There's just something about the water in Baltimore. Maybe you knew that already, but it's worth repeating. The water here, it enables you to do almost anything. Michael Phelps sprang from these waters. Katie Hoff, too. But the swimming story I hope we'll all be able to appreciate this summer is Philip Scholz's quest to represent the United States in the Paralympics.
Scholz is a freshman at Loyola College. Before I even tell you about what he's able to do in the water, you've got to understand what he has already been through.
Born in Munich, Germany, Scholz moved with his family to Long Island, N.Y., when he was 7. He has been diagnosed with Stickler syndrome, a genetic condition that affects connective tissue, and has endured nearly two dozen surgeries since birth. We're talking everything from his cleft palate to his colon to his ears to his eyes. When he was 6, he lost sight in his left eye. By 15, he lost sight in his right. And at 18, he was sitting across from me at Loyola's Fitness and Aquatic Center last week telling me about how he hopes to compete at the Beijing Paralympics this summer.
"Out on land, if people suddenly feel like running, they can run and not worry too much about things that they see coming. I can't do that, because I can't see that car coming and avoid it," says Scholz, who gets around campus with the aid of Taxi, his 2 1/2 -year-old Labrador retriever. "In the pool, I know where everything is, I can go at my pace, I can go fast. ... I know when the wall is there."
Swimming blind is tricky, but not impossible. Like so many things Scholz encounters, it just requires some modification. Most competitors rely on the black line at the bottom of the pool to swim straight, but Scholz doesn't have that luxury. He also can't see when he's about to approach the wall.
To stay straight, Scholz swims on the far right side of the lane, brushing his hand on the lane divider with each stroke. He has already figured out it takes about 15 strokes for him to swim the 25-yard length of the pool, so once his silent count hits 15, he prepares for his slightly modified flip turn.
He has help for big races. His coaches stand at either end of the pool holding a "tapper" -- a cane with a tennis ball plugged onto one end -- and when Scholz approaches the wall, they tap him on the head.
Simple, right? At least Scholz makes it sound that way. And watching him in the pool, he looks like any other swimmer. Not everyone seems to understand, though.
