Crandall Pool and Coach Jack Ryan
Updated: Aug 24
Real Places Behind THE QUEST OF KIP SAUNDERS
The swimming pool at West Point is one of the many settings in THE QUEST OF KIP SAUNDERS. As a cadet, I was grateful to be a member of the Army Swimming Team. Like Kip, I had not planned to swim for West Point, but when the opportunity arose, I grabbed it.
I’m glad I did.
Being part of a varsity team had many benefits: eating at Corps Squad tables in the Mess Hall, traveling to other colleges for meets, experiencing the exhilaration of competition, representing Army, and contributing something I knew how to do well.
Practices were held in the morning and afternoon, and the work could be grueling.
But it was also fun.
Looking back on my experience with the team, two things stand out.
First was the sense of belonging to something larger than myself. My teammates accepted me early on as one of them, and we developed a strong bond. They came from all over the country and from varied backgrounds, and I felt fortunate to get to know them, joke around with them, suffer through practices with them, and compete alongside them.
They were more than teammates. They were my brothers.
It felt good to cheer for them, and it felt just as good to hear them cheering for me.
The second thing I cherish was the opportunity to know our head coach, Jack Ryan.
Coach Ryan was a true gentleman. He never needed to bark orders at his swimmers. He was calm and controlled, always organized and always considerate. He was slow to reprimand when someone did something wrong but quick to offer praise when someone did something well.
I remember my first meet for Army, at Villanova University. I won the 200-yard individual medley. When I climbed out of the pool, Coach Ryan met me behind the starting blocks, shook my hand, and said, “Not a bad way to begin your career for Army Swimming.”
That was Coach Ryan.
A few words. A handshake. A small gesture.
But it made an enormous impression on an eighteen-year-old cadet.
And he didn’t reserve that attention for one or two swimmers. He made each member of the team feel that he mattered. There was something special about the way Coach Ryan spoke to you. It is difficult even now to put my finger on exactly what it was, except to say that you usually felt a little better about yourself after talking with him.
Over the years, as I became a teacher and a coach myself, I came to understand something Coach Ryan seemed to know instinctively: one of the differences between a good coach and a great coach is personal attention.
Technique matters. Training matters. Discipline matters. But people also need to know that someone notices their effort and believes they can succeed.
Coach Ryan did that for us.
Readers of THE QUEST OF KIP SAUNDERS will recognize Crandall Pool and Kip’s experience as a member of the Army swim team. My own memories helped me write those scenes not simply as swimming scenes, but as experiences of competition, friendship, pressure, and belonging.
Plebes at West Point were required to memorize General Douglas MacArthur’s famous words about athletics:
“Upon fields of friendly strife are sown the seeds that upon other fields, on other days, will bear the fruits of victory.”
When I was a cadet, I probably understood those words mostly in terms of competition. Train hard. Race hard. Learn to win.
More than forty years later, I understand them differently.
Some of the most important things I carried away from Army Swimming had little to do with my times on the stopwatch or where I finished in a race. I learned what it felt like to belong to a team, to contribute to something larger than myself, to encourage the person beside me, and to be encouraged in return.
And I learned something about leadership from a coach who seldom had to raise his voice.
When I think of Crandall Pool now, I don’t first remember the races I competed in or the times I swam.
I remember my teammates.
And I remember Coach Ryan standing behind the blocks, extending his hand.
🙂memories