GOALBALL: YOU DON’T HAVE TO SEE IT TO BELIEVE IT!

This is an indoor game played with a ball. There are three players to a side, two wings and the center, who is the primary defensive stopper. The objective of the game is for the thrower, who can be any of the three players, to hurl the ball, in a bowling motion which cannot exceed the waist of the thrower, into the net of the opposite team.  The net is five feet high and covers the width of the court.

The ball of goalball is solid, the size of a basketball, but without air pressure. It feels surprisingly heavy; as I held it briefly in a bowling position, I could envision my long-dormant tennis elbow coming back to life after a single game of goalball. Skilled throwers have a portfolio of deliveries, as does a pitcher in baseball: straight, curved, spinning, fast, slow-all with a quick or methodical wind­ up. Their control is amazing. In contrast, when later in the day, I attempted to flip an errant ball up to me with my toe, the ball instead made a vivid impression on my toe, then climbed a neat little arc and landed in the empty garbage can behind me. Only subsequently did I notice that practiced attendees stopped the ball by propping their entire foot up at a 45-degree angle.

Being slow of mind at times, I still did not pay the ball proper respect. When I put my hand in front of a ball headed to the front row of the bleachers, the ball readily overpowered the concept, and another part of my body was left with a memory of the ball which these players routinely fling back and forth along the floor, most typically being stopped only by the body of the other side. I am told that after the game, there is ice and ibuprofen as a regimen for many of the players, and the necessity is readily understandable. On a rare occasion, a more serious drug might be utilized, but the anti-doping rules of the goalball governing body are extremely strict, far tougher than Major League Baseball for instance.

Each player is outfitted with dark glasses, checked by the referee at the beginning of the game and at the start of the second half.  The referee calls out-of-bounds with a confidence far above his or her peers in any other sport; nonetheless, this does not prevent some players seeking to prevent a goal from sliding so vigorously, because the call has not yet been made, that they crash into the stands, which to be sure are not populated with any celebrities who might have their expensive threads soiled by the sweat of an athlete. When throwing, the hurler typically starts at the goal line, touching the bar as a reference point for the run-up prior to delivering the ball in a bowling motion.

Tape is placed on the basketball court appropriately to cue goalball players as to their positioning. Perhaps that is an innovation which basketball itself could adopt, to enable three-point shooters to never commit the unpardonable sin of being a foot too close to the hoop and thereby reducing the value of their shot by one-third. The court has six sections to it, including a taped line behind which the thrower must release the ball. Halves are seven minutes, except in the semifinals and finals or in international play, when they are ten minutes in duration.  A flip of the coin determines which team gets to choose whether to defend or throw on the game’s initial play.

The defensive movements are balletic, the left and right wings often sliding inward to the court while the critically important center moves in either direction based on her calibration of the ball’s direction, speed, and spin, if any, all of which triggers decisions on when to slide, whether to go completely low or stay relatively high, or in-between. Hockey and soccer goalies go throw a similar thought process. In goalball, the wings are positioned wide and a few feet behind the center’s line in order that they do not crack heads when all three hit the floor simultaneously, which is the normal defensive event.

Many of the goals, which are hard to come by in any event, are scored on bouncers, where the center has not stopped the ball cleanly and completely and it jumps up and over the sliding wingman behind her. If the center is slight of build, and deficient of proper technique, the risk of bouncers, and therefore goals, goes up.

At times, a team will go to the Australian I formation of tennis, with the center behind the thrower. This can backfire, when a quick return, sans wind-up, finds the gap in the defense caused by the out­ of-position thrower. On offense, a double-tap on the floor indicates, “I am ready to throw, give me the darn ball.” It’s a trifle more subtle than the open NBA shooter waving his arms and impatiently demanding the ball from his point guard.

As I watched, I could not help remembering playing in the kitchen of my natal home, more specifically the small rectangular open space adjacent to the table. We were on the floor, sprawling in every direction to prevent the little rubber ball, which we slapped with an open hand, from hitting the wall behind us. My little brother and I were playing our own version of goalball, as did most kids before the advent of video games and a television in every bedroom.

At times, when the action became a little heated, mom had to act the role of referee. Here at the goalball tournament, there are two well-trained referees for each game; they are serious, quick, clear, crisp, concise, communicative, and athletic. There is no show, no preening so that the audience will notice there are referees at work, as there is in the NBA and elsewhere. In fact, the referees assist the players because their “out” calls help the throwers to adjust their deliveries. Numerous volunteers, both on the court and at the officials table, are also involved in making the goalball games run smoothly. As an example, when a ball goes out of bounds, the volunteer returns the ball to play by dropping it on the floor at the feet of the nearest player.

There is a three-minute break at halftime, enough for six 30-second spots if there were any advertisers for this unique sport, but absent such commercial intrusion, the time is used to wipe the sweat, get a drink, talk some strategy, and get ready for the return to the court. Periodically, coaches will call quickie time-outs, provide liquid refreshment to the troops and discuss strategy. Shot distribution, and angles thereof, may be charted if staff is available to do so.

The  Women’s Tournament

It was Saturday, April 2, and I am at the Haddon Township High School in Westmont, New Jersey near Cherry Hill to cover the Northeast Regional Goalball Tournament. At 7:55am, the women’s gym is already buzzing with activity, the athletes warming up for the first contest of this round-robin tournament. The uniforms are colorful, the team names innovative (Chaos, Glasa Tsunami, etc.), and the names of the players are sometimes, but not always, stitched on the back. Both throwing and sliding are being practiced, the prospectively injurious effect of the latter being cushioned by kneepads and protective leg gear, somewhat akin to the way certain major league baseball players come armed to the plate. To be more on point, the similarity would be to hockey goalies, and, in fact, some of the gear is identical to that worn in hockey. The lights in the gym are bright and the electronic scoreboard is ready to function, as presumably are the battery of officials at the scorers’ bench.

The Glasa Tsunami team from Illinois breaks from its pregame huddle with the same shout of “defense” which rocks the crowd, in most years anyway, at Madison Square Garden. The Chaos shout is indecipherable, as befits the team name; actually, it is from the allegedly staid city of Kalamazoo, Michigan. After a few minutes of conventional, and hard, throwing, the team’s  number one thrower, Olympian Asya Miller (aka She-Ra), does a 360-degree turn (on the floor,  not in the air ala the NBA’s Vince Carter) and unleashes a viciously spinning, bouncing ball  which almost eludes the sprawling defender, whose save ensures a 0-0 tie at  halftime.

Immediately upon resuming play, there is a penalty called against a Tsunami thrower for releasing her ball above her waist, and the offending team must defend its goal with a lone defender. Miller cleverly goes to the outermost line and throws a totally straight ball, since the defender has lined up in the middle as required; nonetheless, the stop is made, at the last moment, and the crowd, okay the handful of fans, murmurs in appreciation. Turnabout is fair play, and a penalty is called, but this time, the bulky, less athletic Tsunami defender cannot control the little bounce which occurs after her initial stop, and the first goal of the game is registered. A minute later, at full-strength, she commits the same error, and her coach immediately brings in a substitute.  Chaos wins over a tough opponent, 2-0.

It is game two and the tall Colorado Bandit center, Olympian Jeni (Jennifer) Armbruster, after barely two minutes have elapsed, whips a ball down the middle of the court with a ferocity that is unstoppable. Her power belies the fact that she recently was out for a month with shoulder pain, which she believes is a delayed residual of the problems which necessitated shoulder surgery three years ago. Shortly thereafter, a screwball delivery from her wingmate finds its way into the Western Michigan net and the rout is on, the final score being 9-1.

Jeni has been playing goalball for over 15 years, having moved into the sport after playing basketball, as is true of many goalballers. Born in Taiwan to a military family, she gets restless after three years anywhere and is about to move to Canada from the Olympian residential training facility in Colorado Springs. She has her Master’s and will be pursuing a Massage Therapist License. In Michigan, she helped start a group of sports camps; many of the United States team members were trained at those camps, which have been endorsed by the Department of Education and replicated in a dozen states.

There is hope for a more formal feeder system in goalball, from camps like Jeni’s to state to   region to national, so that, as envisioned by the new Goalball President, Kevin Szott (who wants  to be compared with Yankee owner George Steinbrenner), there would be many, many more people competing for the six Olympic team spots. Goalball now is into the regimen of any other athletic endeavor: drills, weightlifting, cardiovascular workouts; stamina must be high to endure the 4-5 games a day which are normal in tournaments. To balance and augment the competitive environment, Goalball is planning to introduce a draft in 2006, enabling less well-stocked teams   to select players from a designated pool of available athletes.

There is also a move afoot to enable coaches to be vocal during play, on the assumption their   sage advice would be helpful to their players, who presumably would listen with both ears,   unlike their counterparts in other sports stocked with millionaire professional athletes.  The  Florida coach, the bright and affable Jim Crozier, is one of those in favor of more   communication, and encourages his players to talk to each other as much as possible. Like many goalball coaches, he backed into his position (his regular job is “orientation and mobility specialist”) and got hooked  even though the hours become long when you are a counselor, father figure, and coach of young players. If I put my compensation on a per-hour basis, it would be about a nickel,”joked Jim.

New Jersey has taken the court against his Florida team. On her first throw, errant though it is, you could see a different skill level; the player is Olympian Lisa Banta, who was an alternate on the national team in 1996, and a full-fledged team member since. Unfortunately, on the return throw, the ball hit her sliding teammate, bounced, struck the sliding Lisa, and continued into the goal. Shortly, there was another penalty situation, and she stepped confidently to her mark and threw a straight fastball to tie the score.  The home court New Jersey fans hooted and hollered,   as they did two minutes later when she scored again. The enthusiasm is unusual, as most of the fans are quiet at all times, as everybody must be during play  itself.

A minute later, another penalty, another goal. Like Duke University basketballers, the blue-clad New Jersyans reach down and touch the floor to mark their defensive positioning. Unlike Duke, they keep both hands down until making a definitive defensive movement. Up 4-1 at halftime, Lisa comes out throwing lefthanded, to save strain on her right shoulder as she is only 75% back from the latest in her series of injuries and rehab efforts. Like any athlete returning to the court,  she may be healed, but is not fully-ready for game competition. Moreover, the team chemistry, with Lisa as leader, has to be relearned. She switches back to righthanded after Florida scores, then back to lefty.  Occasionally, she tosses a very softly-thrown ball as a change of  pace.

With but a second to go in the contest, Florida ties the score at 4-4 and the unrestrained Crozier, leaps in jubilation; there is a busload of Floridians, as they have both a women’s and men’s team in the tournament, so there is much joy in the stands over this remarkable comeback by the only all- high school squad in the tournament. Lisa slams the floor in frustration, which is heightened    when she fails to get off a final shot (or she was irritated because she could have held the earlier ball longer, to the limit of the 10-second shot clock, which would have deprived Florida of time for their final throw).  Her open mouth  reveals  a red, white, and blue guard for her teeth.

Between games, Lisa is chewing on an energy bar, or is she stewing over the blown lead versus Florida. Itis difficult to tell from her expressionless face, a stark contrast from the perpetual smiles and chatter among the Florida contingent of 27 players, who are from a school where 89% of the graduates go on to college. Excluding this, the audience remains quiet, with cell phones turned off and but a solitary photographer, who takes pictures very selectively.

Starting its second game, the Chaos’ chant has a refrain, “you can’t handle it”. Asya promptly opens the game with a quick goal. She is given a chance a chance to pad what had become a 3-0 lead when a player on the opposing team, from Minnesota, committed a violation by throwing three consecutive times (no feeding the hot man in this sport). Her throw was out-of­ bounds before it even crossed half-court, an uncharacteristic miscue by the tattooed (barbed  wire and cross) Miller.  The final is 5-0, Chaos.

In two games, the Chaos center, Olympian Nicky (Nicole) Buck seemingly has not missed a ball at her defensive center position. Her technique of promptly folding her body over the ball, instead of rigidly providing a ramp that the ball can come up and over, has been flawless. I am told she also has exceptional hearing, but whether this is physical or a function of proper positioning and concentration, is unknown. In talking with her, she corrected my observation about her not missing a ball, in fact, one had eluded her but it had been covered by one of her wings. “That’s my job” (i.e., to stop the throw), which she did with exuberance and great skill, as befits the name on her uniform, Wonderwoman. She constantly called out information for her wings; away from the game, she talked with everybody, at all times, even to the point of being asked by the referee to pipe down on the sidelines.  In the Fall, Nicky, who at 20 years of age has been playing goalball for six years,  will return to Western Michigan University  from Colorado Springs. The third member of Chaos, Susie, is cute as a button, with beautiful braided hair and a sunshine disposition.  Her throwing strength is nonexistent, but this deficiency is  offset by a fearless attitude toward  defending her corner of the goal from her wing position.

When a player on the sidelines doffs her sweaty jersey to reveal a simple black sports bra underneath, there is no peer or crowd reaction, no Nike representative waving a checkbook. She simply replaces her game jersey with a dry version, then with equal aplomb outfits her dog with the harness he had worn to the  tournament.

Colorado opens its second game, against Florida, with a hard throw from Armbruster which not only gets into the goal but also dislodges a piece of tape which is helping to hold the net in place. With seconds to go in the first half, she scores on a completely opposite shot, a soft ball which was easily stoppable except all three defenders had been faked out and there were no bodies in front of the throw. In the second half,Jeni scores on a left-handed  bouncer.  In none of these  cases does Jeni reveal any emotion.  Colorado wins handily, 7-1.

In Lisa’s second game, versus Tsunami, New Jersey again starts behind, giving up an avoidable goal almost immediately. Shortly thereafter, the coach (who is not allowed to yell out suggestions during play) calls a time-out to talk with her threesome, which does not help as another goal is registered against them as soon as play is resumed. Two more center-deflected bouncer goals and New Jersey is hopelessly behind at 4-0. To add insult to injury, after Lisa moved to center from wing, she is called for a penalty and can not stop the ensuing shot.  Tsunami wins   6-1.

In Lisa’s last game of the day, versus Western Michigan, she came out firing, all right-handed , as New Jersey needed a win and a lot of goals, both necessary to overcome the first game late collapse against Florida which had produced a round-robin tie standing between the two. New Jersey was aided considerably by an officially-mandated equipment change for the opponent’s center, which removed an important and unfair advantage the young woman had enjoyed in her prior games.  Lisa first scored on a complete crosscourt shot, the ball just  barely squeezing into  the corner of the net, then fired in a straight one.  The score was quickly Lisa 5, Western  Michigan 0. At the end, the team Florida had beaten 4-1 succumbed to New Jersey 9-0, putting  the latter into the semifinals with Tsunami, Colorado, and   Chaos.

Like her fellow Olympians, Lisa is moving out of Colorado Springs to seek a different environment. In this case, she will go to Tuscon tobe near her boyfriend, Jake, an enthusiastic   and likable guy who is totally into the Goalball scene and wants to get a Master’s in Special Education from the University of Arizona. There, Lisa will continue her four hours/day workout routine, with basketball, one of her favorite sports, thrown in as a break activity. This is an   athlete who, when her ACL blew out, did her lifting and hand bike riding while supported by crutches. In Arizona, Lisa will also seek to put to good use her Bachelor’s in Criminal Justice; ideally she would be “working with young people before bad decisions are made because they are oblivious to the opportunities available to them.”

Unlike many athletes whose names are in front of us every day on ESPN, Lisa wants to make a real difference in the lives of others. Perhaps here, she is following in the footsteps of her mother, who successfully fought for Lisa’s rights in the school system in Boonton, New Jersey, an experience which Lisa looks back upon with fond memories.  She believes that sometimes mothers of her peers are overly protective, not wanting their children to get hurt.  What happens is that they get deprived of the joys  of participating in sports and being supported by  newfound friends who face the same challenges.

Meanwhile, Olympian teammate Asya Miller is preparing for the last game of day one by  listening and moving to the tunes on her I-Pod. The crowd for the goalball match-up would fit in one end row of the NCAA Basketball Final Four taking place at the same time in St. Louis, but  the family camaraderie is comparable with anything demonstrated in the latter. There is also a steady stream of boys/young men wandering in from their court, which at this school is downstairs, and the girls/young women  gravitate in their direction, or is it vice-versa.  They  laugh and flirt and talk about past games and future match-ups and jostle  their friends so they   can take a seat in the first row to absorb the action taking place on the court. A couple of the contestants have brought their pet dogs to the game; the latter are incredibly well-behaved, seemingly totally devoted to their owners.

In this preliminary round-robin version of the championship game, which would be between Colorado and Chaos as the oddsmakers had predicted based on the last several years of these two teams alternating in winning the national title, Asya’s bullet  breaks the unsurprising scoreless tie with thirty seconds left before intermission.. In the second half, Chaos scores, and its 2-0 lead stands until 1:39 is left, when Asya is called for a high ball (release above the waist) and cannot block the ensuing straight throw, delivered with a fancy wind-up by Jeni. With 26 seconds left, Colorado calls a time-out to set up its final plays. To no avail, as at 0:13, Asya throws a bouncing crosscourt shot that finds the net for a 3-1Chaos win. She pumps her fist in triumph, then removes her black skull cap, which nicely matches her bandana and sneakers, to reveal bleached blonde hair.

The Women’s Final Four

It says 8am on the Sunday morning clock, but on the bodies, it is 7am, reflecting the overnight loss of an hour. A monsoon has pounded the area, including the steel roof of the gym, with enough water to float a boat. It is the day after the death of Pope Paul II. Nonetheless, everybody is ready to go. It is tip-off time for the Final Four of Goalball, unimpeded by any commercial messages or other media  imperatives.

In the opener, Colorado systematically beats Tsunami 2-0 on an Armbruster penalty shot and an own goal. Inthe second semifinal, Chaos goes up 3-0 on New Jersey in the first half and   promptly removes Asya to rest her arm for the anticipated  championship game.  She never has   to return  as Chaos easily triumphs,  5-1.

It is, as anticipated, Colorado versus  Chaos for the Goalball Regional  Championship.

The Chaos cheer, as the players  break from their pregame huddle, mentions every team member by name and then adds, for all, in case anybody had  forgotten  their challenge, “you  can’t handle it.” As they go to their positions, Nicky implores her teammates, “no freebies!

Nicky, who normally could talk to a lamppost, had become relatively quiet before the ultimate game, and as the contest began, she was more serious than at any time during the tournament.   The always quiet Susie showed her own form of concentration with a demure, but negative, hand gesture after a throw of hers was called out almost as it left her hand. When Asya was about to take her third consecutive throw, which as noted is not allowed, Nicky loudly called her off, saving a penalty shot which would probably have resulted in an Armbruster goal for Colorado. Repeatedly, Nicky’s forceful sliding stops took her into the vicinity of first-row fans. When Susie saved balls which were wide into the corner, an area which the center has difficulty covering, Nicky  told her, “you  are the Queen!”

Jeni attempted some quick throws, hoping to catch Nicky, Asya, and Susie out of position, but the trio stopped them all. A single goal by the always dangerous Asya was the only scoring as the game wound down. With 0:44 remaining, Colorado called a time-out to set up a play; after it failed, another time-out was called at 0:31. Finally, at 0:18, Colorado made a substitution, its third stoppage of the clock. With seconds left, Chaos rolled a slow ball, and time expired as it made its journey down the court. Chaos again were the Champions.

The Men’s Championship

When I arrived after the conclusion of the women’s tournament, the teams from New Jersey and Florida had just finished regulation time tied at 3-3. The first three-minute sudden death session produced no goals, but a vivid awareness that the men threw significantly harder and covered more of the court with their larger bodies, which they also position more into the court to cut down on the available angles to the throwers . Acrobatic 360-degree shots were common. They also switched positions more readily, attempting to create sudden mismatches, where maybe a hard, spinning ball would be unplayable by the other side.

With 15 seconds left, a bouncing ball goes up and over, rather than into, the New Jersey goal, and half the gym is able to resume breathing.  Still 3-3.

Toward the end of the second three-minute sudden death session, it remained 3-3 as New Jersey called time-out at 0:10. A well-designed play proved fruitless, and now it was Florida’s turn to call time-out, at 0.3.6″, but its play was thwarted as well.

On to the shoot-out, where each of four players (the three already on the court plus one substitute) has a chance to score against a single defender. Florida’s top thrower bombed in a shot right off the bat to make it 4-3, and the Sunshine State contingent went crazy. New Jersey failed in its attempt to match, and repeated that lack of success with its second and third throwers. Now it was up to its substitute, a young-looking, clean-shaven kid last seen flirting in the stands with one of the high school student volunteers.  The chants of the New Jerseyans are matched by the chants of the Floridians.

Super Sub throws, and scores! New Jersey fans stomp their feet and roar their delight. Now, can he stop the last Florida throw and preserve the 4-4 tie.  He does!

Itis on to the sudden death shoot-out; the first team in a one-on-one competition to score wins. The New Jersey thrower looks like a poet refugee from an Irish bar, but when he uncorks his throw, it  is clear he knows what he is doing. Goal! 5-4 for New Jersey. Pandemonium! Now, can the young lad put his body in front of the expected 360-degree bullet from the imposing Floria thrower. Hearts are pounding, including those of first-time observers. He does! Championship to New Jersey! The hero is mobbed by everyone. Alas, the highlight of the men’s goalball championship was not to be seen on ESPN, which is still unaware of this exciting sport.

Chaos and New Jersey-the deserving champions  of the Northeast  Regional Goalball  Tournament.

Author’s Note: I hope from this description of the action involved in the game of goalball, that you, probably a first-time reader of anything relating to goalball, can visualize the action of this athletic endeavor and will want to check it out for yourself and your friends when there is a tournament in your area.

P.S. Did I mention that goalball players are legally blind and that the ball has bells inside it.

 

 

 

 

 

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