A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I remember watching the first Olympics that I can still recall—-1972.  And btw, it would still be five years before that cliche from Star Wars would be heard.
As a gay 15 year-old boy in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and one who lettered twice in swimming, my major crush for a few years was Mark Spitz. 
The iconic image of him standing in his Speedos with the seven gold medals around his neck was in my next door neighbor’s bedroom.  We swam on the same team and he turned out to be gay too. 
It must have been in the water.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I remember watching the first Olympics that I can still recall—-1972.  And btw, it would still be five years before that cliche from Star Wars would be heard.

As a gay 15 year-old boy in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and one who lettered twice in swimming, my major crush for a few years was Mark Spitz. 

The iconic image of him standing in his Speedos with the seven gold medals around his neck was in my next door neighbor’s bedroom.  We swam on the same team and he turned out to be gay too. 

It must have been in the water.

Notes

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