Volleyball court assistants get their star turn

LONDON — When Stuart Rouse landed a dream gig as a court assistant at Earls Court, the aspiring Olympic volleyballer focused on perspiration, not adulation.

“We just thought we were going to be mopping up sweat,” Rouse, 16, said.

Instead, in an eye-catching twist designed to put a unique stamp on the venerable volleyball venue, LOCOG and building officials decided to give the assistants their star turn.

PHOTOS: 2012 London Olympics, Day 8

Just before the players, they are introduced by the booming public address announcer as “The Court Assistants!” They walk through a tunnel of pompom-waving cheerleaders to a choreographed entrance, including waves to both sides of the court.

Once the match starts, they attack the floor with towels after long points. During timeouts, they push their brooms in perfect unison, even stepping over them simultaneously on the far side before turning together to return to the other.

If gold medals were awarded for awarded for youthful enthusiasm, “God Save the Queen” would play on a loop.

“It’s quite a lot,” Rouse said. “But it’s good fun. You have to do it with a smile.”

The assistants come from local youth volleyball clubs throughout England. Each had to perform ably at multiple test events before landing their Olympic moment. With selection competitive, preparation was intensive.

“These mops we use here are more than a meter wide,” said Robert Rouse, one of the leaders of the Tendring Volleyball Club in Essex and no relation to Stuart. “We couldn’t get anything like that at our club. So we were using brooms and taping stuff to them to make them longer for practice to get the idea of this mop.”

That’s dedication.

Lightheartedness aside, this is serious business. And the court assistants, some of whom are charged with passing volleyballs to servers upon request, treat it as such.

“What if a player slipped on a critical point?” Jordan Franklin, 17, asked. “That’s why we practice, practice, practice. We work as a team, get to know each other’s strengths and weaknesses. You help each other. That’s what makes it work.”

If that sounds like a competitor talking, well, the best of the eight groups gets to work the gold-medal match.

“That’s the carrot,” said the club leader Robert Rouse.

Until then, the assistants, after the initial hesitation of their spotlighted duties, are enjoying the notoriety. Family members and friends are watching them on local TV, texting them support and congratulations. Franklin said players have complimented them on their efforts.

“It kind of feels like our Olympic moment,” Stuart Rouse said. “When we walk on the court and wave, it’s like, ‘Yeah!’ It gets you fired up before the match.”

Next to Rouse, Franklin wipes sweat from his own forehead after another day of making sure it doesn’t linger on the court.

“People who say they have front-row tickets haven’t really,” he said. “We have the front-row tickets. It’s brilliant.”

kcjohnson@tribune.com

Twitter.com/kcjhoop