Water Sports

by Kevin Cody
At the end of the summer an evening demonstration was held for the parents.
It was cold, gray, windy and getting dark. Ugly, overhead surf pounded the shore.
We shivered shirtless in our Spartan red trunks with the JG patches sewn on by our moms. If I had been the parent of one of those 10-year-old JGs I’d have yanked him off the beach.
Rudy yelled run. We ran. He yelled buoy swim. We swam through the surf to the orange buoys that bobbed in and out of sight off the end of the pier. He yelled rescue and we dolphined out through the surf dragging our red rescue cans. We strapped the rubber cans around our theatrically flailing partners and towed them back toward shore. When we reached the impact zone we pushed our victims over the falls to mess with them and scare their parents.