streets having the same name. There we were...on the corner of "One Way" and "One Way," introducing ourselves to ourselves.

In a little while we had collected our members at a big cement pond and were meeting another team--something called City of Commerce. One of their players turned to me and said:
"Here's luck to you."
"What kind?" I asked.
"No, I mean...I'd like to wish you luck." "Why don't you?" I replied. It seemed like an
honest question.

He just sort of shook his head and closed one eye. I allowed as to how he'd got a cinder in it. But this was not so, for as the game proceeded he seemed to have remarkable eyesight and an affinity for throwing this yellow cannonball into a net. He and his friends did so some thirty odd times, and more than once almost struck me with it...but I managed to get out of the way each time. I must own that they were not very fair, though, for they never once let us have that yellow cannonball, nor did we get a goal, a completed pass, or even a shot! Each time, a herd of them would sail down the pond toward me, leaving our team all alone at the other end, then they would play catch in front of the net and wave the yellow cannonball about--for effect, I judged-- then boom...and another boom...sometimes boom-boom- boom! but always the inevitable happened and the net would catch the ball. I reckoned the "booms" were increasing until by and by someone shot a gun at someone and everyone left the water. It must have been good ol' Arne Lagerkvist who had been shot, for we had to carry him from the pond--single file, to the tune of the Colonel Bogie March. I allowed that we had made but one mistake--thirty times. Another player, Larry Dalton, observed that I could "kiss my Tokyo hopes sayonara," whatever that means....

(stay tuned for next month's exciting loss--only 20-0) Seaweed (Shell-Shocked) Sully

Contribution: The following is a contribution (Foam-Fare's first from out-of-state) from Art Brandt of University Heights, Ohio. It is particularly significant because it was written by an age-group swimmer and is, therefore, probably representative of the group who are the core of swimming today. In his discussion Art takes under consideration both the age-group parent and the swimmer himself. What better source of information about swimming than the swimmer himself?

by Art Brandt: Through ten years of age-group swimming I've seen prejudices and hatreds between people all over the country. Swimmers in the older age groups notice and realize these hatreds continually grow. There are hatreds between coach and coach, parent and coach, and swimmer and parent. The swimmer can idolize his or her coach but mommy or daddy hate him because their little Johnny isn't progressing. These hatreds will keep growing because the competition is stiffer and goals are higher. I and many of my friends were never pushed, because we had parents who cared, and cared the right way...the helpful way in a manner that would keep and improve our interest and liking for the sport of swimming. When I joined the "Y", I met a woman who had three sons. They were good swimmers with strong potential. She never pushed nor screamed, but drove to practice and probably twice around the

(cont'd next page)