Olympic
events covered most of the television displays in a Downtown
Caribbean restaurant. The patrons at the restaurant belonged to
diverse cultures. All eyes were fixed on the television sets. Some
people cheered their country of origin, while the rest of us hoped US
athletes to win medals. Some diners were watching straight up, while
few others had their seats turned backwards. One gentleman wearing
Chicago Cubs hat was engaged in watching the swimming event. Unaware
that he had dipped his appetizer in mustard sauce. The piece on his
fork reached his lips slowly. He opened his mouth. The piece wrapped
in mustard dropped in the darkness of his mouth. He chewed once, and
then stopped as Michael Phelps barely qualified in the heat. His
countenance showed a sign of relief. He chewed the piece of food
again. The scent of mustard hit his tongue. He dropped his head one
eighty degrees down to verify what did he put in his mouth. Clearly,
mustard sauce was not his favorite. The sweat rolled down his face as
he rushed to the Mens room.
The bartender serving me at the bar was from Jamaica. He called him self Paul.
“Jay, people find it very difficult to pronounce my name – so I have shortened it to Paul,” he reasoned in Jamaican accent.
However, he was not happy with the swimmers. No matter, who won – whether the swimmers broke World Record or established an Olympic record, he was still dissatisfied. Naturally, I questioned him.
“Jay, Dis (This) is not swimming. My son used to swim with perfection. Dey (They) swim as if it were bery (very) hard work. Look at dem (them)...(as both of us bended our neck sideways to the television screen)...dis (this) swimming lacks speed...dis (this) is slow...” and he kept repeating the last line.
I was interested in learning about his son. Certainly a father who has so much confidence in his son needed more introduction. My phone buzzed. I had received a text message as I checked my phone.
“She is not coming?” Paul guessed.
I nodded positively. I explained to him that my possible date forgot that her best friend was moving to Chicago, so she needed to help her out.
“Are you still going to wait for her?” asked Paul candidly.
I told him that since I was already there (at the restaurant), I would rather be interested in learning more about his son. His eyes brightened at the mention of his son. He poured some wine in my glass, even though I refrained from alcohol.
“Jay, when my son was young, he liked jumping in the water. I did not notice his talent. One day a customer came to my shop looking for a special type of sea shell. I owned a sea shell shop at the beach. I asked my son to fetch one from the ocean, but he was busy playing with the street kids. He did not listen. I promised him that if he could get me the sea shell, I would reward him five dollars. Jay, during those days five dollars could get an abundance of toys for a kid. My son returned in few minutes with a sea shell. I was surprised. It should have taken him at least fifteen minutes. Even though, the ocean was behind our shop, but to swim to the low lying ocean bed and come back up – a kid should take at least fifteen minutes. But, he came back in five minutes. That is when I realized he could swim fast,” narrated Paul.
He attended another customer, who was fixated at the volley ball score.
Paul walked back to me, “...I entered my son for a swimming event on a weekend. He refused to participate. Jay, I forced him to swim. He came last. I was confused. I asked him why did he not swim fast. He said that he was not getting five dollars. I promised him another five dollars. So, my son, very clever, immediately committed to race. This time he won a Gold Medal. I was so proud, Jay! I was so proud...” his eyes moistened.
Paul started to pour wine, when I signaled him for no more. He realized and started laughing. He brought me a fresh glass filled with grape juice. Although, I was reluctant to drink as it appeared same as wine.
He continued, “...Jay, our family celebrated his win. My wife's parents came. My parents came. My brother's family came. My sister's family came. We had a big party at our house. We all drank Bacardi. After all, my son was the first gold medalist in the family. Next morning, I said to my self that I did not want my son to swim for just a prize. I wanted him to be the fastest - period – whether there was a prize or not. I decided to train him harder for the Olympics.”
A couple filled up two seats at the other end of the bar. Paul attended to them, but he eagerly returned to my seat for his story.
“Jay, I took my son to the ocean. I asked him to jump and start swimming. The boy did not listen to me. He started playing with the fishing net. I asked him again to jump and start swimming. He refused. So, I threw him in the water. He swam lazily and returned to the boat. I told my son that he was not fast enough. I told my son that he had to become the best. He said to me that there was no excitement so he swam slow. I promised him that there will be excitement. He asked me what type of excitement. I said jump and then I will show him. So, he jumped. I immediately drifted my boat away from him. Boy did not swim. Jay can you believe that! He remained floating at one place. I signaled him to swim. But, he refused. I shouted look back. He looked back. Two sharks were chasing towards him. Jay, that was it! He swam so fast that I could not believe my eyes. That boy had fins for his legs. Since then, every day I would throw him in the ocean. Sharks would chase my son. He would out-swim the sharks. Gradually, he started swimming faster and faster,” added Paul.
I was amazed by the extreme training measure of a father. I imagined his son should be a medalist.
“Jay! That did not happen. Jamaica selectors did not select my son...” replied Paul dejected.
“Why?”
“During the trials, I requested the selectors to make amendments to the swimming location. Either add small sharks in the swimming pool or organize the trials in the ocean. They did neither. My son needed sharks to swim faster,” answered Paul.
I felt sorry for him. He remarked that is the story of his life. I wanted to know where his son was now.
“Jay, he is training my grandson back in Jamaica. I am working here sending them the money so that he can focus on my grandson's training,” said Paul.
I congratulated him on having a talented grandson. I wondered if he too will swim as fast as his dad.
“Jay, No my grand son has been training for track and field. He is a runner. In the next Olympics, you should see my grandson - a young star from Jamaica!”
I congratulated him again. I assumed that his grand son should find it easy to enter for the trials. Selectors in Jamaica do not need to render his abrupt requests of sharks anymore.
“Yes Jay, it should not be a problem for selectors.”
I asked Paul how has been the progress of the training.
“My son has been training my grandson by having stray-wild dogs chase him...”
The bartender serving me at the bar was from Jamaica. He called him self Paul.
“Jay, people find it very difficult to pronounce my name – so I have shortened it to Paul,” he reasoned in Jamaican accent.
However, he was not happy with the swimmers. No matter, who won – whether the swimmers broke World Record or established an Olympic record, he was still dissatisfied. Naturally, I questioned him.
“Jay, Dis (This) is not swimming. My son used to swim with perfection. Dey (They) swim as if it were bery (very) hard work. Look at dem (them)...(as both of us bended our neck sideways to the television screen)...dis (this) swimming lacks speed...dis (this) is slow...” and he kept repeating the last line.
I was interested in learning about his son. Certainly a father who has so much confidence in his son needed more introduction. My phone buzzed. I had received a text message as I checked my phone.
“She is not coming?” Paul guessed.
I nodded positively. I explained to him that my possible date forgot that her best friend was moving to Chicago, so she needed to help her out.
“Are you still going to wait for her?” asked Paul candidly.
I told him that since I was already there (at the restaurant), I would rather be interested in learning more about his son. His eyes brightened at the mention of his son. He poured some wine in my glass, even though I refrained from alcohol.
“Jay, when my son was young, he liked jumping in the water. I did not notice his talent. One day a customer came to my shop looking for a special type of sea shell. I owned a sea shell shop at the beach. I asked my son to fetch one from the ocean, but he was busy playing with the street kids. He did not listen. I promised him that if he could get me the sea shell, I would reward him five dollars. Jay, during those days five dollars could get an abundance of toys for a kid. My son returned in few minutes with a sea shell. I was surprised. It should have taken him at least fifteen minutes. Even though, the ocean was behind our shop, but to swim to the low lying ocean bed and come back up – a kid should take at least fifteen minutes. But, he came back in five minutes. That is when I realized he could swim fast,” narrated Paul.
He attended another customer, who was fixated at the volley ball score.
Paul walked back to me, “...I entered my son for a swimming event on a weekend. He refused to participate. Jay, I forced him to swim. He came last. I was confused. I asked him why did he not swim fast. He said that he was not getting five dollars. I promised him another five dollars. So, my son, very clever, immediately committed to race. This time he won a Gold Medal. I was so proud, Jay! I was so proud...” his eyes moistened.
Paul started to pour wine, when I signaled him for no more. He realized and started laughing. He brought me a fresh glass filled with grape juice. Although, I was reluctant to drink as it appeared same as wine.
He continued, “...Jay, our family celebrated his win. My wife's parents came. My parents came. My brother's family came. My sister's family came. We had a big party at our house. We all drank Bacardi. After all, my son was the first gold medalist in the family. Next morning, I said to my self that I did not want my son to swim for just a prize. I wanted him to be the fastest - period – whether there was a prize or not. I decided to train him harder for the Olympics.”
A couple filled up two seats at the other end of the bar. Paul attended to them, but he eagerly returned to my seat for his story.
“Jay, I took my son to the ocean. I asked him to jump and start swimming. The boy did not listen to me. He started playing with the fishing net. I asked him again to jump and start swimming. He refused. So, I threw him in the water. He swam lazily and returned to the boat. I told my son that he was not fast enough. I told my son that he had to become the best. He said to me that there was no excitement so he swam slow. I promised him that there will be excitement. He asked me what type of excitement. I said jump and then I will show him. So, he jumped. I immediately drifted my boat away from him. Boy did not swim. Jay can you believe that! He remained floating at one place. I signaled him to swim. But, he refused. I shouted look back. He looked back. Two sharks were chasing towards him. Jay, that was it! He swam so fast that I could not believe my eyes. That boy had fins for his legs. Since then, every day I would throw him in the ocean. Sharks would chase my son. He would out-swim the sharks. Gradually, he started swimming faster and faster,” added Paul.
I was amazed by the extreme training measure of a father. I imagined his son should be a medalist.
“Jay! That did not happen. Jamaica selectors did not select my son...” replied Paul dejected.
“Why?”
“During the trials, I requested the selectors to make amendments to the swimming location. Either add small sharks in the swimming pool or organize the trials in the ocean. They did neither. My son needed sharks to swim faster,” answered Paul.
I felt sorry for him. He remarked that is the story of his life. I wanted to know where his son was now.
“Jay, he is training my grandson back in Jamaica. I am working here sending them the money so that he can focus on my grandson's training,” said Paul.
I congratulated him on having a talented grandson. I wondered if he too will swim as fast as his dad.
“Jay, No my grand son has been training for track and field. He is a runner. In the next Olympics, you should see my grandson - a young star from Jamaica!”
I congratulated him again. I assumed that his grand son should find it easy to enter for the trials. Selectors in Jamaica do not need to render his abrupt requests of sharks anymore.
“Yes Jay, it should not be a problem for selectors.”
I asked Paul how has been the progress of the training.
“My son has been training my grandson by having stray-wild dogs chase him...”
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