little horse who recovered from a breakdown to win the Santa Anita Handicap,
captured my imagination then. Even his name (like Kayak's) conjured up ocean
and water, and I'm giving away nothing at this point by saying that things to
do with water affect me. In fact, the horse, of all land creatures, moving as
it does with such grace and power on slender stalks that seem too fragile to
support a woman's weight, suggests it evolved to run through water.
At Belmont Plaza
that night, coach Horn's water polo team came in second to Stanford in a hotly
contested game. After it, a young woman came up to me by the pool and
introduced herself. I didn't recognize the name.
married name," she said. "I'm Harvey Easton's daughter," and the
tow-headed 2-year-old I'd last seen topping Harvey's shoulder had played in the
After I'd written
about Harvey and Wally, Wally told me that he'd once worked out at Easton's
Gym. Through his grandson, Harvey, it seemed, had now reciprocated and found
his way into Wally's element. Wally's element, of course, is water, Harvey's
was air, and the play of both across their bodies and minds made them move
playfully through both, leaving their imprint in both. Nothing has ever
impressed me more—that a man would choose to leave his mark not as an ugly scar
on the earth, but as a graceful gesture in water, or in the air.