The legend of Ziggy and the Turtles extends all the way back to the illustrious team of 1971/72 captained by Robert Combs and John Ebel.
Robert Cheslow, a junior at the time who worked-out in lane 5, was, how shall we say, not one of the faster swimmers on the team. However, what “Chez” lacked in speed he more than made up for with his sense of humor and spirit. In fact, the bus rides to and from the away meets would not have been the same without his antics and banter.
Chez was always lonely in lane 5. After all, everyone was moving a lot faster than he was. He was looking for companionship to help him through the back-and-forth of each workout. Chez dreamed (perhaps even fantasized) about female companionship during his swims but knew for sure that Coach Saltz would not condone that. What would be the next best thing?
Well, one day, at Nathan’s in Oceanside, Chez found the answer to his loneliness – the object of his dreams. It was a small, inflatable turtle in a clear plastic capsule in the 25cent vending machine – expensive by 1971 standards. Chez’ mind was racing, “if I can get this turtle, I can blow it up and let it float along with me on my long journeys from the shallow end to the deep end and back. Surely I will be able to keep up with this cute little guy. I can also play with him during my extended rest periods while I let my leg cramps subside!”
Chez kept digging deep into his pockets and beneath the lint and previously chewed bubble gum found his ticket to ride – a shiny 1970 quarter. He quickly placed it in the gumball machines slot, twisted the knob (cut his finger), and voila, out popped a capsule with the inflatable dream companion inside.
Chez was ecstatic. He inflated the turtle, kissed its shiny, green shell, and explained to the inanimate reptile that nirvana awaited them both at the Hewlett natatorium.
The next day, Chez could not wait to get to swim practice. During each of his classes he was seen petting his new friend and whispering sweet nothings into its plastic little ears. A long and enduring relationship was underway.
Alas, practice that day was not one of the team’s best. A lot of the guys were dogging it and Coach Saltz was not too happy. Coach Saltz had seen the turtle and knew that we were all buzzing about Chez’ new friend, so he capitalized upon what was fast becoming the object of everyone’s attention – Chezlow’s turtle.
Coach Saltz drew a picture of a turtle on the workout chalkboard and added a cartoon dialog that read, “You guys are swimming like a bunch of turdsles!” The message was loud and clear. We could all read between the lines. We recognized that the spelling of T-U-R-D-S-L-E-S was no mistake.
Each workout after that was accompanied by a picture of the “turdsle” and a little saying to motivate us into and through the workout. We quickly and unofficially adopted the “turdsles” as our nickname. Since our team that year was not considered by the rest of the league to be that strong, we liked the subconscious link to the famous story of the Tortoise and the Hare. The 1971/72 turdsles came from nowhere in a number of meets to defeat our overly confident foes. Just ask Plainview about the medley relay in the County Championships that year. They probably still have not gotten over that one.
Chez’ little playmate accompanied us to every meet that season and was ceremoniously placed on the edge of the diving board just before the first event to impart his special powers upon us. We also brought a bottle of Hewlett pool water to each meet and made sure to pour it into the home team’s pool right after placing the turtle on the diving board.
The Long Island newspaper back then was the Long Island Press. Newsday was just coming into its own. The Press covered all of the swimming meets and picked up on our mascot. The paper cleaned-up the spelling of the name and dubbed the Hewlett Swimming Team the Turtles.
During this same season, Coach Saltz introduced us to a Swahili war chant that he had learned while coaching in South Bend, Indiana. The chorus of the chant was Ziggy, Ziggy, Ziggy which meant kill ‘em, kill ‘em, kill ‘em (not too politically correct for the 21st century post-Columbine world that we now live in – this chant today can probably get you suspended from school and perhaps even incarcerated, though hopefully you will be tried as a juvenile and not have to serve out most of your adult-life doing hard-time).
Anyway, it is not too hard to guess that when we decided to name our newly adopted mascot that we named him Ziggy. It just felt right. The vote was unanimous. There was not a hanging chad among the bunch.
As luck would have it, Turtle Wax was having a very timely promotion that year. They were giving away decals of a racing turtle kicking up dust as it “burned rubber” on the track. John Ebel was able to get one of these beauties and Coach Saltz had it placed on the pace clock at the deep-end of the pool. Speedy GonZiggy has presided over every workout and every meet ever since……………and that is the history of Ziggy.