International Swimming Hell, er, Hall of Fame
If you ever get the opportunity to visit the International Swimming Hall of Fame Museum in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida … don’t. In fact, turn in the opposite direction and walk away. You’d be better off rolling your $8 in fish entrails and feeding it to seagulls. At least that way, you’d know it was money well wasted.
Because I’m a firm believer in patronizing local businesses and “seeing the sights” in a new city, I was excited to visit the ISHOF. Every street corner near the ocean has signs pointing you to this tourist hotspot. And while I don’t swim, I can appreciate the dedication athletes have to their sport. (Well, that and Speedo had an exhibit there that I wanted to see. Duh.)
The ISHOF sits on the intercostal waterway a quarter mile from the Atlantic Ocean. To say its locale is prime real estate would be an understatement. The buildings are surround by $2 and $3 million yachts as far as the eye can see. To look at it from the outside, it has a bit of kitschy, retro ‘60’s swagger to it. “This could be fun,” I told my friend Tracey. More untrue words have never been spoken.
When you first walk in, you’re greeted by a lonely looking mannequin that – I assume – is supposed to represent Olympic medalist Mark Spitz. “Is that Burt Reynolds?” my friend Tracey asked. A hand painted placard on the wall states “World’s Greatest Olympic Swimmer”. Upon closer examination, there’s a hastily added “2nd” scrawled on top of it. Seems when Michael Phelps usurped Spitz’s record – the ISHOF had to scramble to change the verbiage. Maybe there were budgetary restraints or something.
Speaking of Phelps – the museum is practically devoid of any mention to him. In this sport, he’s a living legend – and, yet, I think I spotted only one Wheaties box with his picture on it. Let’s face it … the kid is probably just a flash in the pan, right? The museum probably wonders why re-do an entire museum just to honor a pothead?
The building is a hodge-podge of strewn-together Olympic medals, exhibits and posters. It has the Feng Shui of a crazy person. Oh sure, they try to take you through the history of swimming from a chronological perspective … and fail miserably. It was like being in Esther Williams’ basement … if Esther Williams was a hoarder.
My friend Tracey put it best when he likened the ISHOF to Paris Hilton. “It looks pretty on the outside, but the inside is a MESS.” Instead of having doors to keep wandering patrons out of certain areas, they have decoratively placed bed sheets hanging from the rafters. And when I poked my head in to the museum’s off-limits conference room, I was appalled. It was a wall-to-wall fire hazard of paraphernalia and memorabilia that had yet to be haphazardly displayed.
I lasted about 30 minutes before I wanted to drown myself in the nearby pool. My only hope is that Greg Louganis gets a bunch of his gays together and they have an extreme ISHOF makeover. It’s their only hope.
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