92: The One in the Fall (For Those in The Arena)

 

These two were in the arena for sure. You can tell be the exhaustion and determination in their faces.  Jeff Fulford and Rees Franklin at the SA Fall Picnic, taking a breather from the admirable and thankless task of representing our class in the water.

Sunday, October 6, 1991 was the day of our school’s annual Student Association Swim Meet (also known informally as the Fall Picnic).  After our class’s stunning triumph at the SA Anything Goes Night, we returned to form for the swim meet, once again coming in dead last.

Here’s my journal account of the day:

“Today was the Fall Picnic, The Annual  S.A. Drown Meet (Swim meet for all the other classes. 92 does not swim).  I did manage to have more fun at this fall picnic than at any other.  I got up early this morning, about 8:30, worked out and washed my car.  Went down to the school about 11:20 and was there pretty much the rest of the day.  I spent the first part waxing and detailing the exterior of  my car and listening to the Beatles and talking to Greg and Chris C and various and sundry others while I worked.  Afterwards I basically hung out.  Chris C, Greg, Steve, myself, and some others had a BBQ which was pretty good.  Carissa swam in a number of races and did all right for herself.  In the butterfly she did her leg of the relay faster than anyone else.  Unfortunately the rest of the team wasn’t so hot.  

The Senior Class--long may it reign--came in dead last, but nobody cared.  The big heroes of the day for 92 were the volleyball team; Carissa, and Jeff Fulford were on that.  They along with Sandra Rivas were the only seniors to place first in anything.

It was awesome.  At awards our class stole the show.  We went nuts from the time they announced our standing til the end.  The Junior class who won went unnoticed.  Chris C and I did our part for the class and stole the juniors flag and put it in the toilet.  It was hilarious although Cotta bashed up his foot a bit. It was pretty cool though.

Our play practice got cancelled because of the picnic and Julie Smith (our director) was mad as hell.”

I have to express appreciation for members of the class that actually went out there and put themselves on the line for our class--and not just those few like Sandra and the volleyball team who won--but all those seniors of 92 who toiled away in the water only to be passed up by others.  Theirs was a thankless job that deserves appreciation.  Far more than those like me, who did nothing but watch from the sidelines (and apparently I didn’t even do that much for part of the day when I was detailing my car and BBQing) and engage in petty flag stealing (and in that case, the inclusion of myself in that prank is a bit generous--Chris was the one who did all the actual work and paid the actual price). I’m reminded of the speech by Theodore Roosevelt, often titled “The Man in the Arena”:

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."

Diving in. I think the person in the pink trunks is our president Mark Reams

Carissa Berard in the arena (or the pool anyway). That's Susan Scott presumably coaching her.

Sandra Rivas Cole slayed them on the ping pong table. I think that's Anita Hodder Jimenez on the silver podium?

The senior volleyball team celebrates their win

This one goes out to all those of the class of 92 who were actually in the pool and on the court on that sunny October day--those who strove valiantly, who erred, who came up short again and again, yet kept swimming, kept fighting, kept pushing. To you, who did it because that’s what you'd signed up to do, to you who did it for our class:  I know it’s thirty years too late, but I’ll say it anyway. Thank you.  And even though the pool in which you swam is now long cemented over and your valiant efforts are long forgotten, in your heart you can know that your place will never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.  You may not have succeeded that day, but you dared greatly, and it is you that represent the true heart of the class of 92 at our best.

The class of 92 takes the philosophical approach to coming in last.