*** Original Author: NSJBS - Saunders, Jonathan B.;09/19/98 04:30

Hi all, Its good to be back in the states and making money again. What an awesome experience I had over there, I struggled the most in Italy trying to deal with any small matter was a challenge. We played in Fano, Loreto, and against Falconara in Ancona. We won 2 of 3 matches and the agents were fired up on our squad, however I was told not to interested in me. Even though we had some incredible food and were treated extremely well, I was ready to go where I could actually speak to people. So we were off on our 14 hour drive to Holland and stopped at a gas station for food fuel and bathroom. I was excited about the rest of the trip, ie the prospects of playing in Belgium or Holland and to speak english again. I came out of the bathroom and Tim handed m e his cell phone saying" Talk to Morgan he wants you to play in a beach tourney in South Italy."

So I had a decision to make, hang with the boy s and go to Belgium, or take off on my own on a train, meet Morgan in n Cervia and from there travel to Isernia and play beach ball with some random Italian guy. The catchy part was that I was guaranteed prize money and travel expenses paid, plus the adventure factor. I was close to wimping out but decided to take the adventurous route and 15 min later I was on a train to Cervia. I was almost misrouted immediately by a trrack change announced in Italian,but followed the crowd and got on the right train. I changed trains in some tiny town where I met an Italian cyclist who got tired and brought his bike on the train and an old woman who coulnt get over the fact I was an american. I ended up havin g an interesting conversation with the biker who spoke some english and studied electrical engineering at the local college. I helped him with a few english words and he with my very limited itailian. It was kinda nice but he seemed so homosexual. I told myself"oh its just europe" and didnt sweat it anymore.

I reached Cervia before sunset and had a fabulous dinner of pasta,steak tomatoes and cheese with olive oil, beer, bread, more beer, and lemon liquor for desert. Morgan got some locals to drive us to the disco and got us in for free with complememtary drinks as he always seemed to manage. The next morn I hit the town solo and had a huge challenge ahead..... get my phone calls and laundry done before Morgan and Greg woke up. What a challenge! The machine was totally different. If I had been a little more tired I could easily have confused the washer as the dryer and visa versa. Then to get the right bills for the machine so I could get the token, and figure out how to use it. I got the complete rundown in itailan from a woman who passionately wanted to teach me but might as well have spoke Martian. So I got it done for 5 bucks a load and we headed for Isernia.

Life was much easier with Morgan along and I was beginning to see how he thrived in Italy with his good looks, cell phone, boldness, people skills, and a comical combination of English and Itailian that allowed him to communicate quite well. This combined with a genuine love for people and an even deeper love for himself, was a combination for adventure, fun, camaraderie, and lucrative business deals;like this probeach exhibition we were headed for with an eight team field and and 2grand for first place. After being picked up at the train station we drove for 45 min though mountains and valleys aggressively passing trucks and slow cars,routinely forcing oncomming traffic into the shoulder with no apparent reaction other th an the usual Italian intensity found when any native is behind controls of a motor vehicle.

So we reached our destination in record time and I was pleased at the beauty of the scene, there was a single court set up in the center of town with grandstands, tents, a church, a marketpla ce, and scenic mountains with vineyards in the background.I immediately met my partner, an old vulturelike Italian dude, with shoulders hunche d forward and standing 6'0 and weighing in at 145. he spoke some engli sh so that was cool and his name, Dionisio, was easy to remember becaus e I could just call him Dio like Ronnie James Dio of heavy metal fame. He was soft spoken, very mellow, and 34yo. I realized right away I had my work cut out for me, because Id be doing all the blocking and the field included the italian champs, a strong swiss team, the swedish olympi c team, and Morgan and Greg, who had been winning tourneys all summer. We still split 100,000 lira if we went 1-2 barbecue,so I set out to hav e a good time and hopefully pull off a win.

We played the Swiss, Sasha was 6'7' 220 and his partner Stefan 6'4". I didnt have to many blocks and Dio dug a few balls but was far from a power hitter or shot master. So we got hosed down 15 -7 and decided we would practice in the morning a bit so we could hopefully bounce back the next night. So I chilled out and watched the rest of the matches. I felt quite alone, ev though I was surrounded by people and kids wanting my uniform. Play ended around 1am and we went to have dinner at the restaurant. Another great meal, ending with Morgan and an Italian guy playin the guitar while we all sang along. The guy seemed to speak enlish, but I later figured out the most of his vocab was learned by listening to American music, which they all seemed to dig. So we sang Stones tunes, Eagles, pink floyd, and some Itailian folk songs and then finished the night at the outdoor cafe with one last beer.

So far,no shortage of alcohol with wine, beer, and lemon liquor flowing. I was exausted, got a ride b ack to the hotel from one of the crew and crashed out so I could make m y 11am practice. In the morn I made my way back to the tourney site on foot and had a good practice game.We were playing a bit better, and I felt ready to take on the greek team who were average at best. After a long lunch, I hung with Morgan in one of the tents and watched the fi rst few matches. He gave me a cool dive watch from one of his sponsors, Gul Watches, and so I passed on the generosity by giving some of my pro series tank tops away to some aspiring young volleyballers and to Morgan.

Game time came around night fall and the crowd was thickening. I felt strong, full of energy and rhythm, and up for the battle. Dio was pretty mellow but played good enough for us to hang with the Greeks in an hour long battle. I had some 3 or 4 blocks and a few aces, but we were making to many mistakes and found ourselves at 13-13. I got roofed by the 6'6" leaping Greek to make it 14-13 them, and then after a few side outs back and forth, I hit a line shot just out and the match was over. I was really bummed out and considered spliting to Rome as I had been offered a ride and place to crash. The guitar guy from night before was throwing a huge bash at his home so I decided to hang out and watch the rest of the tourney. Morgan and Greg beat the Itailian champs in the finals and split two Grand. After the awards, we headed for the party and I was pleased to find an amazing spread of of good grub including a large luau style stuffed pig, pastas, bread, wine, beer, and champagne.

The house was a twenty room mansion with exquisite art work, and a huge back yard. I was quite comfortable now, people were calling me by name and I was freely speaking english with a few of the more educated townspeople. I ate, drank, and mingled with everyone. We had cake and champagne for dessert and I was coerced into having a shot of grappa by this jolly older guy in a suit. You could tell he had been at the office most of the day and was stoked to be partying with some American volleyball player. I third guy joined us and we laughed at who knows what and had more quality grappa. I was getting kinda buzzed and it was about 330, so I decided to sit down in the living room with some of th e crew from the night before, but I coulnt escape the grappa. Greg came though on his way out and asked me what time my train left. I told him 6am and he said, " Playing though?" I smiled and nodded and he headed out.

I hadnt seen Morgan in hours and figured he had gone home, When someone yelled " JB... Morgan is asking for you" I was lead through the backyard into a dark, extremely smokey sound studio where I found three italians and Morgan jamming. He handed me the microphone and I was beckoned by the crowd of 20 people to sing the Eagles, "Hotel California". So I went for it, with Morgan playing guitar backed up by keyboards and drums. I pulled it off perfectly and was having the time of my life. We sang Stones, Pink floyd, the Doors, The Monkeys, and others until 530 rolled around.

After an expresso and the best chocolate pastry I ever ate, I was off to Rome on a train. The sun was coming up and I felt excited to be heading for Belgium but sad to leave my new friends in Isernia behind. I flew from Rome to Brussels and took a train to Maastrict, Holland. I got in around 8pm missing the team by half hour as they were off to watch Belgium get trounced by the Chek republic. So I hung out at a local watering hole and mingled with some of the students from the university there. After having no success finding an open motel, I crashed out in one of the ball rooms at the Marriot. I was discovered in about 20 min by the bell captain and determined to save myself 230 Gilders, declined getting a room and decided I would rough it. I climbed into the Hotel courtesy van and slept while a violent thunderstorm erupted outside. I woke up three hours later, feeling refreshed and headed for town. It continued to rain on and off, but I got some coffee and a baggette sandwich and waited till about 9am to call Tim.

The boys picked me up around 11 but I was off to Belgium a few hours later for a tryout. I played pretty well, but the team in Leuven needed a big blocker, so I was pretty much out of luck with my 25' standing vertical. Hope you all enjoyed this exert from my Europe adventure. Perhaps I will return next summer, or perhaps I'll be selling pharmaceuticals in the San Fernando Valley. =)

Ciao,

JB

*** Comments From NSJBS - Saunders, Jonathan B.; 09/19/98 04:32