THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, July 27, 1996 TAG: 9607270470
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C2 EDITION: FINAL
SERIES: OLYMPICS
From Atlanta
SOURCE: Tom Robinson
LENGTH: 83 lines
The world is Mike Thornberry's village, and it clatters with diversions outside his door.
There is a round-the-clock dining hall - free food, that is, and plenty of it. There is jazz in the square, Hootie and the Blowfish on stage and laser tag and virtual reality in the recreation center.
There is a department store, a hair salon, a travel agency and a florist. There are billiards and bowling, tattoos and manicures, a nightclub and coffee house.
There are quiet lounges for music, books, phone calls and Net-surfing. There is in-room cable and closed-circuit TV of every Olympic venue. Meanwhile, the world's best swimmers and amateur boxers perform a short walk away.
But at this indescribably delicious smorgasbord they call the Olympic Village, Thornberry has opted for the bread and salad. Just enough for him to savor the spices without spiraling off on a bender.
``If you don't go into this with the right frame of mind, you could get lost in everything that's going on,'' Thornberry, a U.S. team handball player from Suffolk, said Friday during a stroll around the Village. ``It would be easy to get stuck in the game room 24 hours a day.''
Thornberry visited there Friday only because I asked to look inside. Otherwise, it has seen little of the 24-year-old who moved into the Village, on Georgia Tech's campus, July 18.
Focus. If Thornberry used it once he used it 100 times to sum up his Olympic gameplan. Certainly, it is great to be at the Games. And he wouldn't stay anywhere but the Village, with its ``espirit of nations.''
It's just that Thornberry has fitted his stay amongst the Village people with blinders.
Life in the Village is fairly pre-destined by his practice and game schedules, anyway. But in his few free hours each day, Thornberry rarely lets himself lose sight of why he's here.
No bowling for him. Not even a peek into the aquatic center to catch some of the swimming races.
``The way the TV is and with the heat, I prefer to stay in the air conditioning and conserve my energy,'' Thornberry said. ``You lose some of the aura, but you gain physically by not going out and walking around in the sun.''
Even before handball began - the U.S. is 0-2 - Thornberry was on a tight practice schedule. His days are now looser, but still uneventful. He spends lots of time hanging around the new dormitory suite he shares with seven teammates.
There are four bedrooms, each with a bunk bed, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a living room. There is daily maid service, too, which is good considering how fast eight men can wreck a suite.
Even if they're slobs, they are treated like royalty. When their bus pulls away, the driver is a military man, two U.S. marshals ride along, and police cars and a helicopter escort it.
The security in general is impressive, down to the phones that do not take incoming calls and the Village entry procedure. Athletes must pass the coded tag that hangs from their neck in front of a machine, and then stick their hand into another machine. If the code doesn't match the handprint, there are problems.
Otherwise, snafus are few, Thornberry said. No logistical nightmares that have gotten so much publicity on the outside. The dorms are quiet, the sidewalks peaceful, even festival-like on a sunny afternoon.
When he does venture out, Thornberry sees all nationalities, rich athletes like his building-mate Monica Seles and - his real thrill - the globe's great handball players smiling as they traverse the Village.
``Nobody's going around kicking the rocks,'' Thornberry said.
It's not a sappy, buy-the-world-a-Coke thing. Just the common knowledge that they are walking amid the world's best.
``I don't know how you could go to the Olympics and not stay in the Village or go to the opening ceremonies,'' Thornberry said. ``I understand somebody like the Dream Team can't for security reasons, but for us this is a great atmosphere.''
The hardest thing, he said, is not sharing it with his family and fiance, who are staying at Thornberry's Atlanta apartment. Thornberry wants to show them around eventually, but preparation for his games must come first.
So, at least for now, most of the Village's temptations will remain lost on Thornberry. Except for the spaghetti in the dining hall.
``Always a line at the pasta bar,'' Thornberry said. ``You've got to carbo-load.''
KEYWORDS: OLYMPICS 1996 by CNB