|
|
|
|
|
Links To order Vermont Tails: contact Marcotte at: rudy@surfglobal.net |
Bottoms Up by Bradley A. Marcotte '75B.A. Perhaps my only legitimate "claim to fame" is that I was a member of the very last all male freshman class at the University of Notre Dame. Co-education commenced the ensuing year [1972], which most agree was healthy and overdue. However, with the admission of young women, many traditions died or had to be recalibrated to accommodate them. In the case of the Notre Dame swim test, this was undoubtedly a blessing. Every student at Notre Dame had to take and pass physical education. In order to receive a passing grade, you had to prove a proficiency in swimming. The semester was divided into three cycles. You could choose to take as many as six different sports from a very broad menu of options, like tennis, racquetball, golf, and handball among others ASSUMING you passed the initial swimming examination. Non-swimmers were required to take swimming until they passed, even if it took all year (six cycles). It didn't matter how badly that you wanted to join your peers in the other, more "fun" sports. It didn't matter if you were a highly recruited, scholarship athlete. No exceptions were made! EVERYBODY had to pass swimming in order to pass physical education and ultimately obtain one's diploma. The swim test experience was unique. Because of the sheer numbers involved in taking the test, the college was reluctant to issue swimsuits to students who would pass the test, and ultimately not need them. At least, that's what I was told or have since deduced. I would estimate that there were over 1500 freshmen divided into eight all day testing modules. So there were approximately 200 freshmen in my module alone of which perhaps 75% would pass the test. Why issue and launder 1500 swimsuits when ultimately only 350 would be needed? It is also important to note that, supposedly, individually-owned swimsuits were not allowed in the pool per order of State of Indiana Public Pool Swimming Regulations. Before entering the pool, everyone also had to first shower and then walk through a gauntlet of high pressure sprayers. This was very cold and smelled of formaldehyde. The whole process was a bit intimidating for a Vermont farm boy. I was raised on a working farm. Consequently, as a kid, when all of my friends were taking swimming lessons, I was either helping my family hay, or my parents were simply unable to transport me to the lake. So although I could dog-paddle and swim underwater extremely well, neither skill was going to be tested during the Notre Dame swimming exam. At first, everything at Notre Dame was overwhelming and new to me. I had never set foot on the Notre Dame campus until my first day there as a student. Hence, I did not know a soul. I had also not gone to a high school where football was offered not did I even know what a steroid was. So when some of my peers displayed BIG, chiseled, athletic physiques with more hair on their backs than I had on my head, my male ego wanted to hide somewhere. I also felt so alone and out of place as I was marched through the showers, then the water gauntlet with 200 of these strangers/peers. To top it off, I was informed that we would be taking our swim test in the buff! Yes, buck naked! Coupled with the fact that I barely knew how to swim, I quite frankly started to miss my mommy. At the very least, it was apparent that this bare bottomed, swim test was going to be quite a memorable experience. On entering the pool area, I quickly noted that the Holy Cross Brothers administering the swim test had not joined us in our "natural state." They were comfortably clad in their swimsuits. In fact, armed with their clipboards, they were all business as they stationed themselves at each corner of the Olympic-sized pool. The procedure was simply to line up and then to swim a prescribed swim stroke from one corner of the pool to the other. Each stroke could receive a maximum score of 10 points. Obviously, a perfect score would be 40 and a score of 25 was required to pass. If you couldn't swim at all or didn't know a particular stroke, you simply walked from one corner of the pool to the next to receive your 0 score. Most of my naked peers scored the required 25 points. I was not so fortunate. I walked the crawl stroke, received six points for my "modified" sidestroke, a nine for my backstroke, and walked the breast stroke for a grad total of 15 points. Some people have tried to read into my very high score for the backstroke because of the circumstances previously described. It is very humiliating for me and equally insulting to the Brother that scored my raw swimming ability to attribute more to this than could be seen with the naked eye. In any event, my reward for all of this ended up being an 8:00 a.m. swim class three days a week until I could pass the swim test. We were eventually issued swimsuits, if you can call them that. These State of Indiana-Approved Swimsuits were dull gray and made of a material similar to what was used in longjohns. In fact, they looked as if someone have simply cut the legs off an old set of oversized, long underwear. Once in the pool, they soaked up water like a sponge, weighing me down, contributing further to my swimming woes. My recollection of swimming class will always be highlighted by two memories. First, there were two African-American football players in my swim class. These young men were two of the most recruited football athletes in America. They would ultimately star at Notre Dame and go onto great careers in the National Football League. In retrospect, I admired their sense of humor. Beside the Olympic pool was a kiddie pool where we took most of our actual lessons. These two guys were the only ones in our class who chose to wear swim caps - bright, white ones. As we stood in the kiddie pool, red kick-boards in hand, they would sing what were then called old Negro spirituals. To this day, whenever I hear the song "Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen," I still think of then, scissor kicks, and proper breathing. My other memory was of perpetually hugging the ankles of Brother Jim. I would beg him daily to have mercy on me and to ask God to grant him the charity to give me a passing grade on my swimming examination. It seemed like I might spend the rest of my natural life at the Notre Dame kiddie pool. Eventually, my pleadings paid off, and by Christmas vacation I successfully passed and was allowed to participate in other activities. I'm proud to report that I eventually did receive my Notre Dame diploma. However, I would be lying if I were to say that I know how to swim. © Bradley A.Marcotte * * * Notre Dame Magazine Online, July 2002
|
Vermont Tails |
|
| © Notre Dame Magazine |
|
