At the young age of 6, I joined the summer league swim team – mainly because I just wanted to follow my other brothers who were also involved.
The sport suited my brothers and me since we all had some form of moderate to severe hearing loss. We all grew up with hearing aids and a speech therapist. Thankfully, the sense isn’t crucial to your swimming abilities. When you dive in, your head is in the water, you’re focused on the race and you can’t really change anything at that point. No coach is yelling at you from the sidelines and verbal teammate communication becomes nonexistent.
As for school, we were taught how to communicate efficiently at a very young age. We were encouraged to ask our teachers questions if we missed something and to sit in the first row of the classroom. I went through my bouts in middle school with people who made fun of me and didn’t understand, but I didn’t let it get the best of me because they didn’t know what I could do in a pool – especially since I was quickly becoming a pretty good swimmer.
By the time high school rolled around, thoughts of the Olympics began swimming through my mind, quite literally. Before I graduated high school in 1987, I had already competed on a national team for a couple of years and immediately after high school, I set my first world record. When it came time to compete in the 1988 Olympics, the pressure of swimming on an international scale wasn’t too intimidating, but training full-time was new.
I got up, I trained for two hours in the morning, did some kind of land workout, then took a nap. Then, I would go back in the afternoon to practice more. I did that every day, Monday through Friday. Finally, the Olympics in Seoul came.
Now, when I broke my record in 1987, that record actually got broken five days later in Europe and that athlete was also attending the 1988 Olympics. Our “rivalry” caught the media's attention because I’m hard of hearing and this other swimmer was blind in one eye. So, yeah, we both have these qualities – but we proved we could overcome them and still be the best in the world.
The beauty with swimming is it’s not like my opponent is reaching over into my lane and holding me back. It’s all about your preparation and what you do in your lane. You can’t control anything else. It’s a mental game at that point as far as your competition is concerned.
In the end, my “rival” took home gold and I the silver. At least we proved that you can overcome any challenges.
I was young though, and I knew my Olympic career wasn’t over. I returned the following Summer Olympics in 1992, but unfortunately, I didn’t perform as well. Obviously, competing in the Olympics is still an amazing experience though; being in the Olympic Village, forming friendships, getting to watching the Olympics after I competed, it was all pretty cool.
Even though I’m not a competitive swimmer anymore, swimming is still a huge part of my life.
I coached at The Ohio State University for four years and loved every moment. When you’re coaching, you’re trying to get people to reach their highest potential. So, if you do everything and you listen and you’re coachable, you can walk away with an experience. You may not walk away with an Olympic medal, but if you reach your highest potential with what you put in, then you should be proud.
My longtime coaching track resides in New Albany. I started in 1997 and every moment has been amazing. I translate my experiences into telling students that the amount of work they put into their training will dictate their results. You carry that hard work ethic forward in whatever life stage – whether it’s college or a job or something else. The life lessons I learned along the way is what I try to teach these younger kids.
Dave Wharton is a 1988 Olympic silver medalist for the 400-meter medley. Wharton is the director of New Albany Parks & Recreation and coaches swimming for New Albany-Plain Local Schools.
