Wednesday, September 23, 2009


Last night I had the opportunity (for lack of a better word I was stuck watching him officiate since we’re still down to one car at the moment and his officiating was in the OPPOSITE direction of our house) to watch LW officiate a freshman and varsity volleyball match between two awesome schools in Ohio. As I’m sitting there watching the freshman game a whole flood of memories came rushing back to me.

I was a volleyball player myself. Not the best player on the team, but certainly not the worst. By the time I was a freshman I was playing for two years. I should be a pro by then right? Not so much.

Every team has the girl who can’t serve well over hand so she pumps it across the net with her fist or less skillfully underhanded. Every team has the girl who wants to be the center of attention so she dives, crawls, sprints (you catch my drift) after every ball even if it’s in another zip code. And every team has the girl who can’t hit the ball over the net with her forearm so she beams it out of bounds by hitting it with her fist.

As much as I hate to admit it, that was me. I had a lot of heart, but not a lot of talent. I never gave up even when I knew in the back of my mind that I wasn’t going to ever be the greatest volleyball player my team (or school) had ever seen.

I ended up giving up all sports (band and choir included) when I moved from New Mexico to Ohio. By the time I arrived in Ohio (my junior year) parents had been breeding their kids to be super athletes, to where back home we played because it was fun, not because we were going to be a super star some day. The girls here in Ohio were out serving me, out running me and plain out ditching me. I just couldn’t keep up no matter how much training I had in New Mexico, and I have to say, I had a lot!

So last night as I’m sitting there watching the home team lose, I remembered what it felt like when we lost our home games (away games didn’t sting as much since no one traveled to see us play). Parents in the stands looking disappointed. Boyfriends and friends shrugging their shoulders at our loss. It was devastating. My heart went out to those girls as they ran up to their parents and their peers for comfort.

And being a freshman…oy. Now that was more traumatic then losing a volleyball game! Thank goodness those years are OVER!


Tooj said...

Losing always stinks, doesn't it? No matter how much you tell yourself you're just there to have fun. I'm glad you went with LW....sometimes doing something different like that will bring about a great blog post.

Julie said...

Awwww. Great post, Danica.

Anonymous said...

Awww... poor girls. I hated loosing. I played recreational volball on the beach but nothing with stress of winning attached. Tammy