In high school I tried out for the football team. That experiment, in August, lasted for one day. 100 degree temperatures on the gridiron is not my idea of sport. So, I made the only rational choice; a swimming pool of high school aged youth in speedos. It was a springtime sport, and sometimes a winter sport. Apparently the season depended on the whim of the athletic director.
I liked being in the pool and sometimes our coach instructed us to hold our arms out while fellow swimmers lay across them. This was intended to improve our form, but I just enjoyed it.
In 1971, I graduated from high school and while in college I came to become more conscious of my sexual orientation. There were lots of little clues: I enjoyed watching out my window as the boy who lived across the mall undressed for the night. I picked up a piece of gay porn from the trash and treasured it for months. It seems difficult to describe my experience to a post internet reader but I had a lot to learn and no easy way to learn it. I have read stories about farm boys who found other boys on the farm. Mine was not so easy.
Many years later I give thanks to my young friends on the swim team and the many other awkward, friendly experiences that taught me the joys of physical affection.
