Maurizia Cacciatori is the Anna Kournikova of international volleyball, except that the Italy women’s captain is supremely talented as well as beautiful.

Though her fans from Bergamo to Beijing may dub her "princess", her girlish innocence robs her of any regal affectations; when she makes a spectacular block, she blushes and casts a coy look at her ultra-relaxed coach Angiolino Frigoni.

Ask her about her boyfriend and she blushes again. So when the world’s greatest glamour photographer came calling, she checked first with her team-mates. They voted against their captain taking on a new persona before the camera.

It is not hard to see why Helmut Newton left Maurizia unimpressed: "I don’t like wearing make-up. I just like things simple. I don’t want to be a model; I don’t like all that sitting around. I like things that are strong and fast," she said after playing her first Olympic match against the Russians.

"For me it's important to be a sportswoman," said the 27-year-old, who already has eight world championships and 128 internationals to her credit. "I want to go on to the end."

It is not that she hasn’t been tempted by the great world of glamour out there beyond the volleyball court; when she did some lingerie shots for the Italian sports magazine Super Volley the phone never stopped ringing. From her home in Bergamo, she advertises biscuits, and Nike uses her for promotions in the United States. But Maurizia remains unimpressed.

One thing that does impress her is the Russia women’s volleyball team. She made her international debut against them in 1991 and lost. "No, I am not happy," she said today after losing again. "We tried to do our best but the Russians are very strong."

Despite the clear head-height advantage of the Russians, Maurizia bounds up to block their cannonball blasts like a springbok. For all their supposed weakness, the Italians put on a spirited show and, for much of the game, it could have gone either way. But in the end the Russians saw off the spritely Italians three sets to one.

Many spectators would be relieved the Russians won after witnessing the antics of their coach Nikolai Karpol. He had given every indication that, had they lost, he would have exploded with rage at the "incompetence" of his team.

A new Olympic rule allows coaches to stand just off the playing area. At the least misfortune, coach Karpol would rush forward, temples bulging, to scream at his team. A short, paunchy man in a well-cut suit, the tsar of Russian volleyball holds the lives of his players in his hands: he can dictate who lives and who dies professionally.

On the day it was Soviet-style coaching that won through but the Italian style is sure to be back.