Dain Blanton, as ever, is making the most of every opportunity

HERMOSA BEACH, Calif. — It was late April, 1999, and Dain Blanton hadn’t heard a word from Kent Steffes, his supposed running mate for the 2000 Olympics.

“Radio silent,” Blanton recalled, laughing at the memory, on SANDCAST: Beach Volleyball with Tri Bourne and Travis Mewhirter. But this was the AVP in the ‘90s, and players had up until the Monday before a tournament to register with a partner. He didn’t have a lot of time, but he at least had some. Some, as it turns out, was all he needed.

In the small stretch of time between Blanton learning that Steffes was retiring, at the age of 30 and after the most dominant career in the history of the sport, and Blanton scrambling for a new partner, Eric Fonoimoana became a free agent. Fonoimoana’s partner and running mate for the 2000 Olympics, Mike Whitmarsh, the silver medalist in the 1996 Olympic Games, had gotten hurt and couldn’t play the upcoming AVP in Clearwater, Fla.

“We were thrown back together,” Blanton said of Fonoimoana, with whom he had played before, with moderate success but never a victory. In the midst of that partner chaos, they did something they hadn’t been able to do in 26 times trying: They won, smoking Karch Kiraly and Adam Johnson in the finals, 15-7.

“The rest is history, right?” Blanton said. “So many people don’t understand how close we were to never playing again. We played together, separate ways, if Kent doesn’t retire, if Whitmarsh isn’t hurt, we don’t ever play again together. I try to tell people now that things happen for a reason. That opportunity may present itself for a minute and you gotta make a decision. It’s so funny to think: We’d have never been to the Olympics together, we’d have never won the medal, and who knows what would have happened if I played with Kent?”

It was the first dose of serendipity, camouflaged as disaster, in Blanton’s multi-faceted career in this sport, which includes roles as a player, broadcaster, and coach at the highest levels. The difference, of course, between Blanton and most is that he squeezes every last drop of juice out of any serendipitous occurrence, whether it might appear to be a disaster or not.

How else to explain when, in 2008, a year in which Blanton had never worked an NBA basketball game as a sideline reporter or broadcaster, didn’t know a lick about the Los Angeles Clippers — and yet still…