Swimmer doesn’t let cancer spoil dream

Most everybody who was at the U.S. Olympic Swimming Trials in Omaha, Neb., asks themselves, "How?" — as in how did we not have a clue?

How did we fail to notice that Eric Shanteau was swimming with the weight of an insanely recent testicular cancer diagnosis on his mind? Had we imagined his joyous smile? Or did we simply ignore what had to be the palpable fear underneath?

I’d like to say hindsight has provided that "oh yeah, that makes sense now" moment, but not so much. Shanteau was all smiles and happy July 3 after finishing second in the 200-meter breaststroke and thereby guaranteeing his spot in Beijing. And if his immediate reaction had been a little muted for a guy who had just qualified for his first Olympics, well, that was understandable considering his somewhat torturous path.

"That’s basically a career of swimming lifted off my shoulders," he explained at the time. "And after coming so close in 2004 and not making it, I was excited and I wanted to go nuts, but it was just more relief than anything else."

I have listened to my tape at least a half-dozen times since learning of his diagnosis. And I still cannot say for certain that I hear the fear that has to be lurking. He seemed very much like every swimmer who had fulfilled a lifelong goal.

But unlike every other swimmer, Shanteau’s triumph came with an unenviable choice.

He could do as his doctors advised and have surgery to remove the mass from his testicle immediately or put it off until after he swam in the Olympics. There is no doing both. Surgery would keep him out of the water at a critical juncture and basically force him to miss what is probably his best shot at his dream of being on the medal stand with the national anthem playing.

"If I didn’t make the team, the decision would have been easy: Go home and have the surgery," Shanteau told The Associated Press once back in his home state of Georgia. "I made the team, so I had a hard decision. But, by no means am I being stupid about this."

What he decided was to put off surgery long enough to swim the 200 breaststroke in Beijing, with a lot of caveats.

If there is any sign of the cancer spreading, he drops out.

If it shows any signs of metastasizing, he drops out.

If anything even slightly scarier than just having cancer turns up, he drops out and has the surgery.

And to this end, Shanteau’s blood is tested every week ,and every two weeks he has a CT scan. Can you imagine how unsettling this must be? You already have cancer and now you are crossing your fingers and praying it doesn’t get worse before you can try to make it better.

"I know what I’m risking," Shanteau said.

To understand why he’s willing to take this risk, you have to know what Shanteau went through to get to a place where a decision was necessary. Because his is a tale of refusing to go quietly long before his cancer diagnosis.

You see, four years ago, Shanteau was one of the best individual medley swimmers in the world. That would have been great, except the two fastest were Michael Phelps and Ryan Lochte, and the U.S. can only send two in each event.

So when he finished third at the trials in the 200 and 400 IMs, he had to stay home and watch the approximately 60 seconds of the 2004 Games he could stomach and dream of 2008.

And two years ago, he realized Phelps and Lochte were not going anywhere and neither would he unless he did something radical. So Shanteau decided to reinvent himself as a breaststroke specialist.

He had swum the 200 breast at the 2004 Olympic trials but did not even reach the finals. He needed help. This is how Shanteau ended up in Austin, training with Longhorn Aquatics and one of the best breaststrokers in the world in Texas ex Brendan Hansen.

He did what any athlete wouldn’t do. He trained Shanteau.

He helped with stroke changes, with training regimens, with giving him a swimmer to chase in practice. Shanteau does not hesitate when asked about Hansen’s influence, saying, "It has helped me in more ways than you can imagine."

It is also a big reason why Shanteau is going to the Olympics. And a small reason why Hansen is not, not in the 200 breaststroke, his baby, because it was Shanteau who beat him to the wall for the second and final spot. First went to Scott Spann, another Longhorn Aquatics swimmer.

"Part of me won because of both of those guys," Hansen said. "I taught everything I possibly know the last six to eight months to prepare them."

Hindsight actually does shed a little light on his magnanimous display afterward. Hansen is the ultimate good guy. He was also one of the very few who knew in Omaha about Shanteau’s diagnosis.

Everybody else was left asking, "How? How did we not know?"

I talked to Shanteau probably a half-dozen times that week, including once about his very strange-looking stroke and why he seems to hold his arms underwater longer than most.

"I ride my kick longer, that is why," he said. "I have a lot longer stroke than most people, which is why I am not as good at the 100."

It was the ease in which he talked about stroke changes — making his pull wider and lifting his head position — that threw everybody, as if these were the biggest obstacles Shanteau was facing.

Anybody who has had someone close to them battle cancer, or those who battled the disease themselves, understand the good days are often distinguishable by their amnesia; the rare moments when you are able to forget you have this disease.

And I think Shanteau must have had a few such moments in Omaha, where he was simply an Olympian, not the guy with a scary lump in his testicle. There will be more blissful amnesia in Beijing.

He is going there to win. What little I know of Shanteau, I know he would not put off surgery simply for the miles and The Great Wall. His dream was always golden. The only thing that has changed is the event and how the "happily ever after" will happen. He wants to use his experience, much like Lance Armstrong did, to show those who have cancer that it can be beaten and those who don’t that there is a fight still going on.

"If I can have a fraction of the impact that he’s had, just a tiny little bit," Shanteau said, "then I think what I’m going through will be good."

And I think it is safe to say, then everybody will know.