in shape so I can play baseball.”

But that Friday, after he had whipped through his routine exercises, he found himself looking forward to swimming his laps.

Coach Fulton came by and watched him do the first two runs back and forth. “Let's put a little more zip into it,” he called.
“Get that blood circulating!”

Jerry tried to swim harder, but he didn't manage to go any faster.

When he climbed out of the pool, the coach was
gone. He knew that there was another half hour before practice because he had checked the schedule outside the coach's office.
As usual, a few early birds had arrived and started their warm-up on the other side of the pool. Tanya was one of them. She
left a group of girls and came over to talk to him.

“Not bad,” she said. “Until the coach yelled at you and you choked.”

Despite the coolness of the water, Jerry's face burned.

“I didn't choke,” he protested.

“Yes, you did,” she said matter-of-factly. “You tried too hard and you got sloppy. I do it all the time. Everyone does. But
I'm getting better.”

“I can see,” he said.

“You know what would really help me?”

“What?” he asked.

“If someone would swim with me when I do my extra practice,” she said. “I hate doing it alone. It feels strange being all
by myself in the pool — not like competition. What do you think? Would you mind helping me out?”

“Me? Swim with you?”

“I'm not asking you to jump blindfolded off the
high diving board,” she said. She took off her bathing cap and shook out her short blonde hair. “I'll just come by at the
end of your therapy. We can do laps side by side, okay?”

“Well, okay, I guess so,” he said. “My exercises are getting real boring. Maybe doing the laps with someone will make my leg
heal quicker.”

“Uh huh,” she said. “Just one more thing.”

“What's that?”

“Get a decent swimsuit,” she said, giggling.

4

On Monday, Tanya showed up at the pool just as Jerry finished his last leg exercise. Without a word, she jumped into the pool
and got ready to start her laps.

“Okay, six laps?” said Jerry, wiping off his face with his palm. She nodded, and he moved into a lane right next to her.

“Ready, set, go!” she shouted. And off they went.

Jerry kept up with her at first. But to his surprise and embarrassment, he finished almost a full lap behind. And then, as
he cooled off and stood there in the water, she swam two more laps before quitting.

Beaten by a
girl!
Jerry groaned inwardly. Get me out of this pool and onto the baseball diamond! Then he heard a familiar footstep behind him.

“Nice stroke, Tanya,” said the coach. He paused and looked at Jerry. For a minute, Jerry thought he was going to say something
about
his
stroke. Instead, he just asked, “How do you like swimming against someone?”

“It's okay, I guess,” Jerry replied. But I'd like it much better if I won, he added silently.

The coach went on. “Why don't you come to practice some time next week and work out against some of the guys? Not that Tanya
can't give you some real competition. But mixing it up might be a good change. We only do an hour workout on Mondays, and
I think it would benefit your leg. It certainly won't hurt it.”

“Well, okay, if you think it'll help,” said Jerry. But secretly, he wasn't sure he'd like it all that much. Losing to Tanya
was bad enough — now the whole team would see him come in last!

“I'm sure it'll be good for you,” said the coach. “You can cut the exercises in half And skip the laps. You'll get enough
of those in practice.”

Tanya was patting herself down with a towel when Jerry came out of the pool.

“I overheard what the coach said. Don't worry —he wouldn't suggest you swim with the team if he
didn't think you could keep up. And by the way, nice threads,” she said, admiring his new navy blue swimmer's briefs.

He smiled. Secretly, he was glad his mother had gotten them for him at the mall on Saturday. It really did feel a lot better
cutting through the water than when he had his aloha trunks on. And, after all, since they were dark, he figured no one would
notice him when he showed up at practice.

Over the weekend, Jerry tried not to think about what it would be like at the pool with all those kids who were really into
swimming. He was used to being in top shape for any sport he played. Even though baseball was his number one choice, he liked
to play touch football, too. He was a terrific passer, and he loved scoring touchdowns. He also loved playing one-on-one basketball
with his kid brother in front of the garage and could hold his own with any of the kids on the street. But swimming, real
sports swimming, was something new. He decided he'd just be cool and push it out of his mind until the time came.

Instead, he spent his time doing a few chores he'd
put off for a while. He started out by giving the family dog, Yogi, a good brushing. The gray-and-white miniature schnauzer
loved to be brushed, and Jerry really put some effort into it.

“Don't wear out that brush,” his father called over to him as he vacuumed the inside of his car.

The two of them were alone in the garage, doing their respective jobs.

“I've gotten so used to counting,” said Jerry. “I gave her fifty strokes on one side, then fifty on another, then fifty on
her back … and then I lost count and started all over again! Say, Dad, what do you think of swimming?”

“A little early for a trip to the beach, I'd say,” replied Mr. Grayson.

“I mean competitive swimming, as a sport,” Jerry said.

“I think it's great,” said his father. “Takes a lot of discipline as well as ability. You can get a lot of satisfaction out
of swimming for a long time, even after you stop competing. Why? Are you thinking of taking it up?”

“Nah,” said Jerry. But in the back of his mind, he was thinking about what Tanya had said. Did Coach
Fulton really think he could hold his own against the more seasoned swimmers?

By Monday afternoon, Jerry could hardly wait for classes to end. You might think I was going to batting practice, he said
to himself. But, instead, the minute the closing bell rang, he made his way over to the poolside locker room. He changed into
his new blue nylon swimsuit and headed for the pool.

There was still a half hour before team practice began, plenty of time to do his exercises.

“Twenty-four, twenty-five!”

He looked up at the clock. Ten minutes to go.

The pool quickly began to fill up with boys and girls. He now recognized one or two from classes.

Tanya came in talking to Tony Kendrix, who was in his earth science class. Tony was almost a foot taller than Tanya, but he
was all legs. He had jet-black curly hair that looked like a mop on his head from the other side of the pool. But he was no
one to laugh at. When he dropped the towel that was draped around his shoulders, Jerry could see how muscular his upper body
was, like a weight lifter's.

Tanya and Tony joined the others in the pool,
paddling about, showing each other certain moves, and generally having a good time.

Coach Fulton interrupted their playing around by blowing his whistle. Before he even said a word, the boys and girls started
separating. Jerry automatically fell in with the boys over on his side of the pool.