BARCELONA ’92 OLYMPICS / DAY 6 : Sidetracked, They Took Short Cut

The only reason I ever saw to swim fast was if a crocodile was chasing you. The only reason to dive off a high platform into water was if you were on the Titanic.

And I thought the only reason you got your head shaved was if you were entering a monastery in Tibet, going away to do 10-20 for armed robbery or maybe you needed delousing. They used to shave the heads of women accused of collaborating with the Nazis. Yul Brynner did it so he could play Genghis Khan or the King of Siam. I have no idea why Sinead O’Connor does it.

But Steve Timmons of the U.S. Olympic volleyball team is not planning to disappear in the Himalayas, take vows of silence or join an order of Benedictines.

No one ever associated a shaved head with a form of protest, but Timmons and his teammates did this week. This new company of monks is not about to spend its life making vintage brandy or walking around murmuring Rosaries.

They cut their hair off to protest a loss of a match.

The circumstances are the least bit muddy. In the Olympics, they usually are. But the scenario goes something like this: The U.S. team was in a volleyball match against Japan, a team Timmons and his teammates hadn’t lost to since 1981.

The United States was down, 2 games to 1, and behind, 14-13, in the fourth game. For some reason, a referee thought he saw a U.S. middle opposite named Bob Samuelson do something ungentlemanly--something John McEnroe might do in a tight tennis match. So, he threw (waved) a yellow card at him.

Now, a yellow card is a warning. It’s kind of finger-wagging for a volleyist who starts acting like a tennis player, Andre Agassi, let’s say.

But the trouble with this one was it was the second one the referee had thrown at Samuelson. Bob Samuelson is easy to spot. He’s bald and has been since his teens because of a condition that causes hair to fall out prematurely.

Now this second yellow is the equivalent of a red card. A red card means, “Get outta here!” You not only get kicked out of the game, but your team is assessed a point.

Now, in this case, a point meant the match. It would put the Japanese at 15-13. They win.

Only, they didn’t. Because a referee with veto power overlooked the yellow card. He didn’t want an Olympic match decided on a technical foul. It’s as if an NBA final was decided by a basketball official calling a technical foul because Red Auerbach stamped his foot. Referee Ramis Samedov did not want a gold medal to hinge on the fact a sub-official thought he heard a term of non-endearment issuing from a player’s mouth.

The Americans rallied from their perilous position. They won that game, 17-16, and ultimately the match in a fifth game, 16-14.

And then they found out they didn’t win it. The sub-ref protested to the International Volleyball Federation, and its Control Committee voted, 20-0, to reinstate the second yellow (or red) card. Japan was awarded the match.

The American side saw red, all right.

“That’s the first time in almost 12 years I’ve been on a team that lost to Japan,” Timmons was to remember. “And to lose that way was ridiculous. And to have the vote 20-0 was malicious.”

The team felt they had two choices: They could cut their wrists. Or they could cut their hair.

They decided to cut their hair. Not only was this a protest, but it made the whole team look like Bob Samuelson. Presumably, this would spread the yellow flags around.

“We had a meeting,” Timmons said. “We discussed shaving our heads, as a demonstration of solidarity with Bob. Someone said, ‘Well, do we want to go to those extremes?’ So, I said, ‘Go get the razor!’ ”

The result is an Olympic team of players who look as if they should be playing in sandals, a robe with a hood on the back and a rope for a belt. It’s a great part for Yul Brynner--or Telly Savalas.

Part of the protest hinged on the fact that the referee who tried, unsuccessfully, to overrule the petty yellow flag incident is out of the Olympics. Apparently, he got red-flagged, too.

Another result is, you can’t tell one American player from another. Timmons, in particular, had such a trademark head of red hair cut in such a dense crew-cut that one reporter said it looked “like U.S. Open rough.”

Whatever the color or thickness or absence of his hair, you never have any trouble recognizing Steve Timmons on a volleyball court. He’s the best one on it. He might not have the best haircut, but when the ball comes hurtling down from the top of the eight-foot net, an opponent can say, “Oh-oh, Timmons!” They’d recognize that thump anywhere.

Timmons is going after his third consecutive gold medal in the Olympics. So is the American team.

He is 32 and, even bald-pated, he is the most recognizable figure in the game. “Although the other night, someone came up to Scott (Fortune) and said, ‘Steve?’ ” he grins.

You can otherwise tell right away which one is Timmons. He has been a Ty Cobb of this game since college, when he led USC into three consecutive NCAA finals.

He became MVP on the Olympic gold-medal team of 1984. The United States finished ninth, seventh and eighth in three previous Olympics.

Timmons’ red hair was the red in the red, white and blue, so recognizable he named his sporting goods gear after it, Redsand. “Now, we’re bringing out a line called ‘volleybald,’ ” he commercializes. “I’m told volleyball players all over the country are shaving their heads now in sympathy.”

Timmons is probably surprised to find himself a barber in the Olympic Village. His U.S. team, a little long in the tooth, is long on experience. Timmons is like a DiMaggio, a canny old center fielder who always seems to know where--and when--the ball is coming down. When it does, he’s there.

Timmons almost single-handedly turned back a Spanish team that had his U.S. side hanging over the precipice of defeat Thursday. It was Timmons’ know-how and ubiquitousness that turned back the host team after it went ahead, 2 games to 1.

The Italian team is supposed to be the scourge of these Olympics. Deep, young and talented, they have caught the eye of the media.

I’m not so sure about them. They have too much hair.