As I officially end my college athletic career tonight--with our
season-ending banquet--I realize that when I revisit my memories of
Harvard, those rich swimming moments will not be among them.
I will remember meeting Ms. Kincaid, taking a seminar with Professor Gates, eating with housemates in Adams, and perhaps even writing for The Crimson.
The personal sports moments of triumph and defeat, belonging and
alienation, are not lost in a horrible psychic void, but rather they will
emerge when I remember my entire swimming career or specifically swimming at Harvard--but they will not commingle with those images above.
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