I’m staying out at my brother and sister-in-law’s house tonight because their proximity to Dulles is the only thing that will make tomorrow’s far-too-early plane departure happen. Because I was out here on a weeknight, I ended up getting to go to my nephew D’s swim meet.
Now, it’s been many, many years since I’ve been to a swim meet – since I was on the j.v. swim team for my high school, in fact. And while we never swam outdoors, I was struck by how familiar it all seemed: the matching racer-back suits, goggles, and swim caps; the smell of chlorine; the start whistles; the waiting around between events.
One thing did seem to be mostly missing, however – the singing. There are (of course) no cheerleaders in swimming, so I remember us having a variety of little ditties we’d sing to get psyched up. This one has been stuck in my head since tonight’s meet :
“Everywhere we go…
People want to know…
Who we are…
So we tell them:
We are the Patriots!
The mighty mighty Patriots!”