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HOLIDAY WISHES AND A HOLIDAY POEM



HOLIDAY WISHES

Senior Prep, Junior Gold and Junior Blue swimmers and parents

I would like to take a moment and wish all of you a joyous holiday season, and a very Happy 2014.  Thank you for all the thoughtful cards and gifts that you brought in over the past few days.  I am truly blessed to be able to work with such a wonderful group of children and parents.  Thank you for all the support that you have given to Mason Makos and me all through the year.   Mike
                                                             


Twas the night before Swimming”

When all through the building not a swimmer was stirring, not even a guard, the scoreboard was hung by the pool with care, in hopes that the Mako swimmers would soon be there.  The swimmers were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of medals danced in their heads; and mamma in her kerchief, and dad in his cap, had just settled in for a long winter nap; when out on the deck there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.  Away to the door I flew like a flash, threw open the door, when, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny swimmers, with a little old driver so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be a coach.  More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, and he whistled and shouted and called them by name: Now Phelps! now Lochte! now Missy and Katie!  On, Ziegler! on, Hardy! on Beisel and Jones!  Out of the pool, and to the deck, now, dash away! dash away! dash away all!  As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, so up to the roof they flew, with the sleigh full of awards, and coach.  And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof the prancing and pawing of each little fin.  As I drew in my head, and was turning around, down the steps coach came with a bound.  He was dressed in sweats from his head to his foot, and his clothes tarnished with chlorine and soot; a bundle of awards flung on his back, and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.  His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples—how merry!  His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry.  His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow.  The stump of a whistle he held tight in his teeth, and the noise it rang in my ears.  He had a broad face and a little round belly that shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.  He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old coach, and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.  A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon gave me to know  had nothing to dread.  He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the team bags; then turned with a jerk, and laying his finger aside his nose, and giving a nod, up the steps he rose.  He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all went.  But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, 

“Fast Swimming
To all, and to all
A Good Night”
                        

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