Gold Medal Mel
By Mel Stewart
Jessica Hardy’s positive drug test set off a firestorm in the media. The web lit up with negative judgments and comments, peppered with a few quiet voices calling for calm and reason.
I am not going to argue over Hardy’s guilt or innocence; however, I will try to give you a window on the human drama, a glimpse into what she may be feeling and experiencing.
Kicker Vencill knows. He’s been there. He received the USADA document that informs athletes of a positive drug test.
“I came from Kentucky, a small pond,” Kicker tells me. “I didn’t make my national cuts until I was twenty.”
Kicker bloomed late at Western Kentucky, an off the radar, Division I university. Fortunately, Kicker benefited from a coach with unique insight, former world-class swimmer Steve Crocker.
“Crocker turned me into a sprinter,” Kicker explains. “If it had not been for him, I probably wouldn’t have had an international career.”
Kicker made the World University Games Team in 2001, where he represented the U.S., in Beijing, and won.
“I won! It was amazing!” he tells me.
“Gold?” I ask for clarity.
“No. I won a silver medal, on the 4x100 relay. I was sick for my individual event. But I got up, you know, for the relay, for the U.S. Team.”
I hear Kicker’s pride, and I feel a bit ashamed of my arrogance. Of course he’s proud of a silver medal. Bringing home any hardware from an international competition is a huge success.
“Mel, I have had to fight and chip away at every step. I am someone who appreciates every tiny improvement.”
Kicker continued to progress, even relocating to Southern California, to Coach David Salo’s Irvine Nova Aquatics, to go for it.
“100 free is the event. You get sixth at Olympic Trials; you make the team in 4x100 relay. You get to represent the U.S.”
Kicker’s sights were on the 2004 Olympic Trials, and he knew he was on course when he made the 2003 Pan American Team.
“My confidence was building. After Pan Ams, I’d have two major competitions under my belt.”
The morning of February 4th, 2003, that was Kicker’s mindset: hopeful, confident. He was a bona fide, world-class athlete. Early that California day, sunny and warm, Kicker returned from practice to his apartment to find a FED EX package leaning against the door.
“I saw USADA on it. That gave me a funny feeling. You know...odd. I went inside, stood at my apartment’s bar countertop. I was facing into the kitchen. I flipped the FED EX package over and ripped the tag, opening it. Inside was a book, a 75 page document. The letterhead was simple black and white, small type. Not big. But the words might as well have been.”
They informed him that he had failed his A-sample drug test.
“I was in utter disbelief, thinking: This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.”
Kicker tried to read the massive document. He couldn’t get through it. The pages were riddled with analytical scientific jargon.
“It was overwhelming. And I am not a complete scientific novice. I was an agriculture-major in college. I took chemistry and biology. But USADA’s document, it might as well have been Greek. That’s when I felt alone...lost. Suddenly I felt nauseous.”
Kicker called his coach, David Salo, who told him to take a breath and bring the document to him, that they could review it together and decide how to take the next step.
Kicker called his mother next.
“Imagine having to tell your mom this? You can’t. I mean, I’m from a good family. I love my family! I didn’t want to burden them with this.”
Kicker tried to guide his mother through the document. He was 24 years old at the time, but he felt like a frightened kid.
“Mom, I’ve tested positive for a steroid precursor.”
Kicker says that was the hardest part, telling her that.
“I wasn’t embarrassed. My parents knew I was honorable. But what could they do about the situation? Nothing... It was an awful cross for them to bear. There was nothing they could really do. They just said, ‘We love you and we will go to any lengths to support you.’”
After Kicker retained one lawyer from his hometown, and then a second lawyer who specialized in this type of litigation; he went before CAS, the Court of Arbitration for Sport, on June 20th and 21st.
“It’s a three person panel, and they are the judge and jury. A USADA lawyer prosecutes you. It’s arbitration. They argue the case.”
June 23rd, on Kicker’s birthday, he learned that USADA’s positive drug test would be upheld. CAS ruled that Kicker would be suspended for four years. (The ruling was later changed to a two year suspension because USADA had to adopt the World Anti-Doping Agency’s code.)
“Pan Ams were done,” Kicker continues, his voice dropping an octave,” but that didn’t bother me as much as missing my shot at the 2004 Olympic Team.”
Kicker knew he was innocent, but he felt powerless. He didn’t swim for a full year, and wondered if he ever would.
“I worked at Home Depot at that time, to support myself. It was weird, walking into the employee snack room, seeing someone reading about my positive drug-test in the LA Times or Orange County Register.”
There’s no note of anger in Kicker’s voice now. He sounds sad about the situation, almost morose.
“It’s hard being judged publicly, especially when you feel so powerless to defend yourself.”
I ask him, as tactfully as I can, if he ever considered suicide during that time.
“People end their lives for reasons like mine. I know that. But I never considered. I just felt that if I told the truth, eventually my name would be cleared.”
Kicker did tell the truth, in the only venue he had left: civil court. He sued the company that provided him supplements, proving before a jury of his peers that they gave him contaminated vitamins. The settlement was rather sizable, reflecting the time, athletic opportunity and life he had lost. Kicker didn’t care about the money nearly as much as getting his name cleared.
“That felt good. And maybe that’s why I’m not bitter now...I had my family’s support and, you know, I really learned who my friends were.”
Interestingly, Kicker did go to the 2004 Olympic Trials. He went to Long Beach to watch and support his world-class peers.
“I cheered a lot. It was an amazing experience. That’s where I decided my swimming days weren’t over.”
Despite winning the civil suit, CAS’s suspension stayed in place. At the end of the two year shutout, Kicker Vencill returned to practice.
“It took me almost three years to get back into tip-top, world-class shape. But I had to. I had to be on the blocks in Omaha, at the 2008 Olympic Trials.”
Kicker shares with me that the hurt didn’t all go away. Sometimes on the pool-deck he’d hear gossip; that someone told someone that they still thought he cheated.
“That’s what hurt the most, hearing that some swimmer still judged me. But I can’t blame them. I can only say that people should keep a level head until they know all the facts, until they know everything.”
In Kicker’s case, he had taken contaminated vitamins. He also learned that the amount of the steroid precursor in his positive test was so tiny, that the trace elements would have cleared his system if he had given the urine-specimen a few hours later.
“It was a fluke. The contamination was so small I had to be tested at exactly the right time for it to show up.” There’s a heavy sigh, weighted with years of frustration. “It made me stronger. And honestly, I don’t blame USADA’s zero-tolerance. I know with the state of athletics now, with cheaters trying to beat the system that they have to be vigilant.”
Kicker tells me that one man helped him more that than anyone else, Rick DeMont, associate head coach at the University of Arizona.
“Rick tested positive back in 1972 because of his asthma medication, and he had won Olympic gold. If anyone knew what I was going through, he did.”
Rick counseled Kicker and encouraged him along the way.
“He told me that we carry a brand that few athletes carry, and we will the rest of our lives. We can either choose to be bitter about it, or choose make the best of it. Rick told me not to give up, not to forget what it was like when we were kids. He told me not to forget the joys of swimming.”
Kicker Vencill did make it all the way back.
“Mel, I didn’t make the 2008 Olympic Team, but I stood on those blocks at Olympic Trials, and for me, after everything that had happened, it was if I had already won.”
Mel Stewart is a columnist for Swimnetwork.com.
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