"Help!" Coach Ron Rothstein yelled to the ceiling of American Airlines Arena. "Does no one in this benighted community speak Russian?"

Elena Baranova yelled something back at him that he couldn't understand. "Coach, yelling isn't going to do a bloody bit of good," Sandy Brondello said in disgust. "If she understands, she understands, and if she doesn't she doesn't. All you're doing is getting everyone else irritated!"

"I hear that," Ruth Riley agreed.

Iziane Castro Marques muttered something that didn't sound nice. "What did she say?" Coach Rothstein asked the room.

"Probably that you really shouldn't call the Brazilian and Cuban communities benighted," Vanessa Nygaard chipped in cheerily as she finished tying her shoes.

"You speak Portuguese?"

"Who, me?" Vanessa asked, looking around. "I'm lucky I speak English, what are you expecting me to speak Portuguese for?"

The coach sighed heavily. "How the hell am I supposed to draw up plays when one of my top players doesn't even speak the same language as anyone else in the room?"

"Draw up plays for everyone else," Sheri Sam said. That got her some sarcastic cheers from several people in the room but earned her a glare from Debbie Black, Elena's teammate in Utah before they were both exiled to Miami.

"Think about it this way, Coachie baby," Vanessa said, clapping a hand on Coach Rothstein's shoulder. "It could be worse. What if that German lady was still here? Then you'd have five players who didn't have a clue what you were saying."

The coach counted aloud, "Elena, Claudia, Iziane, Marlies- who's the fifth?"

Vanessa grinned. "Me."