„I think Italy has some magic water."
„I think so too."
_-_-_-_-_
He is a good short distance swimmer. His domain is the backstroke. He looks like a model and the female fans can go crazy for him.
She is a diver who masters 3 meters, 10 meters and p...
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Beatrice stood in the stands alongside other spectators who had come to support their swimmers, watching as Thomas stepped onto the starting block. The atmosphere was charged with tension and anticipation—everyone knew that the semifinal race for the 200-meter backstroke would be tough, with strong competitors all around. Thomas had prepared meticulously for this race, and although he appeared calm and focused, Beatrice knew he was feeling a whirlwind of emotions inside.
Thomas's performance in the water had always been impressive, and Beatrice was determined to be there for him, no matter what happened. She watched as he put on his swimming goggles and stepped onto the block, his body poised for the explosive energy that would carry him through the entire 200 meters. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she clenched her fists as if trying to send him strength from afar.
The starting signal sounded, and the swimmers dove into the water. Thomas quickly found his rhythm, his movements smooth and powerful, each stroke propelling him forward. Beatrice watched his every move, her eyes glued to the surface of the pool as if she could somehow push him ahead with her gaze. It was clear that Thomas was giving the race everything he had.
The first half of the race went according to plan. Thomas swam with concentration, staying among the leaders, and Beatrice couldn't imagine him not making it to the final. The crowd around her cheered for their swimmers, but she only had eyes for Thomas, focused on his determination and desire to succeed.
As the second hundred meters approached, the pace of the race began to pick up. Beatrice could feel the tension in the arena mounting. Thomas was trying to keep up, but the other swimmers started to push even harder. Their performances were incredible, each of them fighting with maximum effort for a spot in the final.
Thomas's lead began to diminish, and Beatrice noticed his strokes becoming heavier. Despite his efforts, his body was reaching its limits. He was swimming at his maximum, but it was clear that the other swimmers were pulling ahead. His effort was undeniable, but the competition was fierce.
When the swimmers reached the finish and the final standings appeared on the screen, Beatrice felt her heart sink. Thomas finished in ninth place. That meant his journey in this race ended in the semifinals. He hadn't made it to the final.
The crowd around her celebrated the successes of their favorites, but Beatrice stood still, her eyes fixed on Thomas as he slowly emerged from the water. She knew how much this race meant to him, how hard he had trained, and how much energy he had put into it. She saw him take a deep breath, his face reflecting disappointment.
Thomas climbed out of the pool and headed to the locker room, where his coaches and teammates were waiting for him, but Beatrice could see that he wasn't feeling well. Even though others around him were talking and trying to encourage him, Thomas remained quiet and lost in his thoughts.
