Over the past seven years, my teenager has made many friends from all the different locations that his swim team offers training at. At any given time he’s with a group of friends walking around and catching up. He’s also the biggest cheerleader for his friends, sometimes even the only one. Once he was cheering someone on just because he’d seen him in his school earlier in the week and didn’t seem like he knew anyone else on the team (side story — now, nearly two years later, the two are best friends).

This past swim season, however, the tables were turned. At the end of a long weekend of swimming at nobody’s favorite pool, everyone was exhausted. It was the very last event on a cold and wintry Sunday night, and it was one of the longer distance events — not his favorite by a long shot, especially not his favorite to swim right after he’d raced his heart out in a sprint event that came right before.

There were just a few parents in the bleachers and just as many swimmers left. There was really no reason for anyone not swimming that last event to hang around—I’m sure warm baths, hot dinners and cozy beds beckoned.

But a whole bunch of my son’s teammates did.

Before the race began, they gave him strategies (including trying to shut down an effort to go all out in the first leg). They stood at the opposite wall from the starting blocks and cheered at the top of their lungs. And right after, when he wearily climbed out of the pool, they hi-fived and debriefed him all at the same time.

Quite often, swim team becomes all about times and cuts and whether the kids swam their personal best or not. But I know for sure that twenty years from now I won’t remember any of those numbers. I will remember that a whole bunch of kids stayed back and waited for their friend.