The card beside his name said fifty-five. Ivana knew that her partner, Slaven, was forty-nine. They had celebrated his birthday three weeks earlier with a cake that stayed raw in the middle. She assumed his entry had been copied incorrectly and approached the head official before the start. He showed her the electronic form. Slaven had entered the birth year himself.
The adult recreational competition was supposed to be a cheerful Sunday at the indoor pool. Ivana volunteered because the organizers lacked experienced people. The prizes were modest: trophies, towels, and an annual membership. Slaven had trained for months, becoming more serious as his results at work declined. He said that at least in the water he knew where his goal was. Ivana supported the training but hadn't expected the goal to alter somebody's age.
She called him behind the stands. At first, he laughed. Then he said the age groups weren't fair anyway, since some older people had swum all their lives. "Six years won't kill anyone," he added. Ivana replied that he didn't need to explain what nobody would suffer; he needed to correct his entry. Slaven asked to discuss it after the race.
"You'll already have a result by then," she said.
The correction came too late to place him in his own group's earlier race. An organizer offered to let him swim outside the competition. Slaven refused and went to the changing room. Some spectators had heard the argument. An acquaintance told Ivana she could have shown some loyalty. She removed her official badge and handed it to another judge so that the private conflict wouldn't affect later decisions. Then she sat in the last row.
Slaven returned in his swimming trunks and agreed to swim without a ranking. He was slower than in training. Afterwards, they sat in the café with wet bags beneath their feet. He admitted wanting one photograph in which he looked like a winner. Ivana said she had come to watch him but couldn't applaud someone else's place that he had intended to take. She didn't comfort him by promising he would certainly win next time.
The following month, he entered his own group and finished second to last. Ivana wasn't officiating; she stood beside the barrier with his towel. When he emerged, he asked her to photograph him by the results board. The picture showed his full name, correct birth year, and time. He sent it to friends without a joke to explain the defeat beforehand. That evening, they walked home carrying their wet clothes in separate bags.