Well I warned you guys at the beginning of the year that you would hear quite a lot about swimming, and here my words are going to come true. This last Friday and Saturday I participated in the UV Rays Heart Attack Invitational. This meet is a meet that happens once a year at roughly the same time. It takes place clear down in Provo at the Provo High School Swimming Pool. It normally tends to be a slightly large meet, bringing in about 100 swimmers. (I think) This meet, unlike ones I have been swimming recently, is a U.S.S. meet- meaning United States Swimming. This is a national organization that I swim for, for the majority of the year.
But anyways, this meet being a U.S.S. sanctioned swimming meet brings in swimmers that are much, much younger but that doesn’t mean that it is any less competitive. But anyways- I didn’t do too badly at the meet but just the same I kind of bombed it. Oh well, but here is kind of a fun poem that I found that really seems to apply.
A competitive sport Backstroke, Breaststroke, Butterfly, and Freestyle Cool water Dual meets Effort counts Fun times with friends Go go go High powered attitude I love swimming Jogging a mile before practice Kick all the way Learn to swim fast Morning, noon, and night Nothing can stop you now Off the block when they say go Plop into the pool Quitting.... I don't think so Rest after the race Swim at your all Try your best U can do it Very cool Wet wet wet X-ellent You are doing great Zig zag through the pool
One thing that you might have really notice in this poem is that it talks a lot about not giving up, and just pushing through the pain. In a way I think that swimming is as much of a competitive sport as well as a mental sport. But then again that is the way with many sports, such as snowboarding, tennis, skiing, and many more. (Let me know if I missed your sport and it made you feel bad… I’ll add you in!) With all these sports it takes practice just telling yourself that you CAN do it, and you can do it without giving up. Here is another one that kind of ties into the last.
ExertionThe signal is made, a harsh, jarring sound.Instinctively the athletes alight from the ground.Lunging from their positions, they begin their descent,understanding quickly what 'exertion' always meant.In their seperate lanes they sprint with all their might,persevering harder as the end comes in sight.They near the finish, their energy nearly spent.They understand quickly what 'exertion' always meant.One flies toward the touchpad, the others in their wake.The crowd becomes frantic as they realize what's at stake.On reaching their goals the swimmers focus their intentunderstanding quickly what 'exertion' always meant.
-Anonymous
This poem not only applies to swimming but also to all the other sports as well. So next time you’re training or just playing around, think what your sport really means to you.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
I bet you can't guess...
Well I am sure that you all could have guessed it, but, it has returned, Patriotism. I have already done two other blogs on this subject but I feel like I can keep going, so, I have another little thing for you, well actually a couple.
Mike’s Flag
You have probably seen the bumper sticker somewhere along the road. It depicts an American flag, accompanied by the words “These Colors Don’t Run.” I’m always glad to see this, because it reminds me of an incident from my confinement in North Vietnam at the Hoa Lo P.O.W. camp, or the Hanoi Hilton, as it became known. Then a major in the U.S. Air Force, I had been captured and imprisoned from 1967 to 1973.
Our treatment had been frequently brutal. After three years, however, the beatings and tortures became less frequent. During the last year, we were allowed outside most days for a couple of minutes to bathe. We showered by drawing water from a concrete tank with a home made bucket.
One day as we all stood by the tank, stripped of our clothes; a young naval pilot named Mike Campbell found the remnants of a handkerchief in a gutter that ran under the prison wall. Mike managed to sneak the grimy rag into our cell and began fashioning it into a flag. Over time we all loaned him a little scrap, and he spent days cleaning the material. We helped by scrounging and stealing bits and pieces of anything he could use.
At night, under his mosquito net, Mike worked on the flag. He made red and blue from the ground-up roof tiles and tiny amounts of ink. And painted the colors onto the cloth with watery rice glue, using thread from one blanket and a home-made bamboo needle, he sewed on stars.
Early in the morning a few days later-when the guards were not alert- he whispered loudly from the back of our cell, “Hey gang, look here.” He proudly held up his tattered piece of cloth, waving it as if it were in a breeze.
If you used your imagination, you could tell it was supposed to be an American flag. When he raised that smudgy fabric, we automatically stood straight and saluted, our chests puffing out, and more than a few eyes had tears.
About once a week the guards would strip us, run us outside and go through our clothing. During one of these shakedowns, they found Mike’s flag. We all knew what would happen.
That night they came for him. Night interrogations were always the worst. They opened the cell door and pulled Mike out. We could hear the beginning of the torture before they even had him in the torture cell. They beat him most of the night. About daylight they pushed what was left of him back through the cell door. He was badly broken, even his voice was gone.
Within two weeks, despite the danger, Mike scrounged another peace of cloth and began another flag. The Stars and Stripes, our national symbol, was worth the sacrifice to him.
Now, whenever I see the flag, I think of Mike and the morning he first waved that tattered emblem of a nation. It was then, thousands of miles from home in a lonely prison cell, that he showed us what it is to be truly free.
So have you noticed how the flag keeps popping up in the subject of Patriotism? This story just goes to prove, that when you honor the flag, you’re not only honoring our country, you’re honoring the people who have served it.
Mike’s Flag
You have probably seen the bumper sticker somewhere along the road. It depicts an American flag, accompanied by the words “These Colors Don’t Run.” I’m always glad to see this, because it reminds me of an incident from my confinement in North Vietnam at the Hoa Lo P.O.W. camp, or the Hanoi Hilton, as it became known. Then a major in the U.S. Air Force, I had been captured and imprisoned from 1967 to 1973.
Our treatment had been frequently brutal. After three years, however, the beatings and tortures became less frequent. During the last year, we were allowed outside most days for a couple of minutes to bathe. We showered by drawing water from a concrete tank with a home made bucket.
One day as we all stood by the tank, stripped of our clothes; a young naval pilot named Mike Campbell found the remnants of a handkerchief in a gutter that ran under the prison wall. Mike managed to sneak the grimy rag into our cell and began fashioning it into a flag. Over time we all loaned him a little scrap, and he spent days cleaning the material. We helped by scrounging and stealing bits and pieces of anything he could use.
At night, under his mosquito net, Mike worked on the flag. He made red and blue from the ground-up roof tiles and tiny amounts of ink. And painted the colors onto the cloth with watery rice glue, using thread from one blanket and a home-made bamboo needle, he sewed on stars.
Early in the morning a few days later-when the guards were not alert- he whispered loudly from the back of our cell, “Hey gang, look here.” He proudly held up his tattered piece of cloth, waving it as if it were in a breeze.
If you used your imagination, you could tell it was supposed to be an American flag. When he raised that smudgy fabric, we automatically stood straight and saluted, our chests puffing out, and more than a few eyes had tears.
About once a week the guards would strip us, run us outside and go through our clothing. During one of these shakedowns, they found Mike’s flag. We all knew what would happen.
That night they came for him. Night interrogations were always the worst. They opened the cell door and pulled Mike out. We could hear the beginning of the torture before they even had him in the torture cell. They beat him most of the night. About daylight they pushed what was left of him back through the cell door. He was badly broken, even his voice was gone.
Within two weeks, despite the danger, Mike scrounged another peace of cloth and began another flag. The Stars and Stripes, our national symbol, was worth the sacrifice to him.
Now, whenever I see the flag, I think of Mike and the morning he first waved that tattered emblem of a nation. It was then, thousands of miles from home in a lonely prison cell, that he showed us what it is to be truly free.
So have you noticed how the flag keeps popping up in the subject of Patriotism? This story just goes to prove, that when you honor the flag, you’re not only honoring our country, you’re honoring the people who have served it.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Return To... Patriotism!!
Well I don’t know how many of you read the post that was titled “Finally Done with My Eagle!”, or something along those lines… But anywise it really wasn’t that much about my eagle but more about our country and some cool stories or facts about it. I decided to continue on about my passion for this country and I have some more things that I have found and typed up all nice and pretty for you guys. This one just might be my favorite poems of all time.
Ragged Old Flag
I walked through a County Court House Square,
On a park bench an old man was sittin there,
I said, “Your Old Court House is kind of run down”,
He said, “Naw, it will do for our little town.”
I said “the old flag pole is leaned a little bit and that’s
A ragged old flag ya got hangin on it.”
He said “Have a seat” and I sat down
“Is this the first time you’ve been to our little town?”
I said “I think it is”. He said “I don’t like to brag
But we’re kind of proud of that ragged old flag”
You see we got a hole in that flag there
When Washington took it across the Delaware,
And it got powder burns the night that Francis Scott Key
Sat watchin it, writtin, “Say Can You See”.
And it got a bad rip in New Orleans with Packingham
And Jackson tuggin at its seams
And it almost fell at the Alamo
Besides the Texas flag but she waved through.
She got cut with a sword at Chanslorsville and
She got cut again at Shiloh Hill.
There was Robert E. Lee, Pooterguard and Bragg
And the South wind blew hard on that ragged flag.
On Flanders Field in World war I
She got a big hole from a bertha gun.
She turned blood red in World War II
She hung limp, and low, a time or two.
She was in Korea and Viet NAM
She went where she was sent by Uncle Sam.
She waved from the ships upon the briny foam
How they’ve about quit waving her back here at home.
In her own good land here she’s been abused
She’s been burned, dishonored, denied and refused.
And the government for which she stands
Is scandalized throughout the land
And she’s getting thread bear and she’s wearin thin.
But she’s in good shape for the shape she’s in.
Cause she’s been through the fire before and I
Believe she can take a whole lot more.
So we raise her up every morning
And take her down every night.
We don’t let her touch the ground
And we fold her up right.
On second thought, I do like to brag
Cause I’m mighty proud of the ragged old flag
So I guess what I am trying to say to every body is always respect the flag guys. You may think that it is just a piece of cloth standing for a group of states. But always remember what it stands for, and who it stands for.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Block Schedule!
This is just an essay on why I think that Junior High Schools should have block schedules. What do you think?
Ding! Ding! Ding! What? Class can’t be over, we haven’t finished yet! Many teachers complain about running out of time for class. There are also teachers who complain that they could fit more of the curriculum into their classes that would benefit the students. Some students claim that they could accomplish more in a class period such as clothing or shop. But at the same time many students complain that 50 minutes is too long for class and they need to be shortened. But if you look at it Junior High schools need to have eight classes, four classes per day in a block schedule.
Many teachers complain about not having enough time to finish all that they had planned. If we were to have A and B days our class period would be longer, possibly over an hour. Mrs. Money at Fairfield Junior High School agrees saying, “With only four changes between classes only 20 minutes is used by students being in the hall, the rest can be incorporated into classroom instruction. Also, with an hour and a half to teach concepts can be thoroughly covered and practiced during class with the teacher’s support.” This could also benefit the students as well in classes other than core. Having classes over an hour long would make classes such as shop, or clothing easier as we would get to work on projects longer, that way you wouldn’t have to rush. But just having more time wouldn’t be the only benefit from the block schedule.
If we had a block schedule we could have one more class per semester. Having eight classes per semester instead of seven would make it easier for students to graduate from high school. Or at the same time it could please the school board to a great extent. If we had more classes our graduation requirements could be slightly raised giving us a better education. This would enable students to achieve a better education, and be better prepared for the real world. But this change could even possibly open more things for students.
If we had two more classes per semester we could possibly take a wider variety of classes. We could possibly take more classes such as auto- mechanics, or ceramics, which are less common in Junior High Schools. This might spark something with some students that don’t do well in classes that the Junior high already has available, this might help to raise the students overall GPA. All in all there is a lot of evidence supporting this, although only some is listed here.
I hope that this has helped to support that Junior High Schools need to have eight classes per semester in a Block Schedule. This would benefit the teachers in educating us students. It would also help students to graduate from High School faster. It would also keep kids more interested in school if they could take more classes. So what would you do, don’t you think that overall the consequences would all be positive?
The Joys of The Block Schedule
Ding! Ding! Ding! What? Class can’t be over, we haven’t finished yet! Many teachers complain about running out of time for class. There are also teachers who complain that they could fit more of the curriculum into their classes that would benefit the students. Some students claim that they could accomplish more in a class period such as clothing or shop. But at the same time many students complain that 50 minutes is too long for class and they need to be shortened. But if you look at it Junior High schools need to have eight classes, four classes per day in a block schedule.
Many teachers complain about not having enough time to finish all that they had planned. If we were to have A and B days our class period would be longer, possibly over an hour. Mrs. Money at Fairfield Junior High School agrees saying, “With only four changes between classes only 20 minutes is used by students being in the hall, the rest can be incorporated into classroom instruction. Also, with an hour and a half to teach concepts can be thoroughly covered and practiced during class with the teacher’s support.” This could also benefit the students as well in classes other than core. Having classes over an hour long would make classes such as shop, or clothing easier as we would get to work on projects longer, that way you wouldn’t have to rush. But just having more time wouldn’t be the only benefit from the block schedule.
If we had a block schedule we could have one more class per semester. Having eight classes per semester instead of seven would make it easier for students to graduate from high school. Or at the same time it could please the school board to a great extent. If we had more classes our graduation requirements could be slightly raised giving us a better education. This would enable students to achieve a better education, and be better prepared for the real world. But this change could even possibly open more things for students.
If we had two more classes per semester we could possibly take a wider variety of classes. We could possibly take more classes such as auto- mechanics, or ceramics, which are less common in Junior High Schools. This might spark something with some students that don’t do well in classes that the Junior high already has available, this might help to raise the students overall GPA. All in all there is a lot of evidence supporting this, although only some is listed here.
I hope that this has helped to support that Junior High Schools need to have eight classes per semester in a Block Schedule. This would benefit the teachers in educating us students. It would also help students to graduate from High School faster. It would also keep kids more interested in school if they could take more classes. So what would you do, don’t you think that overall the consequences would all be positive?
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