Nothing to do but write…and cheer

We once again find ourselves on the cold, hard, silver bleachers at a new church, preparing to watch Hannah’s volleyball games. Well…I’m here, while the rest of the family stayed behind in Lexington. It’s probably just as well: for the games that aren’t at our church, the drive is long, the bleachers are few, and the ability to do anything else but sit and watch is almost nil. That’s fine for me, but I’m sure the other kids would be bored in a very short period of time. And as long as they are able to stay home, I know they would rather. They’ll get enough volleyball at the home games.

Having never really paid much attention to volleyball before this year, it has been a tutorial in several ways. Sure, I had played it in gym class, but truth be told, I took my PE credits in summer school so I wouldn’t miss the AP classes I wanted to take during the school year. I think we played volleyball for a week or two that summer–between walking 5 miles a day and bowling on Fridays–and with my lack of depth perception, I can assure you that as volleyball players go, I didn’t. (We can just leave it at that.)

But Hannah has really enjoyed learning the sport, and shows real promise. She has become familiar with the terminology and the strategy and has a strong serve that surprised us all. I, on the other hand, despite watching most if not all of the games, still know very little other than the basics of the basics. I have learned a few things, however, in my observations. For example, girls need to come together after almost every point and clap hands and offer well wishes to each other. (The team tonight had a mini dance to celebrate an ace.) Important note: no slapping backsides. They are also extremely forgiving–at least outwardly so–towards any girl who misses a play or gives up a point. This is definitely not Bobby Knight’s league. (In retrospect, since young and impressionable ears are listening, this is probably a really good thing!) Lastly, because we play in a Christian league, the uniform rules dictate modest dress at all times, including culottes which harken back to the times of MC Hammer. I kind of expect the girls to break out in a rousing rendition of “Can’t Touch This” during halftime. Alas, it hasn’t happened yet, but the season isn’t over yet.

All in all, though, I think it’s been a fabulous experience for us all thus far. Here’s to “killing it!”


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