Killer looks just scratch surface of UW's Christal Morrison

When Christal Morrison doffs her Washington warm-ups and walks onto the volleyball court, pulses begin racing for a variety of reasons.

First, there is the superficial. To not acknowledge the sheepish grins and nudges exchanged between the males in the stands would require ignoring something that almost always comes up when Morrison is the subject of conversation.

		Joshua Trujillo / P-I
	University of Washington volleyball player Christal Morrison.

Rumor has it that she is not unpleasant to look at.

Ah, but Morrison wouldn't be worthy of these pages if she merely cut a fine form. Objectification is only Point A. It's a first impression for those who have functioning eyes, but it never reigns exclusively if something more substantive and defining follows.

In Morrison's case, Point B manifests on the court when a volleyball is lofted for her and she strides netward -- right, left, right, left -- and then leaps. Her hands and feet briefly form the ends of a "C" as her back arches her 6-foot-2 frame. Her outstretched arms flow apart, the right cocking behind her head, the left sweeping forward toward the target.

And then ... FWAAAAAP!

Point Washington.

		Joshua Trujillo / P-I
	Christal Morrison, going up for a block against Oregon State, is an All-America outside hitter and Washington's only four-time, first-team All-Pac-10 selection.

And the superficial attention transforms into a different sort of appreciation: Golly, she sure knocked the hell out of that ball!

The action, which combines Rolex precision and Smith & Wesson violence, is the greatest of all volleyball moments and is colorfully called a "kill."

No one at Washington has killed more than Morrison, the school's first four-time, first-team All-Pac-10 performer. Her 1,818 career kills as an outside hitter established a program standard this season.

If looks could kill? That's no longer a rhetorical question.

Sometimes they do.

The steely-eyed look Morrison and her teammates will adopt this week as they begin the NCAA postseason, however, doesn't figure to be terribly fetching. They will attempt to become just the sixth team in the 26-year history of the championship to reach the Final Four four consecutive years, so they won't be grinning ear-to-ear over just getting invited to the dance.

It may overstate things to say the sixth-seeded Huskies now play by the doctrine of "national championship or bust," but none of the players would laugh you out of the building for asking.

Morrison, named the 2006 Pac-10 player of the year and most outstanding player of the 2005 Final Four, still looks genuinely pained recalling last year's 3-0 semifinal exit to Stanford, which lost to Nebraska in the final but is the top seed this year.

"The way we went out, the way we didn't perform, was disheartening," she said.

The chief roadblock to redemption heading into this season was the departure of Courtney Thompson, the fiery and skillful setter who was the team's unquestioned leader. If the program were going to slip, it looked like it would be there.

Again, looks can be deceiving. The vibe is decidedly different -- the Huskies no longer defer to a single voice -- but the terms Morrison uses to describe the 2007 Huskies don't suggest a team that gets wide-eyed when the screws tighten.

"We're edgy," she said. "We get fiery. We go full blast."

Judging by her interests, Morrison also could be describing herself. She's not the sort to chill during her downtime, despite four arthroscopic surgeries on her right knee since her junior year at Puyallup High School, nor is she much for the party scene. Her favorite activities happen outdoors and feed her jones for speed, altitude and adventure.

For example, she snowboards in the winter and wakeboards in the summer and is dying to give hang gliding a try.

"It would be that or cliff jumping -- or sky diving," she said.

		Joshua Trujillo / P-I
	Morrison blows a kiss to fans after the Oregon State match, in which she became the UW's career kills leader.

She nixes bungee jumping, though, citing "an upside down thing."

She's toured Europe with Thompson, her best friend, and they briefly considered running with the bulls in Pamplona last summer.

They decided not to, Morrison said, for two reasons: 1. Fear of injury; 2. The chatty pair would have faced the impossible challenge of not talking about the experience because their respective coaches -- Thompson is playing with the U.S. national team -- would have gone bananas if they found out.

(Listening to this explanation from Morrison, a skeptical sort might wonder if she and Thompson actually did run with the bulls and then contrived this story to take care of both issues. By denying they ran with the bulls, they remain in the clear while allowing themselves to talk about it. Hmm.)

When Morrison manages to sit still, she watches her favorite reality show, "The Amazing Race," which spawned a new goal. She's certain that she and Thompson, with their shared love of thrills, travel and competition, would be an unbeatable -- not to mention photogenic -- team.

Yet, just when the cumulative effect of all this might suggest that Morrison is merely Danger Girl looking for a celebrity turn, there's also this: If Morrison could have any superpower, she'd want to be a good cook.

For real.

"I think it would be awesome to have everyone like your food," she explained.

Further, Morrison -- the superstar athlete, the thrill-seeker, the world traveler, the potential reality show contestant, the budding gourmet cook -- ultimately wants a career in special education.

For real.

"I just feel a calling for it," she said. "I get a lot of joy from it."

Didn't see that one coming, did you?

Apparently, looks can kill and they can be deceiving. Or they can erroneously simplify something that just may be complicated.

HUSKIES VS. MISSOURI

WHAT: NCAA Tournament

WHEN/WHERE: Friday, 7 p.m., Hec Edmundson Pavilion