They’ve Turned Off the Power Struggle : Once Mosby and Hafner Stopped Taking Shots at Each Other, They Became a Team

By now, every mad-dog sports fan in the Valley has heard of the Cal State Northridge volleyball starlets. There’s Heather Hafner, of course, the All-America power hitter who can peel the varnish off the gym floor with one of her no-mercy overhand spikes. She is also highly regarded among her peers for the homemade Hawaiian running shorts that she practically gives away at $12 apiece. And there’s All-America setter Shelli Mosby, who can hang a pass on a string. She is also known for wrapping herself in toilet paper and getting wheeled through airports.

Together for four seasons, these free-spirited big women on campus have led the Lady Matadors to volleyball Valhalla and also cut a swath of fun and frolic from the peaks of Dominguez Hills to the beaches of Waikiki. Mosby and Hafner. Inseparable. Shelli and Heather. Intertwined in CSUN volleyball lore. Roommates on the road. Co-captains. Two-time All-Americans and almost certain to repeat this season. Double death on the court, counting among their accomplishments one NCAA Division II championship and four straight Final Four appearances, including this weekend’s tournament at Portland.

Judging by their affinity for each other both on and off the court, it would seem that Hafner and Mosby have always been soul sisters, friends for life. But the caring and the understanding didn’t really galvanize until this season. Theirs is a relationship that rose from the ashes of a devastating defeat in last season’s NCAA final and grew into true friendship this year when they finally decided to put the team ahead of their own achievements. “Maturity” is what volleyball Coach Walt Ker calls it.

Volleyball wasn’t fun last season for Mosby or Hafner, and fun is something they pursue as passionately as they play the game. Mosby is the more outgoing, a court jester whose tomfoolery makes her the life of the party and the road trip. In addition to her high jinks at airports, she likes to wear disguises almost anywhere. Last spring, she put on a wig over her honey-blonde hair, cat eyeglasses and pink lipstick and went as “Myrtle” to a CSUN basketball tryout. Once, after she burned the burgers at her barbecue, she slid a paper bag over her head and became the unknown hostess.

“Shelli’s a scream,” said her roommate, Tara Flanagan. “She really has a zest for life.”

Hafner almost always appears more serious than Mosby and her sense of humor has a biting edge that people sometimes misunderstand. But she can be a world-class cutup, she said, as long as she doesn’t get caught. When Mosby hijacked an airport luggage cart, it was Hafner who supplied the propulsion, pushing from behind. She is a hell-raiser in private and an instigator who likes to stay in the background and encourage Mosby’s outrageous antics, although, Hafner likes to point out, Mosby doesn’t really need much encouragement.

They met at Northridge. Mosby was a freshman in 1981 and already a star, but not in volleyball. She set a school record on the basketball team with 113 assists as the Lady Matadors’ starting point guard. Ker stole her off the basketball team. The story has been told and retold: Recognizing her raw talent, Ker offered her a volleyball scholarship without ever having seen her play a game. After a year of trying to play both sports, Mosby was told by the basketball coach to choose between them. Ker told her she would make All-America playing for him. She picked volleyball.

Hafner was a volleyball standout in Santa Barbara, leading Bishop Diego Garcia High to three consecutive Southern Section 2-A titles. But, she said, she was “burned out” on volleyball after high school, turned down a few scholarships, took a few junior college courses and worked in a restaurant as an assistant manager. It didn’t take long, she said, to burn out on working. She heard about Northridge from her roommate’s sister, tried out, liked Ker’s low-key program, and picked the Matadors over Loyola Marymount.

Almost from the beginning, there was a rivalry between Hafner and Mosby. Although they played different positions, the court didn’t seem to be big enough for both of them.

“There’s always been a power struggle,” Mosby said. “Heather always played volleyball. She grew up around it and she lives for volleyball. I was a basketball player. She was more aware of techniques while I was still learning. But I’m an athlete, and I learn fast. I guess it was hard to accept when someone was threatening your limelight. It got down to who was the best player, who’d get the most awards and recognition and stories. It was something that never really came out, but you could tell it was there.”

During their first year as teammates, they were playing in a tournament at Fullerton. During a game, Mosby said, Hafner suggested that she set the ball a certain way. Mosby shot back, “Don’t you dare tell me how to run my offense.” Mosby can laugh about it now. “It caused a big argument on the floor,” she said. “Walt had to call a timeout and tell us to knock it off. Heather and I later agreed it was stupid and silly.”

Hafner believes that while her friendship with Mosby has always had its ups and downs, the years have mellowed both of them. “It’s always been like a love-hate relationship,” she said. “We can get along real well but then get totally mad at each other--but it only lasts 15 minutes. We don’t take our disagreements seriously anymore. Two or three years ago, we took things more personally. This year is the closest we’ve ever been.”

Aside from the Fullerton tournament four years ago, the Hafner-Mosby conflict hasn’t erupted into words, at least not on the court, and it hasn’t affected the team’s performance. “If it would have gotten to that point, Walt would have stepped in,” said Kristy Olson, former two-time All-American at CSUN who is Mosby’s best friend and one of Hafner’s four roommates. To most people, Olson said, the conflict “wasn’t real noticeable.”

Ker was in the unenviable position last year of trying to juggle a lot of egos on the team. The Matadors were coming off a championship year. They had four returning starters: Mosby, Hafner, Olson and Linda Nelson. Not only were Mosby and Hafner competing for queen of the hill, but the younger girls were feeling left out and frustrated. For Ker, “it was a bit of a struggle” to make everyone play as a team.

Mosby agreed that she may have caused some of the problems. “I put so much pressure on myself and other people to do good,” she said. “Walt even told me to give them a break. But sometimes you get tunnel vision. My expectations were so high and I got so intense, but I had no right putting so much pressure on everyone else.”

In the CSUN gym recently, Tara Flanagan and Tracy Plum, both members of the CSUN women’s basketball team, were watching volleyball practice. If you don’t think it’s possible to work up a sweat playing volleyball--or if you’re still under the delusion that women don’t sweat--you haven’t seen the Lady Matadors.

During one memorable rally, Hafner stopped a shot with her chest, no mean feat considering that its downward velocity approached Mach 1. The impact knocked her to her knee pads and sent the ball ricocheting crazily toward the ceiling. Mosby settled under it and flicked her wrist. The ball magically changed its trajectory, floating softly to the net. Hafner was back on her feet and met the ball at the top of its arc. Frozen in midair, she swung her right arm and sent an armor-piercing bullet over the net.

“Those two are really competitive,” Flanagan said. But the competitiveness, she pointed out, is no longer with each other. “Last year, if you had an award and dropped it in the middle of the room, both of them would had dived headfirst for it. This year, they’d help each other get it. They know that neither one of them is going to get it without the other.”

That lesson was learned painfully last year. Despite what Ker called “a sensational season,” the Lady Matadors were crushed in three straight games by Portland State in the NCAA final. Mosby felt like putting on her paper bag. She considered graduating and not taking her final year of eligibility. The loss haunted Hafner during the off-season, although she didn’t appear to take it as hard as Mosby. It was after the season that both of them decided to reassess their priorities. They visited the coach.

“They came in individually several times,” Ker said. “They said it wasn’t fun last season, and having a good time is very important to both of them. They were dissatisfied with last year. They wanted to do everything they could to win the national championship this year, and one of those things is leaving out the individual things that had been important to them in the past and making the team their focus.

“We talked about how important it would be for them to set examples this year. I made them co-captains because I wanted them to share responsibilities and the feeling that ‘this is my team.’ Both have made a conscientious effort this year to make it more of a team atmosphere. Neither one of them are angels by any means, but they recognize how important it is get along not only with each other but with everybody on the team.

“There’s an unselfishness there now. Being All-American is important to both of them, but I think they’d trade that for a national championship.”

Ranked No. 1 among Division II teams this season, the Lady Matadors have let the good times roll, especially during their weeklong trip to Hawaii in early September, when they hit the beaches and the bars as well as the balls. Although the drive to win still runs deep, there seems to be a more relaxed feeling on the court this year. In a game, it was not unusual for Mosby to lighten up her teammates with a smart remark. But even though Ker likes his players loose, nothing drove him crazier than the sight of them yukking it up on the court.

“Even in a serious game,” Mosby said, “if something’s funny, I get into it. So Walt will have to call a timeout.” Mosby does her Ker imitation: “ ‘Can we pick up the level of intensity here?’ ”

Ker says he has a teacher-coach relationship with his two All-Americans, and also regards them as his friends. Mosby says the feeling is mutual. “I wanted to learn and he wanted to teach me,” she said. “We’re pretty good friends. I’m not exactly a peach all the time. We argue about certain things, usually philosophy.” She winked. “He thinks there should be rules and I don’t. But he’ll be sorry to see me go. And he’ll miss Heather and her little cracks, too.”

Mosby and Hafner will miss each other, too.

“She’s my closest friend on the team,” Mosby said. “We’ve grown into each other.”