Saturday, August 23, 2008

Martin Short image hovers over synchro swimming

BEIJING (AP)—Barred from wearing suits that made them look like waterproof Christmas trees, the Spanish team took a different tack.

Gangsta.

They marched onto the deck at the Water Cube in costumes embroidered with a menacing cartoon character across the front and back, his cap backward and carrying a stick in a threatening manner.

Somewhere, Martin Short is smiling.

This is synchronized swimming, a sport that requires as much strength, stamina and skill as any in Beijing—but still draws snickers from those who believe the gelled-up hair, caked-on makeup and outlandish suits are better suited for a Vegas show than an Olympic pool.

A hilarious “Saturday Night Live” bit from 1984 is usually a convenient starting point for any discussion with the uninformed. Adorned with noseclips, Short and Harry Shearer played brothers who dream of being the first males to compete at the Olympics in synchronized swimming.

Never mind that Short has to wear a lifejacket because “I’m not that strong a swimmer.”

“You would be surprised,” said Andrea Nott, who competes for the United States in both the team and duet events—and, no, she doesn’t wear a flotation device. “That was more than 20 years ago and people still say, ‘Hey, I saw the ‘Saturday Night Live’ skit.”

Her response?

“We do it because we love it and there’s enough satisfaction in it for us,” Nott said. “If some people think it’s dorky, well, they don’t have to watch it.”

Judging from the packed stands at the Water Cube this week, plenty of people enjoy a sport that combines the artistry of a ballet with the athleticism of an acrobat show, all in the water. These are true athletes, practicing up to 10 hours a day, six days a week to coordinate the intricate moves and build up enough lung capacity to perform strenuous underwater techniques, often upside down, while holding their breath.

“There’s something about the breath holding that makes the lactate acid come on a little sooner,” Nott said after a duet routine that lasted nearly four minutes. “By 30 seconds into the piece, we’re burning.”

American coach Tammy McGregor, a gold medalist in Atlanta, said many misconceptions about the sport originate in her own country, even though the U.S. was a powerhouse when synchro swimming was added to the Olympics at the 1984 Los Angeles Games.

Winning gold didn’t reduce the ridicule.

“Our country is very focused on football, basketball and baseball,” McGregor said. “When we go to Japan, people go nuts for synchro. A venue like this one here would be sold out wall-to-wall for the world championships. When we go to Europe, it’s the same way. It’s really only the Americas” where people seem hung up on the is-it-a-sport-or-not debate.

There have been tasteless jokes: If one member of the duet team drowns, does the other one have to drown, too?

And the derision shows no sign of stopping. Disney reportedly has a comedy in development entitled “Synchronicity,” the story of (stop us if you’ve heard this one before) two guys who are synchronized swimmers.

Before every competition, synchro swimmers wet their hair, pull it back in a tight bun using old-fashioned bobby pins, then apply a gel to remove any chance of it getting in their face during the routine. It goes on as a warm, thick paste and hardens while drying, which leaves the hair shining like a car just off the assembly line. They say it can be washed out with very hot water, but a chisel might work better.

There’s no skimping on the makeup, either. Apparently, one must look like a Kabuki performer to attract the notice of the judges; the garish blue eye shadow might be a little excessive even for a lady of the night.

Then there’s the routines. Nott and her duet partner, Christina Jones, went with the theme “metamorphosis,” accompanied by music from Mozart’s “Lacrimosa.” A giant butterfly was emblazoned across their chests.

“We were showing the whole part,” Jones said. “The playful part, the death and then the rebirth at the end. We were trying to show every kind of emotion.”

McGregor, who studied fashion in college, designs most of the suits worn by the Americans.

“It needs to communicate what you’re doing,” she said. “It needs to be visible from very far away. There can’t be a lot of stuff on it. Just one idea that’s really big. It also depends on whether you’re indoors or outdoors. You sparkle a whole lot more outdoors than indoors.”

With the Olympics being held inside, the Spaniards came up with a novel way to stand out. They developed a suit embedded with waterproof lights, figuring it’s just the next step in a sport where sequins are almost mandatory. Alas, the governing body of swimming ruled the luminaries were a violation of the rule against using extra props.

But apparently, there is no rule against invoking rap culture in the pool.

There are other issues. Much like figure skating, the scoring sometimes seems to be preordained, removing much of the drama. The Russians won gold in duet and no one believes they won’t do the same in Saturday’s team final.

“It’s hard not to get upset about things you can’t control,” Nott said.

Another thing. For some reason, every performance begins with the pair or team marching onto the specially built deck with an exaggerated waggle, throwing themselves around as though they were playing a game of Twister, then turning to the judges with a freeze-frame smile before they dive in.

“It’s really just setting you up,” McGregor said. “It’s that first impression. If you didn’t have the most amazing deck pose, I don’t think that would really make a difference. But a lot of times, you’re setting up a theme or a mood, while showing some flexibility or strength. It’s just a bonus deal.”

On the other hand, synchronized swimming should look no more out of place at the Olympics than rhythmic gymnastics, where competitors prance around the mat using clubs, hoops, balls, ribbon and rope. Or race walking, which is sort of like letting those who can’t swim very well compete in the dog paddle.

And we haven’t even mentioned figure skating, which takes Winter Olympic fashion to new lows and revels in having a kiss-and-cry area for over-dramatic performers to receive their scores.

No one can deny that synchronized swimmers are bona fide athletes. Anyone who has seen the sport up close and studied the moves on underwater cameras realizes that it takes astonishing skill to pull off what is essentially a ballet without a leg to stand on.

Remember, no touching the bottom.

“There is art in this sport,” Russia’s Anastasia Davydova said after winning gold in the duet. “We perform to music, and if you have music you have art. But today all my muscles ached, were completely numb—except for the ones in my brain—so I don’t know how they could kick us out of the Olympics.”

Her partner, Anastasia Ermakova, agreed.

“At the last Olympics, when (Davydova) was undergoing a doping test, someone said, ‘But why would you need doping for synchro?’” she said. “I don’t think people understand how hard it is to do what we do. They should be put underwater to see how hard it is.”

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