I understand those who dismiss Swimwatch as being too negative; too down on swimming in New Zealand. As you would expect I do not agree with their opinion. I think we do have a problem. We have a management who lie to the membership. Remember Steve Johns telling us that the Commonwealth Games team was “up to the challenge”. And when the team only won one bronze medal closed the door of his office in stony silence. Remember when Gary Francis told us his appointment was the dawn of a new era. Remember when social media sites, like NZSwim, cultivated the fiction of the Francis appointment by posting breathless updates of reforms about to be announced. Remember that, as at today, nothing has changed. Everything is the same old, same old, except we now have the additional cost of Gary Francis salary to get the same shoddy product.

The reality of the gulf between New Zealand swimming and world standards was brought home to me last weekend at the North Shore Golden Homes SwimFest Meet. I was sitting with a friend watching the men’s 100 freestyle.

My friend asked me, “Wow, how do they swim so fast?”

I explained that our swimmers do not swim fast. Anywhere else in the world the Auckland winners would not place in good overseas competition. My friend was clearly suspicious. Perhaps David was turning into a grumpy old bugger.

And so I decided to test my theory. In the United States, this weekend, the current round of the TYR Pro Swim Series is being held. The meet is in the historic town of Indianapolis. The last time I was there was for the USA National Championships. It was a good meet for our team with Rhi Jeffrey and John Foster both making finals. But it stood out to me because of events away from the pool.

I was buying breakfast in a café across the road from the pool. Ahead of me in the queue was Michael Phelps. As I stepped forward to pay the cashier said, “Oh I thought you two were together. Mr. Phelps paid for your breakfast.”

I ran after Michael and apologised and offered him the cost of my crumpets. Phelps laughed and said, “Don’t worry about it. Your turn next time.”

Actually not even that was true, because the next morning Phelps was again buying food in the same shop. This time he was several people ahead of me in the queue. When he got to the cashier he turned around, pointed at me and said, “I always pay for his breakfast as well.” And he did.

Anyway back to the TYR Pro Swim Series. I guess you could say the meet is an American version of the Golden Homes SwimFest Meet. I wondered how New Zealand’s national Commonwealth Games team would get on in this American inter-club competition. Was the New Zealand team, as Steve Johns has told us, “up to the challenge” or was the grumpy old bugger right?

The table below shows the best swims of each New Zealand team member at the recent Commonwealth Games. The table then shows the place that time would achieve in the American interclub event. I have excluded 50 metre stroke events from the table because these events are not included in American club meets.

So what are the key results? How would New Zealand’s best swimmers perform in an American club event? Here are the key findings.

1. No one would win a medal of any colour.
2. The best positions would be fourth and three fifth places.
3. The worst placing would be two swims at 32.
4. The average place of the New Zealand national team members in the Indianapolis club event would be 14^th.

Whatever way that result is spun there is a lot of work to do. Our national team is about the equivalent of a mid-table average American Club team. As ironic as this sounds Jerry Olszewski decision to abandon the NZ National coaching job to become an American club coach could very well have been a step up in quality. Steve Johns is not right. We are not up to the challenge. The Gary Francis new dawn is proving to be as elusive as winter daylight at the North Pole.

 The most innocent announcements can have the most profound consequences. One of those announcements happened today when many of us received the following email from Henrietta Latham, the Executive Officer of the New Zealand Swim Coaches and Teachers Association.

The full significance of this announcement might not be immediately appreciated. I’m not referring to the publication of the AGM Minutes. These annual events are normally fairly procedural. In a stable organization like the NZSCTA, the minutes of annual meetings tend to record simple rule changes and the election of officials. The minutes need to be publically available. They always are of course, through the Registrar of Incorporated Societies, but the organization’s decision to support the statutory requirement with its own publication is a welcome step forward.

I also welcome the intention of the NZSCTA to update members with improved news and information and with a calendar of swim-courses. That too is as it should be and is welcome. It is not however unusual, nor does it represent a new open approach to the management of swimming in New Zealand.

But, the promised publication of the NZSCTA Board minutes – now that is revolutionary. Since 2011 the management of swimming has been characterised by secrecy and silence. Mushroom management – feed them manure and keep them in the dark – has been the prevailing business model used to manage New Zealand swimming. The Chairman of Swimming New Zealand, Bruce Cotterill, writes books on management. If his time in swimming means anything his next volume could well be called, “The Benefits of Mushroom Management”. He certainly knows plenty about the subject.

And like obedient puppies the NZSCTA followed the example of the corporate parent. It too became secretive and hidden. Decisions were made behind closed doors and remained in the dark hidden from the rank and file members. In a period when the cleansing property of fresh air was needed the most, NZSCTA and SNZ management told us nothing. Remember when Sutton announced he was going to meet Johns and find out why Hurring and Bouzaid were treated so badly. I guess the meeting took place but we, of course, were never told about the content or the conclusion; silence, secrecy and mystery was all we were given. 2011 to 2018 was a depressing and sad period in New Zealand swimming history.

But it looks like someone at the NZSCTA has decided all that should stop. Board Minutes should be published. The NZSCTA should become a liberal democracy responsible to its members. Management practice should join the 21^st Century. When an organization’s website proclaims that two of its core values are “transparency” and “accountability” it is clearly not right for it to indulge in management practices favoured by the Soviet KGB.

I am certain the change is a good one. The involvement of members will improve. The knowledge of members will increase. The loyalty of members will strengthen. Many years ago Arthur Lydiard said to me, “David, the first rule of coaching is, “Always trust your athletes”. The problem with Cotterill’s secret management style is that it leaves the impression of mistrust – probably because hiding those minutes, making those decisions in secret, keeping information away from the members, is based on deception. The reality is a lack of trust.

But it looks as if, for the NZSCTA, all that is a thing of the past. From 2018 minutes of Board Meetings will be published. Well done the NZSCTA; brilliant. The NZSCTA next job is to bring about the same reform to the Board of Swimming New Zealand. Is anyone taking bets on whether Huckins, Cotterill and Johns will see the light? They should. It is obviously the right thing to do. Cotterill is supposed to be the master guru of capitalist management theory but appears to know little about the principle of shareholder accountability. My guess is that Swimming New Zealand’s reactionary cliché would vote against the abolition of slavery, the enfranchisement of women and the publication of Board minutes. We can only hope that even these Neanderthals will see the reform working well for the coaches and will announce, to a gullible swimming world, that they are going to begin the distribution Board Minutes. And when they do Cotterill will be all over the internet telling the New Zealand management world about this new, liberating and successful corporate tool he has discovered. Just imagine the recognition that will flow from the NZ Institute of Directors on that exciting news.

Normally I don’t write about swim meets; certainly not big city swim meets. They are too slick and too smart. Devoid of heart, lacking personality and hidebound by ridiculous rules your average big city meet is killing the sport. I prefer the country occasions; meets like the Gisborne Hawkes Bay Poverty Bay Championships or the Counties Championships – meets run by real swimming people with chlorine in their blood; meets where the scones are piled high with strawberry jam and whipped cream; meets where swimming tradition is respected.

But it looks like I am going to have to make an exception. This weekend I went, with Eyad, to the North Shore Club’s Golden Homes SwimFest Meet. Certainly that qualifies as a big city meet. Good God, it takes place on the frightfully ostentatious North Shore of Auckland, in a self-important pool known as the National Aquatic Centre and under offices occupied by the pretentious clique that claims to run Swimming New Zealand. It would be difficult to find anything, anywhere as big city as that.

But it just goes to show – never judge a book by its cover. There were many features that gave this meet life; that provided it with tradition; that made it a fun weekend.

First, the competition was good. Many of New Zealand’s best swimmers came to swim. Hunter, Coetzee, Ashby, Lee, Alexander, Garrod, Schroder, Falconer and Doyle were all entered. Meet promoters around the world know that if good athletes are on the card people will come to watch. But if the swimming is rubbish, all the presentation tricks in the book are not going to save the occasion. That’s what is wrong with the Swimming New Zealand Zone Carnival – the best swimmers don’t go and it shows. But on this occasion that was not a problem. The swimming was good. It was enjoyable. It was fun to watch.

Second it was two days of non-stop activity. I bet the North Shore Club organizers wanted their meet to be a slick and polished event. Well, they missed that goal and ended up with something far better. This was a good meet from the old days – two days of constant racing, two days with thousands of swims, two days of good old-fashioned tradition. For a swimming purist, like me, the fact Auckland can still put on an event that preserves this quality does the heart good. Oh, sure the program slipped a half hour, possibly even an hour behind schedule – but who cared; certainly not me or any of the competitors playing down my end of the pool. This meet was not an uncomfortable rayon suit. This was a comfortable, warm jersey made from 12 micron Merino wool.

Third, small things make a difference. For example the North Shore Head Coach, Andy McMillan, was a great host. I guess he must have had a million things to do, but somehow he found the time to ask if I had any problems and invite me to the official’s room for lunch. Because of an appointment at Waitakere Hospital I could not go, but his invitation was appreciated. Those South Islanders sure know how to behave. Thank you Andy.

Fourth the pool is great. It is deep. It is fast. It is well looked after and the staff are delightful. The whole centralised training thing made me a bit suspicious of this pool. However the staff have won me over. It is now the best run pool in the country. I love going there.

And so Eyad and I will be back next year. We like the venue and we like the meet. I do not mean this to be in anyway condescending but as Mohammed Ali once said, North Shore Club “you done splendid”. Please don’t listen to the trendies who will tell you no session should last longer than 20 minutes, or 200 breaststroke races are boring, or you need more spot prizes. By good fortune or good management you have struck upon something that is good and works; something that the trendies would never manage. Stay with your formula and thank-you for a great weekend of swimming.

I’d better end this story by telling you how Eyad swam. The meet was his first race of the 2018 winter season. He has just completed ten weeks of long, reasonably slow aerobic fitness swimming and four weeks of faster, but still long anaerobic training. He has done no speed training so we were not expecting a lot. The table below shows his ranking going into the meet and his final place together with the time he swam. Certainly we are both happy – a good start at a good place to start.

I am no expert in the New Zealand national health service. Since 2000 I’ve been admitted to one hospital or another, seven times, for a variety of problems. The table below shows my hospital visits.

That is not as much experience as some. However it is probably long enough to form an opinion on the service and care. And I’m a fan. The care I received has been first class. When you take into account that the attention cost me nothing and I was cured, the whole thing is beyond remarkable. And it hasn’t just been the basic care. The follow up, the genuine concern, the professional caution and the attention to detail have been above and beyond reproach.

But this post is called Waitakere Hospital for a reason. Waitakere is the jewel in the health service crown. It is so good that I don’t call it a hospital anymore; it is my West Auckland Waitakere Spa.

So why does it stand out?

Well, although it is a hospital located in the busy, growing and occasionally tough west side of Auckland it has preserved a wonderful country hospital feel; warm, rural and friendly. To do that successfully and at the same time observe rigid standards of professionalism cannot be easy. Somehow or another Waitakere has achieved that balance and has maintained the standard for the four years I’ve had contact with the place.

The relaxed country feel of the hospital appears to affect the staff as well. Or perhaps it is the relaxed country feel of the staff that affects the hospital. I don’t know. But it is great when your cardiac specialist takes a minute out of his hospital round to ask how your swim coaching is getting on. Or the Egyptian renal doctor seems happy to spend some time swapping stories about Saudi Arabia. Or a senior clinician asks if you would be a trial patient for three medical students. They make it feel like you are part of a shared experience rather than an item being processed by the health machine.

During one visit I had a Picc Line put into a vein in my arm and guided through to a main vein near my heart. The purpose was to administer antibiotics more directly in an effort to save a badly infected toe. I was naturally a little nervous at the prospect of a plastic tube being lodged close to my heart. I was soon put at ease. Through the entire procedure the surgeon asked me for tips on how to improve his swimming. He had just joined a local fitness group and when he heard I was about to be a patient thought he’d get some coaching advice. It turned out to be a fun and successful hour.

Before they decided to bomb my infected toe with antibiotics there was some discussion about whether the toe should be amputated. The infection was beginning to spread along the sole of my foot and put the foot at risk. I will forever be grateful that the surgeon and the podiatrist decided to give the antibiotics a chance. As the podiatrist said, her job was to save soles (souls). She’d probably used that line a million times but it put me at ease. Oh, and my sole and toe were saved.

Swimming came up on another occasion. I needed a scan on my kidneys. A quietly well-spoken chap began the procedure and asked if I was David Wright, the swim coach. I confirmed that was probably me and we began an interesting conversation about swimming. The radiographer seemed to know quite a bit about the subject. His questions were knowledgeable and relevant. I remember answering one by explaining that for years Lauren Boyle had kept Swimming New Zealand financially afloat. I thought she was being used terribly.

“All right,” said my radiographer, “I’d better come clean. I’m actually Lauren’s partner.” I don’t know whether they are still together but, for what it’s worth, he seemed like a really nice guy and he approved of my kidneys.

I must have been warned about hospital food a thousand times. Let me tell you there is nothing to complain about at the Waitakere Spa. There is a good menu. Tea and coffee are available throughout the day and night and if you get an occasional insulin hypo, like me, you’re rewarded with four delicious cookies and a cup of very nice, sweet tea.

Spending weeks in a hospital brings you into contact with many of the staff; from highly trained specialists, to well-educated doctors, to receptionists, to nurses, to cleaners and food and drink delivery staff. And at Waitakere I have never come across a bad one. The attention of everyone is as good as I’ve had in some pretty expensive hotels. And a bloody sight better than I’ve had in a lot of other hotels around the world. And amazingly they cure you as well.

I had two porters take me for an x-ray today. One had been pushing people, like me, around the hospital for 11 years and the other was a novice of only 7 years. That sort of staff stability, in that sort of job, says a lot about the quality of the Waitakere experience. The 11 year veteran told me he walks about 20,000 steps a day. In 11 years that’s over 25,000 miles or about one circuit of the world. And he was still happy to be there.

I am writing this story and am going to post it on Swimwatch. But if you read it, don’t spread it around too much. The Spa only has 82 beds. I don’t want it overbooked the next time I am fortunate enough to require a visit.

Women are subjected to some terrible decisions; almost always decisions made by men. Nine times out of ten we, I say we because I am male and have the same flaw, have no idea that we are being sexist morons. Women, who smile and say, “Boys will be boys,” do nothing to stop our bad behaviour. Take for example:

1. The decision made by Dick Quax to tear into the track career of the South African, Caster Semenya. Quax callously set about trying to end her running life. As a very good runner himself, Quax should have been aware of the pain that would cause. But perhaps he just didn’t care. Semenya had the good fortune to be born a female with an especially high level of natural testosterone. She is a female with a natural advantage. But, oh no, that’s not okay at all for Quax. Like all good sexist bigots he wanted her banned. Competing in international sport meant all women must comply with his kitchen and bedroom stereotype. Sadly, the Tsar of the international track federation, Sebastian Coe, agrees with Quax and is in the process of trying to have Semenya banned from her best events. Quax and Coe; two bigoted old buggers with reactionary opinions quite happy to impose them on half the world’s population.
2. The decisions made by the Iowa state government to ban abortions for women who are raped or are victims of incest, if the crimes are unreported for 45 and 140 days respectively. Clearly that is a sadly typical American special, made by men with no thought for the horrible difficulty women, who have been raped or are victims of incest, have in reporting the crimes. Operating from a base of male values, they impose callous conditions on the most female of problems. Yet again, bigoted old buggers with reactionary opinions quite happy to impose them on half of Iowa’s population.
3. The decision made by a Saudi dictator to allow women to drive and attend football matches. This is simple sexism in reverse. Some over paid, self-centred, chauvinist pig called Prince Mohammad bin Salman is prepared to allow women to do something or go somewhere that are basic rights in the rest of the world. The Saudi royal family sells this stuff as a liberal step forward. But doing what should have been done a hundred years ago is not liberal anything, especially when the Saudi female population still cannot open a bank account or swim or compete in the Olympic Games or work in paid employment without the approval of a man. The reason Salman and Trump get on so well is clear. On the subject of women they share a common bond.
4. The decision of building-site morons and others to throw sexist abuse at female athletes. I’ve coached a number of very good female runners and everyone has a story of running past a building-site or being passed by a truck and having the line, “Hello luv, doing anything tonight?” yelled at them. The same thing happens to good female swimmers who are challenged to a mini-Olympic competition every day by slower males desperate to avoid being passed by a woman. And in the gym, it’s even worse. Men will frequently instruct women to reduce the weight of an exercise, especially when the women’s lift is heavier than theirs. Even senior coaches indulge in this sexist behaviour. I am forever reading sample schedules that set one level of work for men and a lesser amount for women. Of course that is ridiculous when, in my experience, women can often out-train their male team-mates. Without question the road to the top is harder for women than for men.

Even “good” behaviour can be bad. You see it most dramatically in a country like Saudi Arabia. But the Arabs are not alone. Western countries have their share of well-behaved morons. The text books call it “benevolent sexism”. It refers to condescending protective and “gentlemanly” behaviour. Women are objects to be cared for and looked after. This is the Arab justification for insisting women walk around with only their eyes peeking through layers of black material. But the west is not exempt. It has its versions of burqa culture. There is a deep seated belief that women are weaker and need special protection and love because of that weakness. Protection and love among equals is a good thing. Protection and love based on the male gender’s belief in their dominance is far from that.

Those are examples of the behaviour of males to females that have made the life of athletes; I have coached, more difficult. I call it the “pet syndrome”. Women are little more than pet objects owned by men who want to control every feature of their life; when to play, when to sleep, when to exercise and even when to reproduce. There is frequently little difference between a female partner and a pet Labrador. With the exception of reactionary outposts like Saudi Arabia things are improving. We still however have a distance to go.

The Swimming New Zealand Board, for example, has six members, four men and two women. Why are there twice as many men as women? There is no justification for that; especially when more than 50% of the members are women. That is simply not right. Cotterill, Brown, Tongue and Perry cannot fully represent over 50% of the members. McKee and Tootill can, but are in a disenfranchised voting minority. There are issues in swimming that are particular to women, that they are best able to rule on. At the very least one of the current male members of the Swimming New Zealand Board needs to be replaced by an additional female. But the hope that Dick Quax, Mohammad bin Salman, Sebastian Coe, the Iowa congress or Bruce Cotterill will initiate or approve that sort of change is slim to none.