Net Effect: Irony

The breeze wafting Friday off the aqua sea carried the unmistakable sounds of a big-time volleyball tournament into Donley Falkenstien’s house: Referees’ whistles. A pumped-up public address announcer. Rock ‘n’ roll music.

On the sand a mere four blocks away loomed a grand vision of commerce: bleachers for 4,000 fannies. Two enormous inflated volleyballs, one advertising beer, the other sporting goods. Plus one huge inflated rubberized camera.

Not to mention signs hawking watches, cars, motorcycles, sunglasses and suntan lotion.

And all of it a reminder of that classic aphorism: That’s the way the ball bounces.

Falkenstien, a 37-year-old technical writer turned community activist, led the fight to keep the annual Assn. of Volleyball Professionals tournament out of Manhattan Beach because of noise and traffic concerns--only to see the tour encamp instead for the weekend a three-minute walk from his own rented house in Hermosa Beach.

The ironic, in-your-face turnabout occurred after Falkenstien’s grass-roots coalition, the South Bay Coastal Defense Alliance, unexpectedly executed a series of complicated legal maneuvers that surprised a good many South Bay officials, tour promoters and volleyball fans.

First, the alliance helped successfully lobby the California Coastal Commission to bar paid admissions to a summertime event on a public beach after the tournament tried to increase the number of seats for which it charged. Then the alliance filed a lawsuit and convinced a Los Angeles Superior Court judge to issue an injunction temporarily barring the Manhattan Beach Open altogether because of environmental concerns.

In the aftermath, a writer to a local weekly newspaper described Falkenstien--and the alliance--as “downtrodden beach bums,” “rats,” “rebels without a clue” and “misguided misfits.” The letter also said: “They should be run out of town by every resident that loves the South Bay.”

Meanwhile, forced off the Manhattan Beach sand, the volleyball association pulled its own deft moves, switching the tourney one pier south to Hermosa. It renamed the tournament the Miller Lite/AVP Hermosa Beach Grand Slam, which is offering free admission.

Tour officials took these steps knowing full well that the volleyball association is due back in Hermosa Beach for another tournament in July, and might yet make it back to Manhattan Beach later in the year, perhaps after Labor Day.

Falkenstien said Friday that he was not amused by what he deemed a corporate and civic power play. He fumed, “What has happened here is these corporations have been enthroned on our public beaches.”

In a reference to the dark clouds that had appeared early Friday morning before giving way to glorious blue skies, he continued, “Too bad it didn’t rain on their parade. Whatever. Now we can further study the impact of this tournament.”

On Friday, the impact seemed clear enough.

Hermosa Beach was packed with traffic and crowds celebrating the unofficial kickoff of summer.

“Business is great,” said Brian Beckman, 32, the manager of Hennessey’s Tavern on the Strand by the Hermosa pier, juggling three phone calls while setting up extra plastic tables and chairs outside.

“Welcome Volleyball Players!” proclaimed the sign at Critters, another bar by the beach in Hermosa.

A mile north in Manhattan Beach, the surf lapped gently at the shore by the pier. Two blocks up the hill, a few people strolled around downtown. Parking was wide open.

At the Maui Beach Cafe on Manhattan Avenue--where the menu touts such delicacies as tea-smoked duck pot stickers--owner Jeffrey Knight bristled with frustration.

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The restaurant, Knight said, had timed its opening to coincide with the volleyball tournament by the Manhattan Beach Pier, expecting a “three- or four-day windfall” from hungry fans. Six customers were there at noon Friday.

“It’s the equivalent of someone taking your Christmas away,” Knight said.

Frustration ran high as well among the fans in the stands in Hermosa Beach and among the players on the tour.

The tournament had been a mainstay of the Manhattan Beach calendar since 1960.

“It’s terrible that it’s in Hermosa,” said Frank Sillman, 33, a banker who lives in Manhattan Beach, sitting in the stands with his wife, Michelle, 32, another banker. “After all these years in Manhattan, we miss it.”

“Plus,” he said later, “it’s a longer walk for us. Well, actually, we drove.”

Dubbed the Wimbledon of the sand, the Manhattan Beach tournament is widely credited with helping turn beach volleyball into an Olympic sport and a major TV event.

Mike Dodd, a five-time Manhattan Beach tournament winner as well as the 1996 Olympic silver medalist, who grew up in that city, said:

“I don’t see one citizen getting the Masters tournament kicked out of Augusta [Ga.], or one citizen getting Wimbledon kicked out of England.

“Granted, we’re not tennis or golf,” Dodd said. But it’s the same point. And beach volleyball means every bit as much to the people in this town as tennis or golf do to the people in those other areas.

“I think,” said Dodd, “it’s a matter of one guy wanting his 15 seconds of fame.”

Not true, Falkenstien said. Sitting in his house, surrounded by Grateful Dead memorabilia, a John Lennon poster, a map of Baja California and fliers proclaiming, “Sand is sacred,” he said he was not on some long, strange trip.

The volleyball association, he insisted, is intent on “an unfriendly corporate takeover of the beach.” His goal, he said, is “protecting natural resources.”

He said he’s mystified at the personal attacks. And he vowed to press on.

Next Tuesday, for instance, the alliance is due back in Superior Court in downtown Los Angeles to post a bond required by Judge Robert O’Brien to protect the volleyball group’s potential losses.

Last week, the alliance offered to back the bond with assets including living room furniture from Falkenstien’s father and two 1972 BMW roadsters belonging to Falkenstien’s sister and her husband.

The cars were described in the alliance’s court documents as “classic.”

The volleyball association disagreed. “We called them old,” the group’s attorney Jim Evans said.

O’Brien, in his ruling, agreed with the volleyball organization.

“We’re going to rectify that,” Falkenstien vowed Friday.

He smiled, and added, “So far, we’ve won every single round.”