Web Search powered by YAHOO! SEARCH  

Sports   

TEXT SIZE: A A A A
email this
print this
reprint or license this
SAVE AND SHARE


Bob Ford: Swimsuit controversy at Olympic trials

When the magical 1980 Phillies season was about to begin, Mike Schmidt received a $5,000 promotional contract to wear Nike spikes and the promise of a bonus depending on how things went.

Regrettably, the shoes hurt Schmidt's feet, particularly on the unyielding turf of Veterans Stadium, and Schmitty solved the problem by cutting the logos off a pair of bright red Brooks spikes and sewing homemade Nike logos in their place.

The way Schmidt saw it, Nike got the exposure it paid for, and his tootsies felt better. Win, win.

Brooks didn't share his view when the subterfuge was discovered, however, leading to some brief, entertaining legal action and, eventually, a comfortable pair of legitimate Nike shoes for Schmidt, who stayed with that company - and actually wore the shoes - until he retired.

Sporting-goods manufacturers take this stuff seriously and offer big money to put stars in their products. Just the sales payback from a golfer who goes on a hot streak using a company's new driver is worth every ugly slice that lands in the water.

Having the same shoe as your hero, using the same bat or hockey stick, there's big money there. Kids used to have underwear. Now they've got to have Under Armour.

The big and sometimes nasty business of product endorsement bubbled to the surface again, quite literally, this week at the U.S. Olympic swimming trials in Omaha, Neb. The swimsuit manufacturers are at war, arguing about whose suits are faster, whose contracted athletes are illegally shimmying into someone else's racing tights, and which Olympic coaches are playing favorites when they should be operating with patriotic detachment.

Since Speedo introduced the LZR Racer in February, swimmers wearing the super-sleek, extra-buoyant, girdled thingy have set more than three dozen world records. According to Speedo, the suit has special heat-bonded, rather than sewn, seams and the slippery surface was designed with help from NASA engineers. Some of the advantage is probably from the neck up as the Racer has become the "it" suit.

"I feel like an action hero," Ryan Lochte, a 2004 Olympian, said of wearing the Speedo. "I'm ready to take on the world."

Lochte, it should be added, is under contract to Speedo. So is national-team coach Mark Schubert, who recommended that all U.S. swimmers switch to the LZR Racer, which pleased the TYR company so little that it filed suit against Schubert, the USA Swimming federation, Speedo and Erik Vendt, a two-time Olympian who, according to the company, breached his contract to wear the TYR Tracer Rise when he followed Schubert's advice.

This is messy business, full of conflicts of interest of the sort common in smaller sports where sponsors tend to account for a great deal of the funding. Swimming could do something simple like standardize the suits across all brands, sort of what NASCAR tries to do with its race cars, but then the money would dry up. Why pretend your suit is better if the national and international federations have mandated that they all be the same?

Nike wrapped itself in the flag during the current controversy - which might be just as fast in the pool as wearing the Nike Swift AMP'd - and said its athletes were free to wear whatever they want in this Olympic season. It's all about having the best athletes turning in the best performances and doing the best for the good ol' red-white-and-blue. From a public relations perspective, it's a brilliant move from Marketing 101. When losing, find a way to claim victory.

It is all very confusing, so The Inquirer sponsored a scientific test of the matter yesterday. I got all three of the racing suits - the Speedo model goes for $550, but we're flush right now - and went to the neighborhood swim club and threw them in. They all floated, mostly in the same place, and it was difficult to determine if one was faster than another. As a control, I also threw in a pair of BVD tighty whiteys, which have been the suit of choice in city fountains since Johnny Weissmuller was wearing wool in the Olympic pool. The BVDs eventually sank, but were retrieved during a spirited game of Marco Polo.

The results of the Inquirer test won't affect things in Omaha. The swimmers think the Speedo suit is faster - the official timer agrees - and that's what they are going to wear, contracts or no contracts. Most of the work is done by the people inside the suits, of course, but in a sport in which victories are decided in hundredths of a second, it would be foolish to think that a better suit, even if just a tiny bit better, doesn't help.

Alberto Castagnetti, the Italian national coach, calls it "technological doping," which means, naturally, that his team is contracted to another company. Tough noogies for you, buddy.

It's probably only a matter of time until someone tries to paint a TYR or Nike logo on a Speedo suit. The swimmer will probably think it's a great idea and a neat solution to the problem.

They should call Schmitty on that one, though. It doesn't always work out the way you plan.


Contact columnist Bob Ford

at 215-854-5842 or bford@phillynews.com.

Read his recent work at http://go.philly.com/bobford.