2026 ASCA World Clinic: Small-Group Sessions in the Era of a New Certification System

Orlando, early September. In my mind's eye, I picture swimming coaches leaning forward in a corridor of the Rosen Centre Hotel, taking notes, asking questions — not in a hall of a hundred people, but in a small room where Gregg Troy's voice rings clear like water breaking on a pool's surface at dawn. That is the moment I have been waiting for when reading the announcement of the 2026 ASCA World Clinic. The event runs from September 9 to 12 at the Rosen Centre Hotel in Orlando, with an overarching theme: "Grassroots to Podium: It Starts With Us." More than 60 sessions and approximately 50 speakers will fill four days, but the real highlight lies in the three-hour small-group sessions with Herbie Behm and Gregg Troy — two names representing opposite ends of the coaching spectrum. Behm, who builds coaching philosophy and training plans at the Bolles School in Jacksonville, Florida — one of the most prestigious college preparatory programs in America. Troy, who has spent decades developing swimmers and building successful programs — head coach of the 2026 US Olympic team, guiding names like Ryan Lochte, Caeleb Dressel, and Katie Ledecky. This pairing is no accident: one holds the micro — daily training design; the other holds the macro — program architecture. What stopped me was not the scale of the conference, but the format. Three hours with a small group, where attendees have time to explore ideas, ask questions, and get inside the thinking of masters. This is a structure completely different from traditional presentations — where a speaker stands on stage, addresses a hall of over a hundred people, and ends with applause. I have stood in the emptiest corners of competition venues for years, and I understand the value of silence — where there is no audience, only the breath of the match. This small-group session is the same: no stage, no lights, only direct exchange between teacher and learner. Space is intentionally limited to preserve the small-group format. This is a classic scarcity mechanism — but it also reflects a deeper truth: the value of coaching education lies not in the number of listeners, but in the depth of interaction. A three-hour session with Gregg Troy, where he can look into each person's eyes and answer their questions directly, holds a different value from a mass lecture. But there is another layer of meaning, far larger than these two special sessions. On November 2, ASCA will launch a completely redesigned certification system. This conference is the last chance for coaches to get certified in person before the new system takes effect. This is not just an annual event — it is the bridge between two certification eras, a pivotal transition moment for the American swimming coaching profession. I remember 2026, when the Bundesliga played in empty stadiums and I recorded every sound on the pitch: the ball hitting the turf, the goalkeeper shouting instructions, the cleats scraping with each step. Silence does not lack language — it possesses its own tongue. The ASCA certification system transition is the same: behind the brief announcement lies an entire new structure of fees, requirements, and competency frameworks that the promotional article does not mention. Will coaches holding old certifications be grandfathered? Will they face re-certification fees? These questions go unanswered — and that silence is also a language. From the perspective of someone who has followed swimming for years, I recognize ASCA's strategy: pairing the certification system redesign with the "Grassroots to Podium" theme — elevating the professional status of coaching and institutionalizing continuous professional development. The partnership with Fitter & Faster Swim Camps as presenting sponsor further strengthens this ecosystem: ASCA provides credentialing legitimacy, Fitter & Faster brings grassroots reach. But I also see a gap. The article calls these sessions "invaluable" and "the most valuable three hours" — yet it discloses no detailed curriculum, no maximum participant cap, no testimonials from past conferences. I have learned that the line between empathy and enabling is fragile — and so is the line between promotion and truth. Potential attendees should seek independent reviews before paying the premium for small-group sessions. Kazan taught me that speed knows how to dance. And I believe this transition — from old certification system to new, from mass lectures to small-group sessions — has its own rhythm. The question is not whether ASCA will succeed in raising professional standards, but whether the coaches standing at this crossroads have the courage to step into the small room, sit down, and listen — truly listen — before their certification world changes forever. Because in the emptiness, I hear the breath of the match more clearly. And in those small rooms in Orlando this September, perhaps an entire generation of coaches will find a new breathing rhythm for their careers.