A few weeks ago, I came across an article about how to take steps to combat pandemic rage. Like most issues facing us today, this particular issue is also fueled by social media. For example, when you’ve been staring at your four walls for the past 10 months, and your “friends” are continuously posting photos of themselves dining out and living life like there isn’t a pandemic, well, surprisingly, you may feel a little (or a lot) angry about that.

I have definitely taken some time off social media in the past few weeks. I’m still trying to capture my own memories and moments and silly dog pictures, and of course, had to share a few Bernie memes, but I have tried to get away from the mindless scrolling and acting out the definition of insanity by engaging with internet trolls.

One night, I noticed that I had been tagged in a photo. Now, there are three reasons people tag me on the internet. 1. Someone wants me to buy chicken accessories for G. 2. Someone found bad grammar on the internet. 3. Something happened in the swimming world. Since it was a former swimmer who tagged me, I had a pretty good idea what this tag was about. And, with that one photo, I was reminded that the internet can sometimes be the best place in the world.

She had shared a photo from my first year as a swim coach at Panther Valley High School. Coincidentally, that was the first year in several decades that PV had reopened their swimming pool. The reopening of the pool had been a community effort of grandiose proportions. While I was coaching at a neighboring school district, I was vaguely aware of their efforts. Once I took the job coaching there, I realized just how hard an entire community had worked to make that pool happen.

In my first few weeks on the job, I was continually asked what else the program needed. I cannot start to list the names because there are so many, and I know I can’t possibly list them all, but the people in the community know who they are and what they managed to accomplish. It was like living in a fairy tale. All I had to do was make a wish, and the magic happened. A new record board? Done. A laptop and scoring software? Done. Embroidered warmups for the team? Done.

There is nothing like complete and utter dedication from a community to make you want to produce a win. Talk about the pressure being on. Although people were gracious and understanding, and probably had relatively low expectations of our fledgling program, I wanted to do everything that I could to show them that their support was not misplaced or wasted. Luckily, the universe put together one of the most amazing groups of kids that I’ve ever had the pleasure of coaching.

For a few hours, all the grief and stress usually created by social media melted away, as more and more former swimmers commented on the post. Looking at the group shot, I was amazed at how many of them I still keep in touch with, primarily through Facebook. No fewer than three of them have Ph.D.s, one is an attorney, several are teachers and nurses, a few more are career military, so many of them are now raising their own lovely families, and yes, one of them is a swim coach. Again, I know I will miss someone, so I don’t want to single any one of them out. They were all truly exceptional teammates and have turned into exceptional adults.

That first year of coaching was anything but fun for me. On Meet the Panthers night, I was struck by the very first migraine I’d ever had. I made it through the program choking back vomit the entire time, and as soon as it was done, stumbled into my office and hid in the darkness of the shower stall to try to mitigate the pounding in my head.

Following one of our home meets, it was discovered that the opposing team had stolen several items from our locker room, and I sprinted out of the school and jumped in front of their bus as it tried to leave the parking lot. Not one of the other team’s finer moments, but it was yet another experience that brought our team closer together and made for some good laughs years later.

My demands that kids swim the hardest events were met with resistance because they’d literally never done them before. More than once, I was worried that I would have to make good on my promise to jump in and save them if it was needed. I never did have to, though.

When one of the team members commented that she hadn’t remembered that we’d had a winning season that first year, I also had to laugh. I put blood, sweat and tears into every one of those lineups and while I don’t remember every moment of every meet, I do remember the relief at the final meet which put our girls’ team record at 6-4. Although math is my least favorite subject in general, when it comes to competitive swimming, I become a statistical machine.

It’s hard to believe that was 20 years ago. It is even harder to believe that that beautiful swimming pool is gone. I remember covering the school board meeting when it was announced that they would be closing the pool permanently. Even though it had been years since I coached there, it was like a knife in my heart. It doesn’t surprise me, though, that Panther Valley swimmers are still finding ways to compete and ways to succeed.

On a cold, dreary night in January, when I’m otherwise angry and mad at the world, frustrated that there isn’t much of a light at the end of the tunnel, taking a walk down memory lane with some old friends is as good, and inexpensive, as therapy can get.

Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.