Volleyball – A memoir

One day in the sixth grade my friend Kaela decided we were going to join the school volleyball team. This plan did not engender the same enthusiasm in me as in her. Don’t get me wrong I like volleyball, but just ask my former classmates I was not volleyball material. My only experience with volleyball took place in an elementary gym class. I was not an essential member of that team. When the ball happened to be hit near me my limbs would turn to rubber and I became a deer stuck in the headlights. Kaela didn’t care about any of that. I really didn’t get a say in joining the team. Even though I bluntly refused, Kaela set out to get me on the team. Her game plan consisted of constantly nagging me. She called me every single day with her petitions on how it was not fair for me to make her try out alone. Daily, when we walked home, she would push my buttons until there wasn’t any more left to push. Despite my unwillingness to join the team, she wasn’t letting up and I saw no other way. I decided to sacrifice my happiness and join the team. That is one thing about Kaela, once she sets her mind on something she doesn’t give up easily.
The day after I surrendered Kaela forced me to sign up before I changed my mind. Reluctantly, I shuffled up to the table where the signup sheets were. It was extremely hard to write my name on that piece of paper. It felt like I was signing my soul to the devil. I saw that a couple of other people had signed up before me. I felt like my very existence was moribund.
The first day of tryouts I was terrified. On the walk to the gym I became wobbly and upgraded from butterflies to finches to pheasants in my stomach. Kaela thought I was psychotic and making a big deal out of nothing. To me this was more than just some ordinary tryouts. I was probably going to be the most incompetent person on the team. They couldn’t cut people off the team this year. I would end up as the unwanted toy Aunt Sue bought, and couldn’t get rid of, so ended up tossed under the bed. Kaela couldn’t comprehend how it felt to go into something you knew was going to end poorly.
As we neared the torture chamber I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and opened the double doors. In the changing room the atmosphere was very edgy. I grabbed my clothes and hurried to the bathroom stalls. It was bad enough that I was trying out for volleyball I was not also going to change in front of the other girls. I unenthusiastically followed Kaela out to the gym. We sat down against the gym wall.
“Oh My God! I am so excited! I have been practicing like every day for like forever! I am so good! I want to be captain! Hey, we should practice together. I got a new ball, and its pink and everything!” she started to go off. I didn’t say anything; once Kaela starts talking about herself it is pretty hard to stop her.
In the middle of her rant a loud whistle blew. “Everybody sit in a circle around me,” explained Mrs. Wyckok.
All of the girls started to walk over to her.”RUN” she clarified in a harsh voice.
Kaela looked at me with blissful eyes and me at her with an ominous glare. The anxiety balloon that had been blowing up over the last couple weeks was near bursting. My blood was running cold. My body automatically assumed a stuck form. Like a told you guys, a deer caught in the headlights. I couldn’t make my body do what I wanted it to do.
Slowly I loosened up and jogged over to her. A wave of relief fell over me when she told us we that actual touching of the volleyball would not be until tomorrow. I almost doubled over when she told us we were conditioning instead. The first thing she made us do was stretches. That part wasn’t bad. I took ballet for six years when I was younger so I was a little more flexible than the other girls. My shelter of protection was short lived.
“Now you guys are going to run four times around the gym. Single file line. If I see any of you cut the cones you’re starting over. GO!” hollered Mrs. Wyckok
Kaela and I immediately slunk to the back. Her confidence seemed to shrink at the word run. We ran for what seemed like an eternity. My lungs tried to mutiny me. Luckily, they didn’t succeed. When we slowed down just a tinsy bit she’d threaten us with starting over, again. People were stupid enough to repeatedly skip the cones. I will not name names but the repeated offenders were no longer in my circle of friends, or anybody else’s for that matter.
Next she made do strengthening exercises. The first item on her list of humilities was pushups. I will not lie to you, I cannot do pushups. It’s like asking a vegetarian to eat a steak; it just doesn’t happen. Next was sit ups. I would rather not talk about it. Finally we did volleyball forms. Pretty much it was just volleyball moves without the volleyball. I kept tripping over my own feet. It was quite embarrassing.
By the end of the day my body decided to disregard what I wanted. I would tell it to do something, but it totally ignored me. Just to prove its point every time I moved I would be in pain. That day was brutal, but I was just thankful that we didn’t have to touch the volleyball, yet.
That night I don’t remember my head hitting the pillow. When I woke up the next morning I just laid there for a good twenty minutes. The pain was too immense. We have this spray on muscle relaxer, but no matter how much I sprayed it on it didn’t make a difference. I begged my mom to let me skip school, but she wasn’t budging. I took a long hot steamy shower, and stretched as long as I could. It wasn’t enough.
When walking down the hallway you could easily tell which people had been at the volleyball tryouts. They were the ones limping, making agonizing facial expressions, and complaining of pain. In the back of our heads we were wishing that we didn’t have volleyball practice today. A couple of wimps even quit. Being I am awesome I decided to tough it out or just didn’t want to deal with Kaela. I can’t recall right at this moment. Either way I didn’t give up that easily.
The finches had returned. Today would be a rerun of my dreadful former volleyball days. The second I arrived at practice I looked at Mrs. Wyckok and saw that she was unmoved by our misery. Again she pulled out the list of things that Elizabeth cannot do. Today was even worse because I was sore from yesterday. The rest of practice was spent using a volleyball. We first found a partner and warmed up. We had to individually serve the ball over the net in front of everyone. Somehow I was conned into second in line. Duh,duh,duhh. Of course, I didn’t make it over, and my face burned red. I felt a little better when after everyone went not one person made it over. Every time a volleyball made contact with me it went in some unintended place. After repeatedly making mistakes I started to get a little better, but it never made it passed 5 ft or in a straight line.
My arms felt sore the next day. That day we only did drills (code word: embarrassers) for half of practice. The other half of practice we stood in a line and the coaches passed, bumped, and served the ball at us. The object was to try to get the ball back to them. If we missed, which was nine times out of ten, we had to retrieve the balls. It was a mayhem of flying balls. When it was my turn the ball ended up as far away from the target as possible. By the end my arms were beet red. I kept asking myself why I signed up for volleyball. It was painful, and I wasn’t any good at it. Then I would look at Kaela and remember that this was all her fault.
My arms were scattered with bruises. They were very tender, and hurt with just the lightest of pressure put to it. The rest of the week pretty much went the same, but slowly the soreness went down and the ball sometimes actually ended up where I wanted it. I was starting to get the hang of it and was getting less angry at Kaela, and more focused on volleyball. On the following Monday they informed us that we would only be practicing two times a week instead of every day. I felt kind of sad. I had started to enjoy playing volleyball, and was starting to improve.
For the next two weeks we went to practice Monday, and Wednesday and all tried our hardest, with the exception of a few girls. We all had fallen madly in love with volleyball and slowly we all got better. Kaela and I walked to her house every day after school while I waited for my brother to get out, and practiced. Kaela and I lived and breathed volleyball. We wanted to be the best on the team.
The day we got our jerseys I was very excited. Everybody was fighting over which number they wanted. I really didn’t care and ended up with number three. Kaela really wanted the number two, but Tia, most hated girl at Baker, took it just because she knew she wanted it. Kaela pouted the whole way home. I don’t understand the significance with numbers.
The first game came all but too fast. It was against Mason, the school who was known for their success in sports teams. We were all very nervous, especially me. I think I have an anxiety problem. They actually put me as captain. I wasn’t too thrilled, and neither was Kaela.
That game we tied. It was pretty bad. Both teams did poorly. The ball never made an actual volley. It was very boring, and embarrassing. My family was there and I didn’t want them to see me in my time of failure. Most people couldn’t serve the ball over the net and when on some miracle it did the other team couldn’t get it back over. Instead of a fluent motion like volleyball is suppose to be it was very choppy. From that game it was all uphill.
The following games were more of the real thing. Some people had learned to serve, and the ball made it over the net. Others had improved in hitting, and returned the ball over the net. Overall we had become a team, and the few stragglers who couldn’t handle that quit. From that time on I knew that volleyball was my sport.

That following summer I went to volleyball camp at Tacoma Community College. They were making cuts this year and I really wanted to make the team. My mom was friends with Kristin, assistant director, since high school. I felt worried because I didn’t know what kind of people would be there. I had the possibility of being the most inexperienced.
“Hi guys! Are you excited? I know that you’re going to love it. Don’t worry if you don’t get it at first I will help you afterwards.” My mom signed me in and Kristin took me under her wing.
The first thing we did was a relay and when she told us that it made my stomach dropped. I have never been the best at physical activities. She divided us into six teams and I slunk to the back. It was different this time. I didn’t have Kaela to lean on, I was all alone. Then she explained what we had to do in the relay. It consisted of sprinting, jumping, side skips, and jumping into the volleyball stance. I just watched the girls in front of me as hard as I could and tried to do what they did. Our team was third. We would have been first if not for me, and that didn’t boost my confidence.
Next we split up into what positions we played, and of course I didn’t know, so I just picked a random group and did what they did. It was pretty fun. They would serve the ball at us very hard and we had to pass it over the net. I got the hang of it. After a while my arms started to bruise up.
Next we did a number of drills which make my body ache just thinking about it. Near the end we practiced serving. I was so awful that one of the TCC players took me to the side and helped me, it was so embarrassing. The first time I over-handed it over the net I was so excited. I just jumped up and down and couldn’t believe that I had actually done it.
The next morning my muscles were the sorest they have ever been. My arms had intricate bruising designs. I spent a good 30 minutes stretching out and spraying the muscle relaxer. When we got there, we split into groups by age and did some spiking. That was the most embarrassing of all my embarrassing volleyball moments. I kept trying, but it seemed like a kindergartener doing calculus. Kristin took me after it, and helped me. I am pretty sure it did no good; it is much harder than it looks and it looks pretty hard.
On the final day we split into groups and got to move around and go to stations which had different things like serving, setting, spiking, and passing. I felt pretty confident about my tryouts in a month. I was sad to see it end; I was just getting the hang of it. I knew that having this under my wing would help me more than anything else I could have done.
Occasionally my mom and I would go to a TCC titan volleyball game. They were so good it was fun to watch. It was cool to watch the girls who had taught me at the camp play an actual volleyball games. It made me wonder if maybe I could do that someday. The titans ended up being undefeated. It gave me inspiration.
Finally when tryouts came I was prepared, but still nervous. I walked in with Kaela and got down to business. I was a little self conscious at the beginning, but by the third day I was totally into it and doing something that I had loved. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of me making the team. The day the list was posted for the girls who had made the team I didn’t have finches or even a pheasant in my stomach. Instead I had a hungry vulture who had taken to eating my stomach. Finally I spotted my and Kaela’s names on the list. We turned to each other, screamed, and jumped up and down. We probably looked like freaks.
I was made captain again, but this time I felt a little more confident with my role. I loved to do the things that the captain was expected to do. I put all of my might into these practices. On the games I slowly gained my confidence and instead of trying to get out of the balls way I was going after the ball. The ball was soon actually volleying which made the games even more fun. The last four games I improved so much in my serving that I consistently served the ball overhand over the net. My coach would substitute me in for the people who she knew wouldn’t make it over. One time she substituted me in for Kaela and it was extremely uncomfortable.
All throughout the season my dad and mom would help me and give me tips. I really owe them a lot of credit for helping me through. Whenever I needed advice, or kept making the same mistakes they would help me. My brother bought me an official volleyball so I could practice at home. Before, I had a beach volleyball, and was much different to work with. Without the help of Kaela and my family I would never have made it.
The moral of the story is that by taking chances, and opening up I have found something that I love to do. It is also fun to watch yourself progress through something that you were sure you would automatically fail at. When you find something you like pursue it. Don’t just stop at the minimum. Do what I did and take every opportunity that comes your way. If I had not let Kaela talk me into joining the team I would never have found the sport I love.