Chuck and I were finally reunited in an emotional gala in New York about a week later. We caught up on old times, and I suddenly realized how unique our relationship was (how many people do you know who have a special bond with a volleyball? I didn't think it was so unusual until now - well, maybe except the U.S Olympic team). Even as people at the buffet table stared and the photographers snapped shot after shot, Chuck and I made a promise never lose touch with each other.

Today, you can find me pretty much anywhere in Chuck's house - on the couch, on the deck when it's sunny, by the window when it's rainy, but mainly these days in front of the computer, writing my memoirs and this website. Turns out Chuck had gotten another volleyball - a Wilson, of course - after getting back home, but that's another story altogether (suffice it to say, the engagement is still on :) ). We still get along fine. Chuck bought some special red ink and drew a permanent face for me, letting me cut a dashing figure 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. We're planning a lot of things, among them a special return flight back to the island, which I hear is actually sacred ground to some South Pacific natives (that's why there was no one there). Then there's the publicity, the occasional interviews and guest appearances. Chuck and I have been through a lot together, and we're hoping to enjoy the ride until our fifteen minutes are up, and we can fade back into the background of ordinary American life.