Commentary : In an Instant, There Was Fame, but It Is Pride That Will Last Forever

It happened in an instant. Scott Fortune smacked the ball to the floor to touch off a jumping and arm-waving celebration by the U.S. volleyball team while my wife and I watched with other parents in the Seoul gymnasium.

That final point in the match with the Soivet Union meant another Olympic Games gold medal for the United States, and it brought Scott, our son, a greater measure of fame than he has known before.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Here are the final rankings,” the announcer said over our hugs, kisses and exclamations. “In first place and Olympic champions--U.S.A.”

The Koreans rolled out a red carpet for the medal ceremony. An eight-trumpeter fanfare announced the winning team. The twelve Southern Californians who make up the U.S. squad, beach boys all, wore smart white warm-ups with red and blue trim. They walked jauntily, no longer pressured to win.

Scott stood tall with the others on the victory stand, waving at the crowd, soaking in the thrill. I kept him focused in my camera viewfinder and snapped photo after photo.

Soon he had a gold medal around his neck and a floral spray in hand. I watched him sing the National Anthem as the Stars and Stripes was hoisted upward. I sang too and was very proud.

Scott had supposed his Olympic highlights would remain those from the Argentina match the week before. He had come off the bench and helped spark the team to a 3-2, come-from-behind victory when it was already down, two games to none. Coach Marv Dunphy selected him as one of the two players for the postgame press conference.

Only four days before the gold medal match, Scott had felt so sick that he had a blood test for appendicitis. It turned out to be only food poisoning or stomach flu, but he was weakened and hadn’t played at all in the subsequent match with Brazil. “Thank goodness they didn’t need me today,” he said right after that semifinal.

In the final with the Soviets, Scott jogged in place to keep loose and applauded from the sideline. His playing opportunities came briefly at the end of the third and fourth games. At match point a Soviet defender errantly returned an Eric Sato jump serve. It was supposed to be a pass to the setter but the ball sailed across the net where Number 8, Scott Fortune, met it in mid-flight. And the gold was theirs.

That culminating play was shown over and over on television and predictably will continue to be shown from now until the Barcelona Olympics in 1992. In the hours and days that followed, every time Scott turned around someone was congratulating him on it.

“I’m so lucky, but I feel sorry for Doug,” Scott commented. Doug Partie is the regular middle blocker whom he had replaced on the court. It’s Scott’s way to be self-effacing and concerned about teammates’ feelings. And I’m proud of that too.

Scott and the other players expect the coverage that NBC-TV gave to men’s volleyball this Olympics to help the game grow in popularity. The second most popular sport in the world, behind soccer, volleyball is not that well known in the United States except along our beaches.

Certainly, the coverage permitted all Scott’s friends to see him play. Arriving home in Three Arch Bay, South Laguna, we were greeted by huge banners at the community entrance. Kids rang the doorbell to get a peek at the medal and have a picture taken with him.

Celebrity surely will follow him to Stanford, where he returns for his senior year, ready to play for his college team once again and work toward his degree in economics.

His decision last year to join the National Team training program in San Diego and postpone graduation wasn’t particularly difficult. Scott had already proven in two summers of practice, travel and international competition that he had a solid chance of making the squad, which was expected to win the gold. The U.S. team has been on top of the volleyball world since the 1984 Olympics in Los Angeles, when it won its first gold medal.

As players retire, Scott, who is 22, is positioned to play a vital role in the national team’s future.

Our son has reached these heights because of his determination and hard work. Coaches, including myself, have admired him for his persistence and discipline. Every year in every sport, there was marked improvement in Scott’s ability.

Through high school, Scott lifted weights and built strength on a slim frame that had earned him the nickname “Bones.” He grew to be 6-foot-6 and, although the tallest on his basketball squad, he played point guard because of his passing and leadership abilities.

Volleyball was the biggest sport at Laguna Beach High, however, and after playing on two CIF championship teams, Scott in his senior year became every college’s top recruit.

As a student, Scott took all of the toughest courses, studied hard and compiled a 3.95 grade-point average. He chose the least of the volleyball powers, Stanford, for academic considerations.

That summer, on an all-star volleyball squad representing the United States, he was the only American to make the all-tournament team in the Pacific Rim tournament at Taipei, Taiwan. In his very first college competition, he helped Stanford win a 20-team tournament at Santa Barbara and once again was an all-tournament selection. It went on from there. All-American, repeat All-American, his national team tryout. . . .

When he knocked down that last kill against the Soviets, thousands recognized him and took notice. In reality, his achievements have piled up for years and brought him to the moment when he would make the big play at the right time on the television screen of millions of viewers.

He’s my son. Am I proud? Do I love him? You bet I do.