Everything you need to know about water polo
Michael Villani
Since I was a young man, I’ve dreamed of being in the Olympics. I’d
watch the games, summer and winter. I’d focus on the “pros,” the
“superstars” at each venue, and say, “Someday I’m going to be right
there.”
Well, after many long years of extremely hard work -- early
mornings, late nights, weekends -- toiling at my craft, guess what?
I’ve finally got my shot. I’m going to the summer Olympics in Athens,
Greece. My sport? Volleyball.
Oh, did I mention I’m not competing? I’m calling the event as the
venue announcer. Those “pros,” those “superstars” I had been
following all these years were the ones behind the microphone.
You see, I’m an actor and voice-over artist out of Los Angeles;
I’ve lived in the Newport Harbor area for the last 30 years.
Three months ago, I got a call from an old friend who was a field
producer at the winter games in Salt Lake City. Over the years, he’d
book me for work or tell me about his latest project.
“I might have something you might be interested in,” he said.
“I’ve just talked to the head of sports presentation in Athens.
“They need a venue announcer for water polo. Interested?”
I said: “Are you kidding? Call her back right now and tell her
yes.”
There was a catch.
“Do you know anything about water polo?” he asked.
“Certainly.” came my confident reply. “The only thing that kind of
confuses me is how do they keep the horses under water so long?”
He didn’t think that was funny.
“Actually,” I quickly assured him, “I don’t have it down cold, but
I’m familiar with it.”
Truthfully, I didn’t know a penalty from an exclusion, but I told
him I would learn. He called her and talked her into hiring me on his
word.
I figured I’d have five months before the games to learn the
sport. Turns out they wanted me in Athens in six weeks to “test” the
venue -- I’d be the one the crowd would hear over the PA system --
and for them to “test” me.
So, with just a few weeks before I went over, I had to really
learn this sport.
The first thing I did was call my old friend Wing Lam, who played
water polo at Estancia High School and then in college down in San
Diego. He suggested I go see Ted Newland, the head water polo coach
at UC Irvine for as long as he could remember.
Ted was kind enough to invite me to his home and talk to me about
the sport. The first thing he said to me was, “Water polo is a lot
like basketball, but under water.”
I knew it wasn’t that simple.
He went on to fill me in on some of the rules and finer nuances of
the game, then suggested I call Barbara Kalbus, a Newport Beach
resident and U.S. men’s team leader, who in turn suggested I go meet
with the head coach of the national team, Ratko Rudic.
The first thing this no-nonsense Croatian asked me? “Do you know
the rules of the game?”
I thought I’d try to break the ice by using my horses under the
water joke, but I immediately thought better of it and said,
“Partially.”
“We must get you a rule book,” he said.
Two days later, a FINA rule book -- the Bible of Olympic water
sports -- came in the mail. I started studying the section on water
polo and became more overwhelmed.
I called Wing back and said, “I need more help, any chance of
going to see a game somewhere?”
The season was over and no one was playing. He called coach John
Carpenter at Estancia, who put together a couple scrimmages with a
few of the guys and girls on the teams. I am extremely grateful for
this, because it gave me an overall look at the basics of the sport.
When it came time to board the plane to Athens, I had familiarized
myself with the rules, and with all the advice I had gotten from
everyone, I felt ready to talk knowledgeably about the sport.
Still, I didn’t know exactly what my duties as “venue announcer”
would be.
At breakfast the first morning, I met my producer, a self-assured
Australian chap named Stewart Firth whose first words to me were: “No
drama mate, you’ll do fine.”
I learned that I would be doing the welcome announce and any
housekeeping remarks, introducing the teams and doing the wrap-ups
after each quarter. Mostly, it all will be scripted and done first in
Greek and then in English. Stewart added they had hired a female
Greek announcer as my counterpart and a Greek rules official to do
the running commentary.
Relief. “Scripted” works for me -- reading a script is what I do.
Piece of cake.
We had two days of rehearsal before the start of an eight-team
competition, called the Greek Games, to decide which Greek team would
represent the country during the Olympics.
After half a day, it was clear that George, the Greek commentator
they had hired, couldn’t string two words together on a microphone.
He was an expert but too slow.
That’s when the “drama” set in.
After a lengthy break, I was told I was going to be the
commentator, as well. My first reaction was to go into panic mode,
and I thought, “I’m a professional, I can do this, and I’ll do it
with the help of hapless George.”
I had Stewart put George on the headphones so he could give me the
call before I repeated it on the mike over the PA system.
That’s what we did for 17 matches, including the finals of the
Greek Games. The series was televised throughout the country with no
play-by-play, just my audio in the background.
The first few games, I made some glaring errors as I learned more
than 100 Greek names, dealt with the speed of the sport and figured
out how to see the numbers on the sides of the players’ caps.
By the time the medal ceremonies came around, everyone was smiling
-- Stewart, the Greek venue officials and the fans -- and I was
reasonably satisfied I had pulled it off.
On the plane home, I reflected on the fact that I had learned more
about water polo in one month than most people who watch the sport
for years.
Two years later, I received my formal invitation from the Athens
Olympic Committee to be the water polo venue announcer. I had passed
the audition.
As I was planning to go to the FINA world league water polo finals
in Long Beach, I got another call from the Games.
How would I like to call indoor volleyball instead of water polo?
It seemed the volleyball announcer was not going to be able to
make it, so now I’m being moved to the Peace and Friendship Stadium
on the coast near Athens.
So my homework has started all over again. I’m meeting with Dan
Glenn, the head volleyball coach at Newport Harbor High School, to
pick his brain about this new, to me, sport.
But rest assured, when I get back on the plane to Athens I will
know everything I need to realize my Olympic dream.
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