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	BEIJING BECKONS

It was only appropriate that we stopped in China on the way back from Australia. It was actually one of two trips I had made there during the year. On the first trip, we attended a VISA Friendship Lanes tour to promote swimming and the Special Olympics. I met some amazing kids at some schools in Shanghai. I’m not sure if they knew who I was and whether they really cared, but someone who didn’t quite understand what they said was paying attention to them and trying to make friends. That they certainly understood, even without a translator.

We attended a runaway media event in Beijing as part of the tour. I say that because as we were outside our tour bus one day, we were swarmed by over a hundred people with pads, picture cameras, and video cameras. It wasn’t so much the numbers of people, but rather the way they fought one another for positioning as we were trying to make our way through the crowd. People shouted, elbowed, and plowed one another over. If only the Ravens were here to take some lessons. Katie was on the tour and started to freak out because of all the congestion. We managed to call in the local police who appeared in force and cleared everyone out in seconds. I guess when the police tell you to disperse in China, you don’t question them.

We went out for karaoke one night on the second trip and I’m pretty sure American Idol won’t be calling for the video. I sang “Sweet Caroline” in a moment that will not be repeated for public viewing again. Peter and Drew each tried their hands at Madonna. The performance was, um, borderline.

Ian, Katie, and I have since started to learn the language using the Rosetta Stone program. Chinese is a lot harder for Americans to try to understand than Spanish or French, which have some similar words you can sort of pick out. I remember ni-hao, which means hello. The rest I’m still figuring out.

While I was away, I had friends look after Herman, who didn’t seem to miss me as much as I missed him. He was so inspired by my return that he thought about running a few laps around the block, but instead he rolled over and took a nap. Even if Herman didn’t care much, it felt good to be among familiar distractions (and new ones). Besides poker and my usual array of video games, I can get pretty caught up in whatever challenge someone puts in front of me. Whoever thought up the Nintendo Wii is a genius. You swing a remote control the way you would a tennis racquet or a golf club and a ball on a video screen reacts to your swing. I played the Tiger Woods golf game the first day I had it for about two hours. The next day at practice, Bob couldn’t figure out why my right shoulder was sore. By the end of the day he had banished Wii to the same fate as bowling. Okay, I told Bob, maybe I can try the Wii version of bowling. We’re negotiating.

Sadly, a little over a year after losing Gran, I got more bad news about one of my inspirations. Soon after Worlds, I got word that Stevie Hanson’s health was failing. I traveled back to see him, but Stevie had already stopped responding when I went to visit him in the hospital. I sat with Stevie’s family and one by one, we all talked to him, hoping there was some way he could hear us. I held his hand at his bedside and started talking about the time we played basketball at his house and the day we went to the Baltimore Blast soccer game. “Remember that, Stevie?” I said half out loud. “Remember how much fun we had?” I’m sure he did.

I read a poem at his funeral, but I wished I could tell him how much I admired his strength and spirit in the face of challenges. As I neared the home stretch to the Beijing Games, when I was in need of a role model to inspire me to overcome smaller obstacles with a sense of purpose, I could think of Stevie, who overcame bigger obstacles every day. He believed great things were possible and he helped me believe it, too.

I know I’ll carry Stevie’s optimism with me to China, no matter how bold the challenge. When reporters asked Mark Spitz what it would be like if I won seven gold medals in Beijing, he told them: “Second man on the moon.” When they asked what it would be like if I won eight, he responded, “First man on Mars.”

But of course leave it to Bob to grab the article that would set me off like a rocket. Bob was scheming, knowing that somehow he can always count on the Australians to fire me up. He read an article in an Australian paper and was determined not just to show it to me, but to let it get to me. He neatly underlined all the relevant parts of the story he thought I could use for motivation. The article quotes Ian Thorpe, who was asked about my prospects for winning seven or eight gold medals in Beijing. “I don’t think he’ll do it, but I’d love to see it,” Ian says. “There’s a thing called competition. There won’t just be one athlete competing and in a lot of events he has strong competition.”

I then took the article and taped it to my locker. Whenever I look inside the locker each morning after arriving at the pool, the underlined story is the very first thing I see.

If I’m dragging trying to accomplish what I need to do, I think about Gran, about Stevie, and about Ian’s words. Then I train a little harder. I’m grateful for the doubters and believers, and I’m especially grateful for the wonderful family, friends, and supporters of an amazing sport who have given me a chance to turn doubters into believers.