Well, no sooner had we gotten to Canada, it seemed, than the day after our victory, we were turning right around and flying back across the Atlantic Ocean for an FIVB tournament in Marseille, France. I had a fleeting thought as I was stepping onto the plane: If only I had a pair of angel’s wings like Mom. . . .
7-15-02
Mom,
Got into Marseille this afternoon from Montreal. It was so nice having Dad at the tournament with me. We had a talk about you and how much we love you and miss your beautiful face. You know what I always wanted to do but forgot? I wanted to get a cool family portrait done, but we never got around to it. Even one with just you and me would have been awesome.
My sinuses were so bad on the plane today. Usually, I would call you and tell you about it, but you were there with me. I thank you so much for teaching me about how important knowing yourself is. You taught me to listen and feel the natural world, but also to cherish time alone. I like being by myself, except when the people I really care about and love are around. I don’t need anybody to make me happy.
I slept most of the day. We went to our meeting, and we play at 9:50 A.M. You will be there, right? I would pull out the extra bed but we can both fit on my single here. I want to be close to you and feel your arms and love surround me. Mom, I want to play well tomorrow and break out of this offensive slump. Please cheer me on and watch over me. …
7-19-02
Mom,
. . . I went to Saint-Tropez yesterday. Boy, the yachts were amazing. It reminded me of somewhere we would have visited on our cruises with Grandma and Grandpa. I watched Life Is Beautiful last night. What a great movie. Oh, Dad had told me to watch this movie, Dragonfly, and I saw it on one of our flights. It is a story about a grieving doctor being contacted by his late wife through his parents’ near-death experience. His wife had a passion for dragonflies, and they’re the recurring theme. Anyways, in Saint-Tropez, I bought a dragonfly necklace. You are our dragonfly!
Kerri and I finished second in Marseille, losing in the final to Holly and E.Y. From there, it was on to Rhodes, Greece, where we were seeded first. Truth be told, I was looking past this tournament because the following week was my birthday, and Dad had promised to meet me at the next FIVB stop in Klagenfurt, Austria. I couldn’t wait to see him. I missed him very much. I knew it was going to be an emotional time, my first birthday without Mom, and I didn’t want to be alone that day. Dad didn’t want me to be alone, either. And, quite frankly, we were so used to celebrating birthdays as a family, as the Three Musketeers, I don’t think he wanted to be by himself.
7-25-02
Mom,
Sorry I haven’t written in a while, but I probably should have. I have just been pretty flat, but there are only four weeks left in the long part of the season. It just isn’t the same without you being at home. I wondered today if you were able to hear the letter I wrote to you in San Luis Obispo, the one I read at your memorial service. I hope so! If not, then, I am very upset at myself. I should have told you how sorry I was to ever be a problem and get mad at you. Mom, you were such a giver and only asked for respect and love in return. I think that I took a lot. I did love you, but now I realize I should have given more. Mom, you instilled in me to give. There is so much that I want to do when I get home.
I am going to start by going to your favorite thrift store to volunteer a couple hours each week. Mom, I want to make you proud not only on the court, but off as well. I am just at the point where winning is not the same as losing, but the emotions that follow the win are not there. What do I do? Well, this tournament. You have to schedule your time with the thrift shop during my matches, so I can concentrate and play. Or you can sit up in the stands and tease me with a crepe in your hand. Mom, watch over me tomorrow and yell at me to kick butt!
We laid a big, fat egg in Rhodes, knocked out in four matches. A wave of emotion came over me afterward, and Kerri now says it opened her eyes to my grief. Suddenly, and inexplicably, she recalls, I burst into tears. She says she was confused at first, thinking, “Why is Misty crying over a ninth-place finish?” So she tried comforting me, saying, “Misty, I know we lost, but we’ll come back.”
When I didn’t stop crying, that’s when Kerri said something inside her clicked. She’s a very smart girl. She began to realize I hadn’t been expressing all of my emotions to her that summer, that I’d kept her in the dark about how I was feeling. She started to understand I’d stuffed my grief in the back of my mind. And then, suddenly, all my sadness just came pouring out, like a stream of lava surging from an erupting volcano.
Kerri tried to get me to talk about what was going on inside, but sharing feelings isn’t something that has ever come easily to me. I’m sure my being so closed off with Kerri was frustrating to her. And foreign. Kerri was the complete opposite—her emotions were right under the skin. One of the things I didn’t have the heart to tell Kerri that night was that I wasn’t devastated about finishing ninth. Mom’s death had radically changed my perspective on winning and losing. If I didn’t win, it was no big deal. I’d tell myself, “At least I’ve got my health.” If I won, it was no big deal either. I realized that win or lose, I could enjoy life in ways I hadn’t before her death.
Mom’s passing taught me to appreciate little things like feeling the sun on my face and seeing the stars in the sky, like the ceiling I’d made in my childhood bedroom. It also taught me to appreciate big things like having family and friends who loved me. Most important, Mom’s death had brought Dad and me closer together. It had also brought me closer to my half brothers Brack and Scott. The Sydney Olympics had brought them back into my life, thanks in large part to Mom’s realizing how sick she was and understanding the importance of including them in that trip. And from that point forward, I’d made an effort to reconnect and stay close to my entire family.
And that’s why, several hours after my post-match meltdown, I fell apart again. I had received the news that Dad wasn’t going to make the trip to Klagenfurt, Austria. He was en route to the Los Angeles airport when his pal Jim Steele asked which airline he was flying. Dad pulled out his ticket and realized he’d missed his flight. It had departed the day before. He tried to change his ticket at the airport, but it would’ve cost him thousands of dollars, so he opted not to come to Austria for my birthday. I can’t tell you how heartbroken I was. I tried calling Dad at his house, but he already was at the beach, playing volleyball. When I finally reached Dad, he said, “Oh, sorry . . .” And I hung up on him.
7-30-02
Mom,
I am very upset. I was so looking forward to seeing Dad here in Klagenfurt. I kept my eyes peeled for him at the airport, and I told everyone he was coming for my birthday. I remember this time last year, you called and made Jodie buy me little knickknacks. Mom, I love you, and you never forgot about me. Dad missed his flight, and so he isn’t coming at all. I am very depressed and upset about the whole thing. What is there to say though?
I am listening to Andrea Bocelli’s “The Prayer” while writing this. I will write more later. I love you!!!
From that point on, I was hooked on “The Prayer,” an Andrea Bocelli and Céline Dion duet. I listened to it over and over. I memorized the lyrics, both in English and in Italian. I always could feel the words pulsating up through my veins from somewhere deep inside. I always could feel Mom’s presence surrounding me.
I pray you’ll be our eyes, and watch us where we go
And help us to be wise, in times when we don’t know . . .
The lyrics, by David Foster and Carole Bayer Sager, really spoke to me. Now, I’m not sure I could’ve gotten through the 2002 FIVB season if I hadn’t had “The Prayer” to guide me. It was a great way for me to talk to Mom without having to open my journal. It summoned her up in an effortless way, like waving a magic wand.
8-01-02
Momma,
. . . In my last entry, I was really upset with Dad for not making it to Austria. So many people called me earl
y that morning, E.T., Scott, Linda, and Amy. Scott was really upset and wanted to yell at Dad. He said he could understand Dad doing something like that to Brack and him, but not to me. We feel that Dad is just very incompetent without you around because you always did everything. Plus, this is so new to him that he just needs to organize. When I get back in two weeks, I’m going to sit down and organize everything with him. That will make it easier I believe. …
For my birthday, I got new necklaces, some games, gift certificates. I am really excited because Kerri’s mom got me a shorter/thicker gold chain so I can wear your cross when I play. Before I was wearing your gold chain, which I love, but it is very thin and long and it looked like it would break.
I talk to Dad every day. Oh, back to that. So I was mad at Dad, but it lasted just a short time. I found out he has been sick, and he also felt really upset about it, too. I let it go, and I told him it was okay. You can’t stay upset because it will eat you up, but also life is too short and you don’t know what will happen. Dad is all I have, and he has only me, so we have got to stick together.
We love you Mom. Dad sent me my China tickets, hot socks, and ice bags, along with a birthday card from you and him. It said:
I will love you life after life . . .
I will love you age after age . . .
I will love you forever . . .
Kerri and I ended up winning in Klagenfurt. Andrea Bocelli and Céline Dion were huge inspirations. Thanks, Andrea! Thanks, Céline! It was a big win for me because it showed me that, with the help of prayers and talking through my feelings with Mom and Dad, I could pull myself up out of dark moments. Now, it was off to the Far East.
8-07-02
Mom,
I can’t stop thinking about you. Dad told me to go out and buy Andrea Bocelli’s Sogno (Dream)—I bought it in Greece. I am so glad that I did.
This is where I wait for you
Stealing imaginary kisses as time goes by . . .
Your spirit is in his songs, especially “The Prayer.” I listen to them every night while going to bed. Now, I am sitting on Austrian Airways, headed for Japan with Yanni in my ears. . . . As we are flying, I have a window seat. I haven’t looked out the window at all, but just now I finally did. The sky was pitch black, and I could see so many stars. Then, there you were. You were so bright, wavering just above the tip of the wing. You were by the plane the whole way, weren’t you? You always are looking out for me, no matter how high or low I will go. I wanted to crawl out of the small, double-thickness window and onto the wing. There I would fight the strong forces of wind and start walking away from the plane to the wing’s edge. I see your hand reaching out, so I grasp on. Up goes my body. My Nike shoes no longer resting on the metal wing. Away we drift, hand in hand. No fear through the blackness, encircling the other stars, my family. Your energy flows through your touch, and I remember the good times well, and only hold glimpses of the bad ones. We glide, soaring together again!!
We often live life complaining, and reflecting on all of the bad that surrounds us. We often forget to reminisce about the good times. Taking things for granted is an anchor that most of us carry around with us. Life is good!! When we truly are living we have cut away the anchor and allow ourselves to float freely among the stars.
Life is way too short to waste energy on stupid things.
I love you Mom and can’t wait to see you in my dreams!
8-08-02
Mom,
. . . I travel with two pictures, one of our family—Dad, you and me—the other is one taken at Long Beach State, and it is just you and me. Your hair is in pigtails. It is cute. You know how I used to make fun of your outfits? Forget it! You looked great, just the way you were. … Are you playing volleyball up there?
8-10-02
Momma,
Still in Japan. Only ten more days until I get home! I don’t cuss anymore, but GOD DAMN IT! It feels like a dream. I want to get pinched, wake up, and know that you will be home waiting for me . . . I have only half of my heart because you took the other half with you . . . I just want to be hugged by you one more time, lie next to you one more time, kiss you one more time, show my appreciation for you one more time, thank you one more time, and say I LOVE YOU one more time! See you in my dreams!!!
Kerri and I finished third in Osaka. After that, it was off to Maoming, China, where we beat Shelda and Adriana in the semis, and Holly and E.Y. in the final. Both were over in less than an hour. We had a two-week break, and I was looking forward to being home in Long Beach, sleeping in my own bed, getting a bikini wax, indulging myself in Starbucks vanilla lattes, and hanging out with Dad.
8-26-02
Hi, Mama,
I am so glad to be back home. Everything is great except you are not physically with us here. I saw Dr. Morrison, he asked how you were. Mom, you touched so many people, I miss you so so so so so much. I just wish that you would come back from your vacation. PLEASE! Well, Dr. Morrison doesn’t think the tremor in my hand is Parkinson’s disease, which is great!!!
Our final two FIVB tour stops were in Mallorca, Spain, and Vitoria, Brazil, and we took second in both. We ended up winning five of eleven events, earning $195,140. My share was $97,570, and I racked up 1,535 Olympic qualifying points. We were number one in the world. What were all those so-called beach volleyball experts, who’d questioned why I’d trade Holly for Kerri, saying now? That no two players in U.S. history ever had had a quicker rise to the top!
15
BUILDING OUR RÉSUMÉ
Winning breeds winning, Dad and Mom always taught me.
In 2003, Kerri and I set even higher goals for ourselves. We wanted to be number one on both the FIVB and AVP tours. Lofty aspirations? Perhaps, but we knew we weren’t anywhere near our peak.
We hired Dane Selznick to be our coach. He’d taken two U.S. beach volleyball teams to the Olympics—Linda Hanley and Barbra Fontana Harris, fourth in Atlanta in 1996, and Rob Heidger and Kevin Wong, fifth in Sydney in 2000. His father Gene was Holly’s and my coach in 2000.
Dane has known my family since before I was born. (He’s twenty-one years older than I.) He’d played beach volleyball back in the day, and he was a defensive guru. He grew up playing the game, just like me. When Dane was fifteen, he used to substitute for Dad on Wilt Chamberlain’s Big Dippers team. He’d patterned his game after Dad’s, and he’d picked up a lot of Dad’s nuances.
Dane drilled us hard. We practiced almost every day in the off-season, and two or three days during the season, for at least two hours at a time. Since we already were elite athletes, Dane concentrated on helping us evolve from a somewhat new team into a veteran partnership. He fine-tuned the technical aspects of our game. He got right in there and played with us. We’d often train against male pros, which made all the difference. Dane also gave private lessons, and if he was working with his male clients after our sessions, they’d jump into our drills. One of those guys was Kerri’s significant other, Casey. Playing against men greatly improved our skills.
But Dane didn’t practice only positive scenarios, those that gave us the best vision of the court, allowed us to stay behind the ball and be as strong as possible for the finish. He’d hammer home his mantra: “The best players are those who can get out of trouble.” Therefore, he had us practice negative scenarios. Getting out of trouble has a lot to do with knowing how your partner thinks, plays, and executes certain skills, as well as how well the two of you communicate. I give Dane a lot of credit for developing the early Misty-Kerri chemistry, for getting us to work together in every possible situation. Eventually, Dane got us to the point where the game became totally instinctive every time the ball was in the air. I felt as if we both could play blindfolded, and each of us would still know where the other, and the ball, would be at all times.
Dane kept practice light, pumping out old school rock and roll, 1970s stuff. I’d always protest, and change the station on him, flipping on hip-hop. The music, and the kidding around, helped brea
k the monotony. Having Dane as our coach, not only to train us, but to travel to tournaments and devise game plans, was a huge plus. It was great having somebody else focus on volleyball, so that we didn’t have to worry about what we were doing wrong. It was wonderful having Dane videotape practices and games, so we didn’t have to rely on Dad or our friends to do that.
Because we were focused on the 2004 Olympics, Kerri and I had played exclusively overseas in 2001 and 2002. The FIVB tour had the toughest competition—all of the world’s best female teams played there—plus it was where we’d eventually have to qualify for the Athens Games. We wanted to have as much exposure as possible to the teams we’d likely meet in Greece. But in 2003, we decided to add eight domestic events, sandwiched around the front and back ends of our hectic international schedule. We wanted to get back to the Southern California roots of beach volleyball, and we were looking forward to playing in front of family, friends, and U.S. fans. We won all eight AVP tournaments we entered, the first team to go through an AVP season undefeated. The only 2003 AVP event we didn’t win was the one we didn’t enter because we were competing in an FIVB event in Rhodes, Greece. But don’t draw the conclusion that the AVP tour was easy for us. The top U.S. teams—Holly McPeak and Elaine Youngs, and Annett Davis and Jenny Johnson Jordan—weren’t cupcakes. We always seemed to be engaged in three-game battles with them. When all was said and done, we posted a 39–0 match record and won $143,100. Simply put, it was the most dominant season in U.S. women’s professional beach volleyball history.
In early June 2003, we headed off to Europe for five weeks. Our FIVB road trip began in Greece, where we were seeded first, but finished a disappointing third. We ran up against an explosive Brazilian team, fifth-seeded Sandra Pires and Ana Paula Connelly, in the semifinals, losing, 14–21, 19–21, in forty-two minutes. Although they were a new partnership, Sandra and Ana Paula had a lot of international experience, and both were veterans of two Olympics. At the 1996 Atlanta Olympics, Sandra teamed with Jackie Silva to win the gold medal in the debut of beach volleyball. In 2000, in Sydney, she teamed with Adriana Samuel to win the bronze. Meanwhile, Ana Paula, one of the most lethal servers in beach volleyball, had come from an indoor background. She participated in the 1992 Barcelona Olympics, then helped Brazil to a bronze in Atlanta four years later.
Misty Page 20