By Mel Stewart

I recently wrote about Michael. (I will no longer use Phelps, his last name. It’s not necessary. In fact, I think we should just call him MP, or M, or simply “The Man!” He’s the closest thing we have to a deity.) Anyway, I alluded to his sex appeal, and I got criticized for it, in two ways.

ONE: Swimmers, and parents of swimmers, and old swimming officials emailed me. They were concerned that I would even use the word “sex” in the same sentence as “swimmer.” And TWO: Other swimmers, or swimming enthusiasts, commented that Michael didn’t have “sex appeal.”

To address the first issue, I will use my daughter as an example. She’s eight, and innocent, and probably overprotected. My daughter has heard the word “sex,” and she’s asked about it.

“Daddy, a girl said ‘sex’ in my classroom, and she got in trouble for it.”

That struck me rather oddly. Why would one word cause so much stress? I told my daughter, “Sex is what we are. I’m a boy. That’s my sex. I have the parts that boys have...parts different from yours. You have girl parts, and that’s your sex.”

We were in the car, coming back from school at the time, and a quiet moment passed before I heard my daughter say, “Daddy, what does sexy mean?”

That did make me uncomfortable, for a second. “Sexy” was a topic I wasn’t prepared to address.

“Sexy, sweet-heart, means nothing more than being a lot like a boy or a girl...having strong boy or girl qualities.”

“Strong how?” my daughter pressed me.

“Just strong” I told her. “As you get older I’ll explain it some more.”

My point of sharing the episode above is that I’ve thought about this topic a lot. How do I, as a father, want my daughter to come to understand, respect, and even have a healthy appreciation for her sex -- and what is sexy.

From my gut came the answer: Why, swimming, of course.

Today kids are bombarded with television and advertising images selling sex. A lot are alarming, especially when you’re a parent. It makes me worry for my daughter, about her personal body-image. As she grows and develops, I want her to be confident about herself. I don’t want her to be confused by the emaciated stick-figures that high-fashion magazines deem sexy. I want her to have a sober perspective and be emotionally healthy.

Swimmers epitomize what is sexy. They must live healthy lifestyles to participate and be competitive. They must eat properly and sleep properly and maintain their grades. Bottom-line: They must maintain a disciplined life (which engenders a certain level of maturity and understanding about the responsibly of participating in the act itself, though I’m not directly addressing that topic. I think swimmer-parents, arguably the best parents in the world, can address that based on their religious and cultural backgrounds.)

To address the second issue, the emailed opinions about Michael lacking sex appeal: Buy the August copy of “Men’s Journal.”

Case closed...

Just kidding. I can’t let this topic go.

Sex appeal has always been a part of swimming, and now, in the 21st century, the situation’s no different. We’re simply seeing a lot more of the same:

From Johnny Weissmuller and Esther Williams on the silver screen, to Rowdy Gaines, Steve Lundquist, Jeff Float and Bruce Hayes standing stark-naked famously behind Rochelle Wechel, or even to Dara Torres redefining our image of middle-age, swimming has always had sex appeal.

Frankly, it’s little disingenuous to deny that incredibly healthy, adult men and women in swim suits are anything but sexy. And it is a quality to be celebrated, especially in the athletic world where we, I argue, have a responsibility to put forth the proper image. Not one that is trashy, or base, or unhealthy and tasteless.

In many ways, I think swimmers are the benchmark for what is best about being sexy.

Mel Stewart is a columnist for Swimnetwork.com.