I’ve long been prone to athlete envy.
I wanted to play 3rd base for the New York Mets. Sitting in the stands with my grandpa at Shea Stadium on warm summer evenings, I imagined taking the field with my heroes, Tommie Agee and Donn Clendenon, Tom Seaver and Tug McGraw. I wanted to ride down 5th Avenue on the back of a convertible in a ticker tape parade celebrating winning the World Series.
Too bad I was only 10.
And then there was Chrissie Evert. I’d imagine standing on Center Court to face Martina Navratilova. We’d walk on the court together, stopping only to bow to the Queen’s Box. I’d hold my wooden Chris Evert autograph tennis racket, slightly bent at the waist and rock back and forth the way Chrissie did when she was about to return serve. There was no grunting. Chrissie didn’t grunt. She just smashed those legendary ground strokes across the net relentlessly wearing down her opponent by forcing them to run back and forth across the backcourt. I’d run up to the net after the final point, having just won Wimbledon. Smiling, I'd shake Navratilova’s hand as we turned towards the judge sitting high atop the chair. "Good game," I'd say, graciously.
The only problem was, I could never learn how to serve.
I wanted to be Dorothy Hamill. I got my hair cut in “the Wedge” and spent hours skating on the frozen pond at White Oak Park. I didn’t let the fact that I could only really skate in a straight line deter me too much. Safe in the confines of my bedroom, I’d practice my million-dollar toothy smile and ceremonial wave, just in case I ever found myself on top of the medal podium. And when I got there, you could be sure I would sing the National Anthem.
But I never got the chance.
And then along comes Michael Phelps. I’m wondering if it’s too late for a career in swimming. I mean, how hard can it be? 5-6 hours every day in the pool seems do-able. I would have to learn the breast stroke… and the butterfly… and the backstroke and of course those darn dolphin kick turns but I could do that. He eats a lot. I mean, when you spend that many hours swimming, you’ve got to have a healthy appetite. Good thing I’ve already got that covered. I even think, although it would not be pretty, I could do the spandex suits. Maybe, just maybe, I could be Michael Phelps.
We already know that I’ve got the podium thing down.