A Thank You to Southern Illinois Coach Rick Walker

Photo Courtesy: Andy Ross

It’s hard to put into words how much your college coach means to you. After all, they are the ones who oversee your growth for four years from when you are an awkward, lanky 18-year-old kid to when you walk across the stage at graduation as a strong 22-year-old young adult.

My coach at Southern Illinois, Rick Walker, announced his retirement from collegiate coaching last week. I don’t know how else I could sum up what it meant to swim four years under Rick as a Saluki at Southern Illinois University. So I will start from the beginning.

When I was a senior in high school, I had literally no idea what I wanted in a school. I visited three schools in the fall of 2012, but none of them stood out to me. I liked bits and pieces of each school I attended but I wasn’t completely satisfied with any of them. So I told my dad I wanted to look at just one more. A couple weeks later, I met Rick at the Purdue Invite in November 2012 and told him I was interested in coming to Southern Illinois.

He told me about the college of mass communication, which was what I was wanting to go into, and I just sat there wide-eyed at the stories he told me of successful people that came through SIU’s mass comm program.

I came to Carbondale for the first time in January 2013 over Martin Luther King weekend to visit the school as just a regular student. It was there that I fell in love with the school and knew it was a place where I could thrive as a person.

“Can I just commit now?” I remember asking my mom at dinner one of the nights.

The next day I met Rick on deck at their practice. Again, he seemed like the right coach for me right off the bat. I remember him being attentive and genuinely seemed interested in the potential of me joining the team, instead of just entertaining me for an hour and then never talking to me again. He took my mom and I on a tour of campus after practice. Even though we just walked around campus the day before, it was a refreshing take on everything to listen to a man that had been there for about 25 years at that point.

In April 2013, I took an official visit as a swimmer. And that Monday I called Rick and told him I wanted to be a Saluki.

Of course your swim career will never go 100 percent as planned. For about seven months, it looked like mine was. I was adapting to training. I was comfortable in my new school, and I was swimming well. We flew to the Mid-American Conference Championships in Buffalo, New York the first week of March in 2014. I remember that season we would do pace 50s breaststroke and I would push 32s, maybe a 31 on a good day. The day before the meet started I did a push 50 at about 70 percent and did a 30. I knew it was going to be a great meet after that.

But then the first night of the meet, I wasn’t feeling very good. I had a really bad headache and I felt sick, like I was going to throw up. I didn’t really know what was going on; I thought I just needed some water or electrolytes. As I boarded the bus after the 400 medley relays, I had to get off to throw up in the snow.

We got back that night to the hotel and I kept telling myself I was fine. I had the 400 IM the next day and I kept telling myself I was going to be ready to go.

But I threw up all night that night. It turns out a number of guys on our team had gotten some sort of 24-hour flu virus and to this day, I don’t know what caused it or how it affected us. But over the entire meet, almost every single person on that trip, coaches included, got hit with the virus.

I’ll never forget when I woke up that Friday morning and Rick walked into my hotel room. I told him there was no way I could even get out of bed, let alone swim the 400 IM that morning.

I saw the devastation in his face. We had worked so hard and we both knew that I was due for a big drop.

The 2014 Mid-American Conference Championships seemed to affect me for the rest of my career. I became paranoid about what I was eating before big meets. I would put extra pressure on myself to meet times that I never swam. It was hard to train after that because in the back of my mind, I knew I was a 2:03 200 breaststroker, but the scoreboard read 2:06. How can you set goal times if you think you’re faster than you actually are?

My sophomore year, I injured my IT band and couldn’t train breaststroke to my full potential the majority of that season. I shifted training to more IM and focused on the 400 IM over the 200 breast.

When I got to the 2015 Mid-American Conference Championships, I put my injury aside and focused on that 2:03 in the 200 breast. I knew that I was capable of going that fast because my dual meet times were faster than the year before. Maybe even a 2:02 or a 2:01. But on the day of the 200 breast, my big redemption day, I choked.

Our team was swimming lights out the first three days. The previous year at MAC, we were fifth. Through three days in 2015, we were in third. But we weren’t ahead by much. We didn’t have the best performances in the 200 back or 100 free on that last morning, so by the time the 200 breast rolled around, I was more nervous than I had ever been. I knew the team needed me to step up in the morning. It was just a matter of doing it.

The year before, I had basically no pressure because I got sick. No matter what I did, I knew I wasn’t going to be 100 percent at my best, so there was basically no pressure at that meet. In 2015, I didn’t have that excuse.

On the 7th 25 of my prelim swim, it hit me all of a sudden that I wasn’t going very fast. I knew what pain felt like at that point in the 200 breast, and I wasn’t feeling it there. I got to the finish and saw the board.

2:05.05.

I was last in the heat, and I was 18th overall. The year before I managed 14th place with a 2:06.94 just 24 hours after throwing up all night. This year, I went almost two full seconds faster and I was going to have to watch the consolation final from the bench.

I had never been more devastated in my career.

Rick consoled me after my race. I don’t really remember exactly what he said, but there was something about “I know the sun will rise tomorrow.” He wasn’t mad. He didn’t sound disappointed. Obviously he was. But he was basically trying to reassure me that one bad swim was not the end of the world. Life goes on.

2016 Louisville Invite; Photo Courtesy: Lauren Stockton

Life did go on. And I had the best summer training of my life after that. I finally felt like I saw the improvements I was looking for and that “jump” that every college swimmer strives for.

I came back to school in the fall ready to go. I was in the best aerobic shape of my life leading into the fall of 2015 and I was finally ready to show everyone what I could do. (I remember telling someone I was going to win MAC that year, so maybe I was a little over confident.) I remember begging Rick to let me swim the mile at our intrasquad meet that year because I wanted to see what I could go. I remember putting up times in practice that I had never done before. I was training out of my mind.

I got to the MAC Championships that year determined. I was going to leave that choke job from 2015 behind me.

And I did! I finally scored in the 100 breast, which set the tone for an even better 200. The next night I finally got down to a 2:01. It was the first short course season in maybe nine years where I felt fully satisfied with everything.

I was ready for a break. The end of that meet felt like the end of my entire career. But the problem was, I was only a junior.

That year, I was under more stress than I had ever been in my entire life. I said yes to too many things. I was living off campus for the first time and cooking my own meals. I was paying bills and going grocery shopping, doing “adult things” for the first time in my life. I was in classes that took up more of my free time. As an upperclassman, people were expecting more of me, and as a captain of the team, it seemed everyone expected me to be perfect all the time.

Things quickly started to pile up in the weeks leading up to the MAC meet, causing some strain between myself and the team. But I was performing well in the pool so I was able to push off those external stressors and not deal with them at the time.

But then after MAC, I was forced to deal with them.

I showed up late to team functions. I forgot about team functions. I wouldn’t show up to optional practices. People would confront me about these things and it would anger me, obviously. I was saying bad things about people behind their backs because all the stress was taking a toll on me. As an upperclassman and especially as a captain, that did not sit well with anybody.

It was almost like I was two different people. Looking back, I felt like Daniel Kaluuya’s character in the movie Get Out. People saw me as the same Andy. Kind, approachable, positive. But inside, I was angry, disdainful and negative. Nobody wanted to be around me.

And in April 2016, I had serious thoughts about quitting the sport of swimming, because it seemed to be hurting me more than helping. I was ready to pursue other things.

By the end of the semester, I approached Rick and told him I couldn’t handle being a leader anymore. He knew I was going through a lot and I wasn’t myself.

When I came back to school in August, I told him I had been ready to leave the sport altogether.

“Andy, I am not going to let you do that,” he told me.

That meeting we had in August 2016 will always stick out to me. Because it was what saved my career.

Rick knew me better than I thought he did. He was like the father figure I had away from home. He knew I was going through a lot in my junior year and knew it had been taking a toll on me mentally.

But he was very clear when he said that quitting swimming was not what I should do.

It’s almost a microcosm for life. It’s like that old John Lennon quote, “everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.”

After that meeting we had in the first week of school in August 2016, I was a completely new man. I was more committed to being a better teammate and leaving all of that negativity from junior year behind me. I wanted to remember my senior year and not sit back and think “what if?”

2017 Swim & Dive banquet; Photo Courtesy: Andy Ross

It’s safe to say that my senior year of college was the best year of my life. I don’t know if it was because I was fully focused on swimming and school and nothing else. I don’t know if it was my best friend moving into my apartment with me. I don’t know if it was the new freshmen class that came in that year.

But I 100 percent know that I would not have enjoyed my senior year as much if Rick did not talk me out of jumping off the ledge at the beginning of the season.

Rick cared about all his athletes as people. He always just told it how it was and knew what to say if someone didn’t have a good swim. I remember one meet specifically where I complained about having a bad last 25 because I swallowed water and lost my rhythm.

“Don’t do that next time,” was his response.

I was mad about having a bad finish, but Rick’s semi-sarcastic remark just made me laugh. It was a simple answer but it was a simple solution.

When I was in college I struggled with overthinking about races, practices, etc. Some of the best advice he ever gave me has stuck with me even into the professional world. When you’re on deck and in the water, you can worry about swimming. But when you leave the deck, you let it go. There is no need to stress about swimming when you are not on deck.

Some wise words from someone who has been coaching for over 30 years.

Rick also knew how to have fun. I will never forget this one particular winter break practice my sophomore year. We were stuck in Carbondale and didn’t travel for a training trip, so everyone’s morale was already low. It was probably the middle of week 2 of 3 in the training camp and everyone was just done. Mentally done. Physically done. Emotionally done.

I believe that morning practice we were expecting a threshold set or something no one had the energy to do. Rick called us out of the water and everyone was thinking we had some insane set coming our way.

Instead, he sat us all down and let us play charades. Except instead of normal charades, we drew names of people on the team out of a hat and we had to do an impression of them to see if the team could guess. (I like to think I won charades that day but who is counting?)

I’ll always remember the student-athlete talent show performance that we put on my sophomore year. We decided on performing a medley of songs that were changed to represent swimming. (For example, we sang the song Swimming Pools by Kendrick Lamar and sang “Wake up, swim. Eat food, swim.)

We approached Rick to see if he could feature on a rap in Swimming Pools. Instead of laughing in our faces, he was all on board. He even gave himself the name, “Biscuit Lips” as his rap stage name that he frequently would use after the talent show.

(I believe his lyrics went something like, “I’m Rick Walker, I have ’em up on the blocks…”)

2017 senior day, Rick’s 30th season; Photo Courtesy: Andy Ross

We ended up winning that talent show, probably because we were the only team that had our coach along with us. (There has to be a video of the performance out there somewhere). But that was just who Rick was. He was a serious coach, but he also let us have fun. He had a knack for telling us “dad” jokes, none of which can come to me right now, but other people who swam for Rick can attest.

I remember him telling us he was having more fun coaching now than he did the rest of the years in his career. Maybe it was just something he told every team, but to us it felt genuine.

He had more energy than a lot of 50-some-year-olds I knew. His athletes respected him. Other coaches on deck respected him. Everyone in the city of Carbondale knew and respected him.

The swim team at Southern Illinois became well-known for our continued support at other sporting events, including volleyball and basketball, where we would sit in the stands in our swimsuits to cheer them on. They have since become traditions and that has all been Rick’s doing.

I’ll always remember those 6 a.m. practices when we would be on deck at 5:58 and Rick wasn’t there yet. We were counting down the minutes to 6 to see if he would show up, but then at 5:59 he would stroll in hurriedly and just say “good morning, people!”

Thank you, Rick Walker for saving my swimming career. I don’t want to think how different my life would have been if I never made the decision to become a Saluki. You taught me so many things, not just about swimming.

Not only did you push me to be the best swimmer I could be, but you encouraged me to take that Swimming World internship in the fall of 2014, which was the start of a long road to me being where I am now.

If I had quit swimming in the summer of 2016, there is no way I would be in the position I am right now, and for that I thank you.

I know there have been a lot of other swimmers’ lives over the years that you have impacted, but I want to thank you, Rick, for impacting mine.

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Dixie Henry

5 years ago

Rick Walker is a great swim coach, and even a finer man.

Stephen "Sid" Cassidy

5 years ago

Thank you Andy for sharing … well done indeed.
I could hear Rick’s voice instructing you “Don’t do that next time”. 😉 Pure Rick Walker.

Eileen Walker

5 years ago

Brought tears to my eyes as you captured Rick oh so well. Job well done, Andy!

Mark Goedecke

5 years ago

I love Rick Walker! Thank you, Andy, for sharing your heartfelt story with the world. Rick has impacted many many swimmers over the years. Rick’s positive, motivational and fun attitude has shined on all who have been honored to call him coach.
Bravo to Rick!