It's second period, and Matt Novinski, as usual, is the first to slide quietly into my classroom.
He shakes his head ruefully. "I have to think about the next goal," he says. "I'm always hard on myself."
"How'd you swim this weekend?" I ask as he drifts silently to his seat.
He smiles bashfully. "All right," he says.
"All right" is Novinski Code.
It means, "I won all my events" or "I'm the 100 yard backstroke state champ" or "I'm the third fastest high school junior in the United States of America".
It means, "I won all my events" or "I'm the 100 yard backstroke state champ" or "I'm the third fastest high school junior in the United States of America".
That's what "all right" means.
I dare you to get a Novinski to brag. Matt's older brother Dan is just as humble and almost the swimmer Matt is.
Almost.
One day, last year, Dan bounds into my classroom. "I beat my brother Matt!"
At the time Dan is senior class president, first in his class, a state champion swimmer himself, and will shortly deliver the valedictorian address that will draw a wild standing ovation. All this pales in comparison to beating his younger brother Matt in a single swim event.
I wonder if it's ever possible for Matt to simply sit back and think, "Dang, I'm good."
He shakes his head ruefully. "I have to think about the next goal," he says. "I'm always hard on myself."
Well. Not always. He admits that last summer during States, which is four consecutive days of intense non-stop prelim and final swim meets, he experiences a moment of weakness.
He decides, he says, to "dog it." After the race, both his coach and his father stare at him reproachfully without saying a word. His mother, however, lets him have it.
"Good one," she says. That is all. Her clipped words fairly drip with sarcasm, and Matt receives the message loudly and clearly. He has disappointed the people he loves most, and he has disappointed himself.
"Good one," she says. That is all. Her clipped words fairly drip with sarcasm, and Matt receives the message loudly and clearly. He has disappointed the people he loves most, and he has disappointed himself.
Both college swimmers themselves, Dr. Dan and Carole Novinski understand the sport through and through. "My dad works harder than anybody I know," Matt says, "and my mom understands me really well."
Parents to five children, Dan and Carole Novinski instill a tremendous work ethic in all their kids. Matt appreciates the love, support and sacrifices they've made for him. His parents are responsible, he says, for his success not only as a swimmer but as a person.
His faith, he says, is the other big part of his success.
"There are things I can't control in my life," he says, "but I can work as hard as I can, and I trust God has a plan if I do my part. Sometimes I might have to figure it out in some twisted, messed up way," he grins. "But I know God's watching out for me."
He recalls, for example, a football injury that dislocates his knee and effectively ends his football career. "That's when I figured I'd better stick to swimming and forget about land sports," he jokes.
It's worked out for the best and just the way it's supposed to, he says. He's grateful for Grand Island Central Catholic, his teachers, and fellow students who surround him with a culture of faith. "I have a relationship with every teacher and kid in school. They're my family," he says. He remembers the pain of losing his grandmother when he is in the seventh grade. His teachers and classmates huddle around him and offer their condolences and prayers. He is comforted and buoyed by their love and support. "That's the way it is at GICC. We try to be there for each other, and everyone's always supported me."
His parents, his faith and his GICC family make him believe anything is possible. Even the Olympic swim trials. Currently, he's the third fastest high school junior in the country. But that's not enough.
"I want to be the fastest," he says.
The kid's good. Dang, he's good.
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