We had an off day in Baltimore and Bob Turley lived in Baltimore. He invited everybody over to his house for a little cookout. We had steak and some beer and stuff, and we were all having a pretty good time.

I used to say, no matter what people were talking about, that I was the Oklahoma State Champion at it. No matter what somebody said. Well, we were sitting around talking by the pool and Roger was telling me about his swimming.

He really was an all-around athlete. He was a great football player in Fargo, North Dakota. And baseball and basketball, and I guess he was a great swimmer. Heck, I can't even swim. But I told him I was the Oklahoma State Champion and I'd like to race him across Turley's pool.

Well, I got Whitey off to the side, and I said, "Hey, Slick, when we dive in the water, get that pool sweep over there, and stick it in the water. I'll grab a hold of it and you run me down to the other end." So he said okay.

Me and Roger got out there in this stance, just like they do in the Olympics, a diving stance. Just as soon as I dived in, Whitey handed me the pole, and ran me down to the other end. But he didn't run straight. He ran kind of sideways, and I was bouncing off of the side of the pool. Anyway, he got me down there a good ten feet ahead of Roger and I jumped up on the edge of the pool. I was sitting there when Roger got there. I was wiping the water off of my face, shaking my hair and he looks up and he says, "How in the hell did you get here?" He knew he could beat me. He didn't have any idea what happened. Then everybody started laughing and giggling about it.

Pretty soon, he noticed that the whole left side of my arm was almost bleeding from Whitey pulling me against the side. He said, "You son of a gun!" He knew then that I didn't really swim down there.