Taking the Empty Lane

Bill Pilczuk, head swimming coach at SCAD and former world-class swimmer, reflects on his successful, albeit unorthodox, swimming career.

Written by Joel Thatcher

Bill Pilczuk was a long way from his home in Cape May, New Jersey. It was Saturday, January 17, and yet another warm summer evening in Perth, Australia, for the finals of the 1998 Swimming World Championships. Not a single cloud could be spotted in the pale blue sky as the 50-meter freestyle finalists prepared themselves behind the starting blocks. Beneath the waving flags of every nation, Bill sat on a white plastic chair, the same kind that can be found at any local pool, drying his legs behind the block of lane six.

He was the only swimmer not wearing his warm-ups, instead, he wore only his black swimsuit and the towel he carried with him. A pair of clear goggles rested on his tall forehead, over a black cap with an American flag printed on the side. As the announcer called his name, he rose to his feet and gave a shy smile, and something in between a wave and a fist pump to the Americans waving flags in the stands, before he looked back to the ground. Behind the blocks, Bill was the embodiment of the word long. His tall form was muscled, but not bulky, and his usually tall smile was replaced by a stoic expression and dead-set eyes under his clear goggles. He slowly exhaled, puffing out the cheeks of his long, oval-shaped face as he eyed the competition.

Two lanes over from him, in lane four, was the top qualifier of the evening: Alexander Popov, “The Russian Rocket.” An absolute titan of a swimmer, Popov had won gold in every international competition he participated in since 1992—a winning streak that included fifteen European, four Olympic, and three World Championship races. To put it simply, he was unbeatable. Although mild-mannered in his day-to-day life, Popov was known for his ruthlessness in the pool, commenting once in an interview with the New York Times that, “If [up-and-coming swimmers] have a little potential, you must get on top of them and kill that enthusiasm right away so they will lose their interest in swimming.” It’s this drive that still causes many today to consider him the greatest sprinter in all of swimming history.

Popov always swam to win, and on that January day in 1998, he had another gold medal in his sight. It was his race to lose. He knew it. The world knew it. And Bill knew it as well. The only question was how much Bill Pilczuk, a still relatively unknown swimmer from New Jersey, was going to make him fight for it.

Growing up in the beach community of Cape May, New Jersey, Bill had also grown up in the water. After learning to “not drown” in the ocean, Bill’s grandmother suggested that he join a local swim team. He swam two years at the Cape May City Swim Team, then transferred over to the Wildwood Crest Dolphins. To Bill, the change was drastic. “They were a professional team compared to the one I was on,” he said.

Bill continued to swim there and for his high school swim team throughout his early years. He swam any event his team needed to score points, but almost never touched the 50-freestyle, which would eventually become his best event in the future.

Bill Pilczuck (second from the left, inside the boat) poses with some friends before getting interviewed by MTV’s Daisy Fuentes. Cape May, New Jersey, 1990.

Most swimmers that reach the international level of competition are noticed in high school. They are child prodigies. They break National Age Group Records. They are given scholarships to NCAA Division I schools. Bill took a different path. After high school, Bill knew he wanted to continue swimming but had no idea where. When he graduated, he didn’t have times fast enough to go straight to a Division I program, nor the grades to be eligible to compete in his first year of college. He ended up attending Miami Dade Junior College in Florida for the first two years of his collegiate career. Even at the junior college level, Bill was entering a new world of swimming. “I actually didn’t even know a national championship level existed until I got to junior college,” Bill said. “They were like, ‘You ever been to Nationals?’ And I was like, ‘I don’t know what that is.’”

Never mind the fact that he didn’t know what it was, nor the fact that he was the slowest on the team at the start of the season—after his first year at Miami Dade, Bill placed sixth in the 50-freestyle at Junior College Nationals, then went on to win gold his second year. In fact, he swam fast enough to be noticed by David Marsh,a new coach starting his first year at Auburn University in Alabama, a Division I program. At that point, Bill decided he was ready to move on to the next level and he transferred to Auburn the next year.

Due to complications with the date of his graduation from Miami Dade, Bill was forced to redshirt his first year at Auburn, meaning he wasn’t allowed to compete with the team. In fact, due to NCAA eligibility guidelines, he was barely allowed to train with them either. During each practice, Bill had to hop out of the pool, walk over to where his coach would write the workout on the whiteboard, then return to his own lane to train alone, doing his best to follow his teammates from a distance. But competing or not, Bill was determined to keep training to get faster. Much like when he entered Miami Dade, he realized that he was once again the slowest on the team, eighth, out of all the 50-freestylers. That simply wouldn’t do.

At the start of Bill’s junioryear, he was finally allowed to train and compete with the team. He immediately noticed a difference in his training group. “In everything we did, we wanted to beat the guy in front of us,” he said. “Every practice was a competition as opposed to just trying to finish a workout.” And the difference seemed to be working. Although he was only able to qualify for the NCAA National Championships as an alternate, he had moved up to be the fourth fastest on his team by the end of that year.

And so, he continued to train.

It’s in the back of your head. But if you actually did it, it would have been unimaginable because it’s not something you’re actually thinking about.

At the World Swimming Championships, Pilczuck (third from right) stands with other swimmers from around the globe. Perth, Australia, 1998.

The Japanese National Team visits Auburn University in 1996. Left-to-Right, Pilczuck (second from left, in plaid) is pictured with Yoav Bruck, Suzu Chiba, and Takashi Yamamoto.

The Japanese National Team visits Auburn University in 1996. Left-to-Right, Pilczuck (second from left, in plaid) is pictured with Yoav Bruck, Suzu Chiba, and Takashi Yamamoto.

In his final year in college, Bill qualified for Nationals in the 50-freestyle and placed fourth in the country, tying down to the hundredth of a second with his teammate and training partner. From where he had begun his swimming career in Cape May, Bill had come a long way. But he wasn’t done.

Along with the remainder of his training group at Auburn, Bill decided to keep swimming to see how far it could take him. “I had a really good breakthrough year,” Bill said, looking back at his first year as a college graduate. “Immediately that summer, I ended up qualifying for the first national team I was on for the Rome World Championships in 1994.”

According to Bill, his success came because he finally stopped growing and his body was able to develop muscle rather than height. “I was a very slow developer. I have a moped license that I found recently, and I was five feet, six inches when I was fifteen years old. So not a very big guy. And I have team pictures where I’m down to the shoulders of my friends, and now they’re at my ears so I don’t think I finished growing until my senior year in college.” As the common saying goes, Bill was a late bloomer.

Now realizing his potential, Bill set his eye on the 1996 Olympic Trials. In order to qualify for the Olympics, a swimmer must place in the top two of their event. Bill, once again, qualified for the meet in the 50-freestyle, entering with the goal to place in the top eight.

Bill placed third.

Not only that, but he touched the wall five one-hundredths of a second behind the competition, less than half the time it takes the average human to blink. “Obviously, we always want to make a team,” Bill said, looking back on the race. “It’s in the back of your head. But if you actually did it, it would have been unimaginable because it’s not something you’re actually thinking about.” For him, third place and a personal best time were all he could ask for. “Nobody knows what third place feels like. It was really not that big of an issue for me. It’s more of an issue because it’s an issue for other people. I feel kind of awkward when people are like, ‘Oh, you got third, that’s gotta be disappointing.’ And I’m like, ‘Yeah, sure.’”

Bill’s not one to stop and consider “what if.” Instead, he chooses to focus on “what now.” When he sets his mind on a goal, he focuses on it to the point of tuning everything else out, so don’t be offended if you text him and it takes a few days for him to respond. And he’s never been one to follow the traditional path, even in his daily life.

Years after his swimming career had ended, Bill began coaching at the Savannah College of Art and Design. Here, he also found himself helping out with a local club team alongside his fellow coach, Joe Witt. One day, the two of them attended a swim clinic hosted in Atlanta with a group of thirty or so other coaches from the southeastern United States. While walking along the deckof the pool, Bill failed to notice the plastic tarp covering the pool to keep the heat in.

“We all heard the splash,” Joe said. “But by the time we all turned to see what was going on, Bill had jumped out of the water so quickly that he was just standing on the edge of the pool, suddenly soaking wet from the waist down.”

Bill told Joe he was going to change but, never one to follow the traditional path, he returned only fifteen minutes later wearing a pair of khaki pants that ended about halfway down his shin.

“Where did you get those?” Joe asked.

“I walked across the street to the cleaners,” Bill said, a smile on his face. “Someone had left these.”

Back at the World Championships in 1998, many coaches were probably secretly hoping to stumble into the pool themselves because of the heat, but that would have to wait.

The official blew his whistle, indicating for the swimmers to step on the blocks. Popov was the first to step up while Bill was one of the last. While the rest of the competition stood bent over as they awaited command, Bill stood tall, looking forward as he adjusted his goggles, one final act of defiance against the expected.

At last, the official spoke: “Take your mark.”

Beep.

Bill shot off the blocks. He knew that Popov raced to win. So, what if the Russian couldn’t see him? If Bill were to go out fast enough, the swimmer in the lane between him and Popov would block him from his vision. By the time Popov realized what was going on, it would be too late. And so it went.

Bill slammed his hand into the wall 22.29 seconds later, becoming the world champion.

From the beginning of his swimming career to when he decided to look for pants at a dry cleaner, Bill has always broken away from what was expected. He was no child prodigy. He didn’t get picked up by a Division I school out of high school. Instead, he found his own path. A path that led to him breaking yet another tradition, the tradition of another Popov victory. It’s easy for a swimmer, or a person in any field for that matter, to see what is traditionally done and think to themselves that it’s the only way to be successful. But, in reality, there are many paths available to accomplish a goal. Bill is an example of the power of finding your own route to success.

“It hasn’t been easy for Bill,” David Marsh commented in an interview with SwimNews following Bill’s victory. “It’s been something he’s had to work very hard at. He didn’t have the financial support and raw talent of the typical championship swimmer. If he doesn’t accomplish anything beyond winning a world title, he’s already beaten the odds.”

He was no child prodigy. He didn’t get picked up by a Division I school out of high school. Instead, he found his own path.

Pilczuck bends to accept his gold medal at the World Swimming Championships, beating Alex Popov just moments before. Perth, Australia, 1998.