A new year doesn’t change who you are—it exposes it. Heading into 2026, I want to be clear about where I’m coming from and why I write about this sport the way I do. I’m Tim Carroll—a swim parent, lifelong sports fan, and former “win or lose is everything” guy whose perspective has been permanently reshaped by watching my kids grow through competition. I used to see sports strictly as outcomes: did you win or did you lose? Now, as a parent and someone who’s lived a few chapters of life, I see sports as something much bigger. Sports put kids under pressure in a safe place so they’re ready when the pressure is real—when it’s a high-impact job interview, a moment of leadership where others are counting on them, stepping onto a plane for a military deployment, walking into a courtroom, leading a team through adversity, or standing up when quitting would be easier. Racing prepares kids for the moments later in life where showing up fully actually matters.
That belief shapes how I cover swimming. Swimming is a team sport, but racing is personal. When a swimmer steps onto the blocks, it’s just them, their lane, and the clock—no hiding and no shortcuts. That’s why I’ve always gravitated toward boxing when I think about this sport. Fighters understand preparation, accountability, and pressure in a way that mirrors swimming perfectly. As Muhammad Ali once said, “I hated every minute of training, but I said, ‘Don’t quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion.’” Every swimmer knows that feeling: early mornings, long sets, and choosing discipline when motivation has checked out.
In 2026, my focus stays exactly where it belongs—on swimmers, teams, and real competition. I care about the under-the-radar grinder, the kid chasing tenths instead of headlines, the comeback story no algorithm will ever surface on its own. I believe culture builds fast teams, not the other way around, and I’ll keep spotlighting programs and coaches who do more with less and teach kids how to compete with purpose. Competition matters because it teaches you who you are, especially when it hurts. As Mike Tyson said, “Discipline is doing what you hate to do, but doing it like you love it,” which might be the most accurate description of swimming ever written. Racing doesn’t lie. Or, as Floyd Mayweather Jr. put it, “I don’t count my sit-ups. I only start counting when it starts hurting.”
As this year unfolds, I’m committed to more than just coverage—I’m committed to connection. In 2026, I’ll work to build real relationships across the sport and bring you the stories that matter most, the ones that remind us why swimming pulls people together in the first place. The stories that live on pool decks, in team vans, between heats, and long after the last race is swum. That’s the lane I’m in for 2026. Happy New Year—now let’s race.