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May
to stomach Athens
Misty
May now understands how Mark Twain felt when the renown American author,
while touring Europe, heard that he had passed away. Twain fired
off a cable to the Associated Press saying reports of his demise had
been exaggerated. As they are with May. Saturday afternoon,
the Long Beach State volleyball All- American withdrew from the finals
of the AVP's Hermosa Beach Open because she felt a twinge around the
stomach muscle strain she suffered several weeks earlier. It was
widely noted because, after all, this is Misty May, the two- time NCAA
player of the year and one-half of a beach tandem that went unbeaten for
almost a year and was making everyone else in the sport look like they
were running in, well, sand. Monday afternoon, the
official United States Olympic Committee website front page breathlessly
reported that May's injury could KO her from the Olympic Games, which
are less than three weeks away. Not so, says Misty. "I'm fine,"
she said Tuesday. "I just felt a pull and had to decide whether I
wanted to continue to play (in Hermosa) or play it safe. I love
competing, but it wasn't a difficult decision. "People made it
sound worse because they lacked information. I've been doing my therapy
and taking care of it. I could have played, but why take the chance? The
Olympics are a few weeks away. You save everything for the
Olympics." The way things went
down in Hermosa certainly contributed to the speculation. May was
playing for the first time in a month, and she and Kerri Walsh
uncharacteristically lost the first set in three matches. May
often played wearing a brace around her midsection, the kind you see
people with back ailments wear, only turned around. Her decision to pull
out was sudden, around 20 minutes before the start of the final, sending
Association of Volleyball Professionals (AVP) officials into panic mode,
what with NBC televising the final live and a full crowd in the seats. Her partner, Kerri
Walsh, understandably added a layer of concern by saying that they
probably shouldn't have played and that she's considering her options in
a worst-case scenario. As stressful as it may be for May to
overcome her injury, it is unsettling emotionally for Walsh to suddenly
see her Olympic dream trip over the health of her partner. It calls to mind the
bad luck that struck figure skaters Tai Babilonia and Randy Gardner in
the 1980 Olympics. Gardner suffered a groin injury during the Games, was
unable to perform the lifting part of their routine, and a dream was
devastated. Years later, a sense of sadness still envelops the skaters. Four years ago, May
and former partner Holly McPeak launched a late, mad dash to qualify for
the 2000 Olympics, and while they succeeded, May suffered a right
shoulder injury in the run that took away more than half of her
game. She literally could not raise her arm over her shoulder,
which can be a distraction in a sport where jump serves and spikes are
integral. In the tournament they won to clinch their 2000 Olympic berth,
Misty served underhand. A good analogy to May
in 2000 would be a gimpy Kirk Gibson walking to the plate in Game 1 of
the 1988 World Series. "The injury in Sydney was much worse,
definitely," May said when comparing it to her current injury.
"The shoulder limited how much I could swing my arm. This is
nothing like that." Walsh is already off
to Austria for this week's last international tournament before the
Olympics, where she will likely partner again with Rachel Wacholder, who
subbed for May in Saturday's final and who teamed with Walsh twice just
after May's initial strain. May is staying home
to receive treatment and rehab until heading to Athens on August 9, with
her dad Butch and a friend. It means May and
Walsh will have played just once since late June, which isn't your usual
pre- Olympic schedule. The best teams cut down the number of events they
enter but typically like to stay in match shape. No one goes into the
Games with only serious competition in the last six weeks. May does not think
that will be a factor. She and Walsh played and won five matches
Saturday, and any team that goes almost a year without losing (their
streak lasted 11 months) isn't going to lose its muscle memory in six
weeks. "We won our
first matches (in Hermosa)," May said. "Another few weeks off
isn't going to hurt. "I've taken all of the necessary steps
with my therapy, and the time off won't keep us from playing the way we
know we can. It isn't going to stop me." Dozens of athletes
with dozens of injuries say they will rise above the pain to play, but
May is one of the few that can be taken at face value. She has
always had terrific determination and focus. In so many matches at Long
Beach State, she willed the team to victory with a we're-not-losing
mentality, time and again coming through with a dig, or a return, or a
spike when you would think she's out of fuel. Brian Gimmillaro has
had the joy of working with dozens of talented players, but few were as
single-minded and devoted as May, players who were unshakable. In the process of
dominating the beach the last year, Walsh and May took on and beat the
best there are, including their top U.S. foes, McPeak and Elaine Youngs,
and the best of the Brazilian fleet. McPeak and Youngs
both expressed regret that they didn't get to face Misty and Walsh in
the Hermosa finals, mostly because they have yet to beat them in 2004
and they know playing against that duo is a good barometer for their own
medal chances. Walsh knows this,
too. As edgy as she was considering May's status, she knows there's no
one better to have your back. Walsh is playing well
enough now that she would be competitive if she had to partner with
someone from the crowd, but there's no denying that May's ability to
reach balls and set up the lanky Walsh's spikes makes them the team they
are. With May at 75 percent, they're medal-worthy. With her at 90 percent, they're gold medal candidates. But May says you can keep your percentages. She'll be there, and whatever the pain, she can stomach it. |
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