Title: Man Who Hasn't Swum Since The Clinton Administration Decides To Train For Olympic Qualifiers In His Apartment Bathtub.
**Green Bay, WI** – Local man and self-proclaimed "mid-level real estate agent" Dave Higgins, 44, announced this week that he is officially launching a bid for the 2028 U.S. Olympic swim team. His training facility? The 1.2-meter-long, slightly-mildewed acrylic bathtub in the guest bathroom of his two-bedroom condo.
You read that right folks. Dave is going for the gold, and he’s doing his laps in the same basin where he usually washes off lawn fertilizer and contemplates his 401k losses. The announcement came via a 14-minute video posted to his Facebook page, titled *"The Comeback: Dave's Gold."* It has since been viewed by at least 47 people, most of whom are his family members and one bot that monitors local "eccentric man child" activity.
“I’ve been watching the trials, and I’ve got to be honest, I don’t see the juice,” Higgins told your reporter, while wearing a pair of 1998 Speedos that were definitely purchased before he met his ex-wife. “These guys are doing 100-meter fly in the 50s? Cool. I can do a lap in my tub in about 1.8 seconds. That’s the same thing if you scale it up. Math is math.”
He’s not wrong, folks. Math is indeed math, but physics is a cruel, cruel mistress. Dave is currently perfecting his "tub crawl," a stroke he invented that involves a frantic combination of doggy paddle and slithering. He says his biggest challenge is the "wall turn," which currently involves a sharp, painful collision with the faucet knob, followed by a lot of cursing and a minor bruise on his tailbone.
“The turn is where I’m losing time,” Dave admitted, wincing as he rubbed his lower back. “In a real pool, you flip. In my tub, you just kind of… stop. And then you have to pivot like a beached manatee. It’s a real momentum killer. I’m working on a modified push-off using the soap dish.”
Dave’s training regimen is, by all accounts, a new form of masochism. He wakes up at 5 AM, fills the tub with lukewarm water (to simulate the exact temperature of a poorly maintained community center pool), and then proceeds to thrash around for 45 minutes. He uses a coffee mug as a kickboard and a rubber duck as a pacing buoy. He tracks his progress with a Fitbit that he swears is accurate, despite the fact it keeps registering his "laps" as "intense stationary flailing."
**The "Pool"**
We toured the facility. The "main pool" is a standard 60-inch by 30-inch American Standard. The "deep end" is where the drain is. The "shallow end" is where the soap scum accumulates. The "lane lines" are imaginary.
“The water quality is… personal,” Dave said, gesturing to the ring of scum that is forming a perfect halo around him. “It’s a closed-loop system. It’s very eco-friendly. I only drain it once a week, or if I see something floating that I don’t recognize. It builds character.”
When asked about the obvious logistical hurdles—like the fact that an Olympic pool is 50 meters long and his bathtub is 1.2 meters long—Dave scoffed.
“That’s a mental block. You’re thinking inside the box. I’m thinking in terms of density. I am doing 41.6 laps per 50-meter pool. That’s a high-volume workout. My cardiovascular system is going to be insane. I’ll be the most efficient swimmer in history because I have to turn twice as often.”
He also dismissed concerns about the lack of actual swimming space.
“The real race is in the mind,” he said, staring intently at a tile that has a small crack in it. “I’m visualizing the crowd. I’m hearing the roar. In my head, the bathroom fan is the sound of 15,000 people chanting my name. And the echo from the tile is the national anthem. It’s very moving.”
**The Competition**
Dave’s main rival, current Olympic gold medalist Caeleb Dressel, declined to comment, presumably because he was too busy practicing in an actual body of water. However, a representative from USA Swimming issued a brief statement: “We are not aware of any swimmer named Dave Higgins. We also recommend against using household plumbing for athletic training, as the drain is not rated for competitive flip turns and the risk of drowning in four inches of water is statistically low, but not zero.”
Undeterred, Dave is currently trying to crowdfund his trip to the Olympic trials. His GoFundMe page, titled **"Flush the Opposition,"** is asking for $5,000 to cover travel, a new Speedo, and "drain maintenance." As of press time, he has raised $12 from his mother and a guy who thought it was a charity for sewage treatment.
“I’m the underdog,” Dave said, pushing a strand of wet hair off his forehead. “I’m the story America needs. A guy who has no business doing the thing, doing it anyway. I’m like the reverse Michael Phelps. He had a 6’7” wingspan. I have a 5’9” wingspan and a bad back. He had 23 gold medals. I have a 38% closing rate on condo sales. It’s the same hunger.”
When asked what he will do if he finishes last, which is mathematically the only possible outcome, Dave gave a grin that suggested he had already prepared a backup career in motivational speaking.
“That’s not last. That’s ‘most improved’ in a field of one. I’m going to stand on that block, look at the water, and know that I already conquered the only real
Final Thoughts
Having spent years watching elite athletes push their limits, I’ve come to see swimming less as a simple sport and more as a profound dialogue between human will and the indifferent physics of water. The real story isn’t just about lap times or medals, but the quiet, brutal discipline of learning to move efficiently through a medium that constantly resists you. Ultimately, swimming reminds us that grace under pressure isn’t born from strength alone, but from the patient submission to forces far larger than ourselves.