we love you coachie

My friend, Beth, texted me with the news yesterday morning. Mr. Rodby, our beloved, high school swim coach had passed away. I have to admit, it certainly made me sadder than I would have expected. I grew up in Eveleth and all my favorite high school moments happened there. When I graduated and left, time just stopped there. The little town where I grew up, where if you were Asian you were probably adopted and had white parents, is forever in my mind exactly the same as when I left it. I don't get back often enough for my paradigm to shift. In that world, Coach Rodby is the head swimming coach in perpetuity.

When you are in junior high and high school, your teachers are kind of just "old" to you already so it's hard to imagine that they actually get older. This is evidenced by the fact that when I see former teachers, they still look the same way that I remember them. Any former teachers reading this will have to take that for what it's worth - it is, of course, meant to be a compliment. But, time marches on. Kids grow up and have kids. People get older. Things change. These days my first elementary school crush coaches the hockey games I used to cheerlead at and one of my very first "Gilbert" friends refs the swim meets I used to swim at. Losing Coach Rodby definitely puts a tiny crack in the image that Eveleth has been frozen in time just as I left it. 

I spent most of my junior high and high school career smelling like chlorine. I grew up in that tiny 20 yard pool with girls, who to this day, are some of my closest friends. One of whom is even the godmother of my daughter. I walked into that tiny pool a few weeks into 7th grade, a bit confused about having to swim a 5-length 100 and dive off the wall for the relay, but eager to swim nonetheless. That eagerness never left me. I have always loved swimming. Not just the act itself, but the friendships and camaraderie that develops from morning practices, long bus rides, secret swimmers and weekends spent together at swim meets. We kicked butt, hauled some ass, got disqualified, cried, or set a PR and cheered. Each of us had a nemesis from a rival team, and while I will refrain from naming names to protect all parties involved - those of you who know, KNOW what I'm talking about. We each had our own psych song and you could often hear "Eye of the Tiger" blaring from our yellow school bus. I will always have a special place in my heart for these women, with whom I've shared at least a pool-ful of tears from both happiness and sadness.

the last supper

Rach imparting words of wisdom
to the underclassmen

Cocah Rodby was special to us, in a way that makes us think we were a greatest generation of sorts. We can't imagine there was a group of swimmers better than us. But we were just girls, who swam and dove and eventually graduated to move onto to other things. There were girls before us and after us. Coach probably had faster, tougher and less obnoxious girls than us. Records we set have since been broken - although we may go down in history for the skinny dipping incident. We were just a splash in his long and successful coaching and teaching career. I am grateful for being one of his swimmers. I am grateful for all the opportunities Coach Rodby gave me to succeed, to love a sport that will last me a lifetime (and a skill that will save me from drowning!), and to have been able to share it with some incredible people. 

Coach Rodby, you were many things to many people and will be missed by all who were lucky enough to know you! You were truly a saint for putting up with all the teenage girl drama, the long bus rides, the singing, and the early early mornings. We love you coachie!