Dear Mr. Phelps,
The shark that beat Michael Phelps responds to his comments in The Washington Post
Michael Phelps spoke about viewers being upset he didn’t share a pool with a shark. Now that shark responds.
I was appalled to learn in The Washington Post that you felt the need to speak to the public about our race on Sunday night. A race I clearly won. I’m dismayed by the falsehoods you told fans in a Facebook Q&A, and against the advice of my legal team I’ve decided to clear the air.
We both know what happened, Michael. In the lead up to the race my camp routinely called for us to share a pool, only to be rebuffed by Team Phelps at every turn. They claimed you were afraid for your safety, characterizing me, a shark, as the bad guy in the contest. We both know how unfair this was. I don’t forget that bottle of 2011 Domaine De La Romanee Conti La Tache we shared after inking the deal with Discovery, or how we talked long into the night about a life of swimming. Evidently you did.
The truth is: You never wanted to see me. This was a scheme hatched between Team Phelps and Discovery to paint you as the hero and me the villain. I had almost no notice or preparation for the race. I was as shocked as everyone to learn on Sunday that you were given flippers. I, per race agreements, swam naked.
I never would have accepted these conditions had I known you were being given an unfair advantage. As a result you only lost our race by two seconds. This has severely damaged my reputation in the aquatic community. My children can’t go to school without being mocked for having a dad who “almost got beat by a land dweller,” and Aquaman conspicuously won’t return my calls anymore.
Even the herd of seals near our house swim close, unafraid, muttering “come and catch us, slowpoke.” Have you ever had your food laugh at you, Mr. Phelps? It doesn’t feel good.
We both know that if you swam naked, as I did, I would have beaten you by at least 10 seconds. This travesty should not be misreported by the Lamestream Media, or perpetuated by you. Keep your medals, enjoy your fleeting glory at almost beating a shark. I know your true colors. They’re not gold. They’re poop-colored. Like poop.
Sincerely,
GW Shark
