So in the end, Michael Phelps didn’t make the final of the 50 free in the Arena Grand Prix in Mesa, Ariz. (He swam his patented butterfly stroke in the prelims. The rules allow you to swim any of the strokes in the free.) And Ryan Lochte bowed out of his final races. (He’s been nursing a knee injury and said he had pushed himself too hard in February.)
But having them back racing each other is certainly a boon for their sport despite the emergence of some young swimmers.
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Is it any surprise that the Arena Grand Prix – which takes place Thursday, April 24 through Saturday, April 26 in Mesa, Ariz. – is sold out? Michael Phelps is swimming in his first meet since the London Games in what looks like the beginning of the comeback trail and may face off with pal and rival Ryan Lochte in the 100 butterfly and 100 freestyle. Michael is also swimming in the 50 free while Ryan is entered in the 200 free, the 100 and 200 backstroke and the 200 individual medley.
There are a lot of other stars at the meet – including Nathan Adrian, Conor Dwyer and France’s Yannick Angel – but all eyes will be on Michael and, to a certain extent, the old rivalry.
For his part, Ryan has said he always knew Michael would be back.
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Was it sacrilegious – not to mention completely shallow – of me that I bought “The Bible” miniseries for the hunky guy who plays Jesus?
The series itself – from Roma “Touched by an Angel” Downey and her hubby, “Survivor” impresario Mark Burnett – isn’t very good, concentrating too much on the dreary dutifulness of religion rather than the joy it can bring. Which is, I think, part of Jesus’ message.
The actor who plays Jesus in “The Bible” and the subsequent Downey-Burnett collaboration “Son of God” – Portugal’s Diogo Morgado – is one of a long line of beautiful Jesuses. Think of Jim Caviezel in “The Passion of the Christ.” (The moment I saw him in “The Thin Red Line” as the otherworldly Christ figure Witt, I knew he’d make an excellent Jesus.) Or Robert Powell, my favorite, in Franco Zeffirelli’s “Jesus of Nazareth.” Jeffrey Hunter’s blue eyes were so dreamy in “King of Kings” that some critics dubbed the film “I Was A Teenage Jesus.”
Sure, there have been stern-looking Jesuses (a miscast Max von Sydow in “The Greatest Story Ever Told”) and even commonplace Jesuses. (Dennis Potter’s “Son of Man,” with stocky, course-looking Colin Blakely in the title role, was lambasted for making Jesus ordinary, even homely, when it aired on British TV in 1969.)
But these are the exceptions that prove the rule: Jesus must be gorgeous.
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Michael Phelps in 2010. Courtesy the Michael Phelps Foundation.
The unsurprising un-retirement of Michael Phelps – who’ll compete April 24-26 at the Arena Grand Prix in Mesa, Ariz. – has set off a spate of he-was-too-young-and-too-passionate-about-swimming-to-retire-anyway columns.
“If Roger Federer can play on quite respectably at age 32, why can’t Phelps head to a fifth Olympics at age 31 and try to add a medal or two (or more) to his uniquely large collection of 22, including 18 gold?” Christopher Clarey wrote in his “Why Not?” column.
Surely, Ryan Lochte – Phelps’ great friend and rival – isn’t throwing in the towel, even though he’ll be 32 in 2016. But why not compete? Why not do what you love as long as you want to do it? (That’s what Daniel Reiner-Kahn, one of the swimmers at the heart of my new novel “Water Music,” thinks when his father wonders what he’s going to be doing with the rest of his life. As far as Daniel is concerned, he has a career. He swims.)
I suspect , however, that the columnists are not just talking about Phelps or Federer. Athletes have always been poignant metaphors for ourselves.
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He’s ba-ack.
Did you seriously think he’d be going away?
It looks more and more like Michael Phelps plans on swimming at the 2016 Olympics in Rio de Janiero.
Training five times a week – check. Jumping into the drug-testing pool – check. Eyeing a swim at Irvine, Calif., site of the summer U.S. championships – check. Longtime Coach Bob Bowman noting that he’s looking good – check, check and check.
Look, no sooner had Michael announced his retirement at the London Games than Ryan Lochte was saying we hadn’t seen the last of him. And Ryan would know. They’re not merely rivals. They’re very close friends.
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After his 6-3, 6-3, 83-minute drubbing by Novak Djokovic in the March 30 Sony Open final in Key Biscayne, Fla., Rafael Nadal was asked a perfectly existential question: Is he glad Nole exists?
“No,” he said. Laughter all around. That Rafa, what a kidder. Then he added, “I like challenges, but I am not stupid.”
Nole had a Descartian “I play Roger Federer and Rafa, therefore I am” answer to the same question:
“I think challenges, big challenges that I had in my career changed me in a positive way as a player. Because of Rafa and because of Roger, I am what I am today in a way.”
Welcome to Rafanole XL as the media dubbed their 40th encounter, the most in the Open era. Oh, Rafa and Nole, you’ve finally been accorded NFL-Super Bowl Roman numeral status. Can your own John Madden fantasy league be far behind?
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Congrats to Nole, who beat Feddy Bear in the finals of the BNP Paribas Open March 16 in Indian Wells, Calif. 3-6, 6-3, 7-6 (3). (That was the tournament Nole was headed to after he played at Madison Square Garden on World Tennis Day, another BNP Paribas event.)
But apparently, the big news out of the California desert is that Roger Federer is back in the top five at age 32. A larger racket, a healed back and the hiring of Stefan Edberg – yet another 1980s star coaching players who were born in that decade – as adviser have all been credited with FedEx’s renewal. (They call them Fedberg. Cute.)
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