This blog is now retired. My new site is at: Predictably Irrational.

Saturday, February 05, 2011

Having A Ball

Our past two weekends have been filled with volleyball tournaments. The week fills us up with volleyball practice. I eat, live and breath volleyball.

I am not complaining. I love it. And I hate it too.

Last week: volleyball tourneys at North Raleigh Christian Academy, which is in the vicinity of our old 'hood. We had actually been there before, when CJ and R tried out for the volleyball team that was based there. If you didn't read that particular post, that is where we pulled up into the parking lot to be greeted by the Jesus van.

We started off well and won the first game. There was hope. But no, we ended up losing the next three games. I will say, I loved finishing my Harry Potter book in the "wanna-be-educating-house-of-the-lord". Nothing satisfies me more than being blasphemous.

Today's tournament took place in Oxford, which is about an hour north of us. We arrived around 8:15 on a gloomy, rainy drive on HWY 50. As I entered the gym, I was like "COOL!" Bleachers everywhere, although we had our own seats. When I went to ask where we could set up chairs, I was told that CJ's team was in a different pool, therefore, a different gym (in the same facility). When I found that gym, I found a vastly different gym: no bleachers, barely no room to put folding chairs, and limited lighting. That would be the place we would hang out until late in the afternoon.

The girls ref'd the first game. It was at this point that I was pretty psyched: enjoying the other teams playing; cheering for both teams; just excited about what the day would bring. Then the girls' turn to play came and it went downhill from there.

I started off cheering, then I went to grimacing, then silence. I was on pins and needles the entire time. Watching my girls play is like watching fricking ECU play football: one minute they're down by 100 points, then they come back and it's only by a miracle that they can pull off a win. Unfortunately, the win came at the very last but most necessary game. The losing team of each of the two pools would have to ref the play off games. Our last game was with the two losing teams: ours and the other one.

We pulled it out with a nail biting end but I was grateful because, as the coach said to the girls: I don't want to be hanging out in Oxford until 9:30 unless we are playing.

We didn't make play offs but at least we didn't end up being the losers ref'ing the play off games. We made it home by 4ish and we have a free weekend next week (except for Sunday practice) until the following week, where we start again with several weekends of all-day tournaments.

I'm not complaining. Well, I am. I want us to win.

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