I keep tabs on swimming. Like an over-caring doctor, I continually take its pulse. The purity of the sport keeps me attentive; the endorphin-high after a hard practice, my daughter shaving seconds off her best time, the family-feeling I get being among my own aquatic kind. We are a family. Age-groupers, masters, and Olympians are all essentially the same in my mind.
Sometimes, however, I wonder, Where do the fringe fit in? I'm talking about the new phenomenon of fanatical swim-fans, the millions we've gotten globally since the universe blessed us with the man, Michael Phelps...
Their appreciation, at times, can be extreme. I've seen it first hand--witnessed throngs of women clamoring for him, climbing over couches, or on the floor on their hands and knees, all to get one glimpse or a brief brush against Mr. Swimming.
Their appreciation has spilled over onto other swimmers too, though none as much as Ryan Lochte. Lochte, a Ford Model, has more Facebook fans than fan pages dedicated to successful reality TV shows. Lochte's Facebook fans even outnumber the classic hit, American Chopper! It's unbelievable, and even more so when you consider that Lochte does nothing on his Facebook fan page. It's frozen, inert, with only one photo. Still, fans join, and sing his praises, or confess their unabashed love.
Here's Lochte's one photo on his Facebook fan page:
What I'm building to is the "fan-fantasy" I've seen on the web since 2008, the fictional blogs about Ryan Lochte and Michael Phelps. It goes beyond anything the Olympic P.R. folks would dream up, and it's not something NBC or Universal Sports will dabble in. It's pure soup opera prose about swimmers in the throes of passionate love, an affair between two swimming men.
I wouldn't write about this if it were only an isolated incident, but it has been ongoing, and has multiplied, like a creative virus on the web.
Here's a sample of the latest, a post I found on LiveJournal:
Ryan’s not exactly what you’d call ‘the marrying kind.’ Michael knows this. They both know this. It’s kind of just been a drawn out booty call between them. That’s why it’s such a shock when the Floridian starts talking left hand rings and church bells. At first Michael thinks Ryan’s trying to freak him out enough so he’ll break up with him. After a few weeks of awkward conversations and Michael thinking they’re about to call it quits, Ryan falls apart and tells Michael everything.
For once in his life Ryan’s completely serious. His blue eyes are the color of a dark, fifty-foot tidal wave rumbling in at eighty miles an hour and gaining. His face is pale and his whispered words are deafening....
I have to cut the sample off there. It's goes beyond PG-13, a range my readers wouldn't appreciate. If you'd like to finish this author's work of fiction, here's a link. I'd like to add that it appears the author is woman, and that her fictional love affair between Phelps and Lochte veers into the realm of science fiction. The drama's built around a male pregnancy...
What to make of this? I don't really know. I certainly strive not to judge anyone's creative expression. I've spent more than a third of my life on the west coast. I think I'm more open-minded than most.
In the end, I think fan appreciation is a positive thing. Honestly, I'm just thankful anyone cares about swimming, particularly during the down time when swimmers aren't racing.
(IN SERIOUS NEWS, as I mentioned yesterday, I have an Olympic profile coming up, one I've been honored to do...)



