The players clung to the gutter, unwilling or physically unable to climb out of the pool. Like their teary teammates on the deck, they could not believe the bright red numbers on the scoreboard: 5-4.
It was supposed to be the perfect end to a perfect year. The Cardinal had completed the regular season undefeated, the first team in the history of collegiate women's water polo to do so. Led by Brenda Villa, widely considered the game's dominant player, fellow Olympian Ellen Estes and junior goalie Jackie Frank, they entered the sport's first-ever NCAA meet ranked No. 1, expecting to triumph in front of a home crowd. But with 1:28 remaining in the championship game May 13, UCLA--which Stanford had beaten in four previous matches this year--scored the go-ahead goal.
Nevertheless, the Mother's Day crowd that packed Avery Aquatic Center--families, classmates, professors, youngsters holding out posters for autographs, Dollies, Band subversives and the irrepressible Tree--refused to concede, even in defeat. As the cheering continued, the Cardinal women hauled themselves out of the water and began to look up and wave to their supporters in the stands.
"Then we sat down in a circle for a few seconds and J.T. [coach John Tanner] told us to stick together as a team," says Estes, '00. "We knew we'd played a great season, and that one 28-minute period couldn't overshadow that."
Stanford entered the ncaas with a 26-0 record and quickly dispatched Brown University 12-0 in the first game of the two-day competition. But the UCLA rematch was hard-fought from the first whistle. These are, after all, players who describe the sport's appeal with one-word answers: Aggressive. Challenging. Competitive. Physical.
"You're talking about 160-pound girls wrestling and grappling with each other for position underwater, and you end up with a lot of pulling and pushing," says team co-captain Hilary Gallogly, '01. "We all go through about one [bathing] suit per game."
Referees are supposed to call fouls for grabbing and dunking opponents, but it's not always easy to see what's going on. "Our high school pool had a viewing window under the water," says senior Kelly Shouey. "I always thought we could have made a lot of money by selling tickets down there."
The visible game is a sublime combination of strategy, triangulation and finesse. When a player drives down the pool to the opposing goal, she doesn't touch the ball--it's pushed forward in a neon-yellow blur on a bow wave created by her freestyle strokes. When the goalie yells "Ball at three!" defenders at the two-meter mark automatically spin and, with vigorous eggbeater kicks, propel themselves into the air at just the right moment to block an anticipated shot. In a well-officiated match, players rarely look at the referee--they know from the number of tweets and blasts which team has the ball and who's been fouled.
"Water polo is such a frog's-eye view of the world, very different from the perspective of a land sport," says Tanner, '82. "Things happen fast, and when you add in all the splashing and grabbing, being aware of where the ball is requires astute awareness and help from your teammates."
The women's game, a brand-new Olympic and NCAA sport, has seen "phenomenal" growth in the past five years, according to national team head coach Guy Baker, who spoke at a two-day symposium during the tournament, organized by Stanford assistant coach Susan Ortwein. In 1994, club-team players numbered fewer than 2,000 nationwide; today, there are more than 12,000. California high schools lead the pack with almost 400 programs.
So it's not surprising when former Olympic teammates--like UCLA's Coralie Simmons and Robin Beauregard, and Stanford's Estes and Villa--face off, as they did in the championship match.
"Robin and I have been playing against each other since we were 10," Villa, '02, said before the game. "We're always ready to battle it out, but what happens in the water stays in the water." Including, sometimes, disappointed players.
