Random Tournament Things
Sep. 14th, 2002 06:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cherryWell, we didn't take the tourney, but we had fun, and a few really, really good sets. I'm starting to settle into being a power instead of a middle, and I think I like it. You get to do a lot of hitting. Which was good today, because my wrist kept giving out on me on sets, even though I had it taped up more and more as the day went on.
Oh, by the way... I can't imagine people who willing have the hair yanked out of their skin. Taking tape off is bad enough. The bumpy thing is still growing, so I may be going to the doctor. My mom did, however have a good point in that if the doctor tells me not to play volleyball, I'm just going to end up taping it and playing anyways, so it would probably be a wasted trip.
(Just a note for the rookies on our team: If you don't want me telling you where to stand in rotation so that we can set up our 5-1, then you should remember it. It's not that complicated. Fill in the holes. If you're standing out of rotation and about to lose us the point when the ref calls it, I am going to mention it to you. Not the nasty part, of course. Just where you should move.)
Road trips are fun. Especially in Saskatchewan, because they tend to be so long that you have to make them fun, especially when the road switches back and forth between asphalt and gravel for most of the trip. Our coach was in the same vehicle as us, but she's cool, and the parent driving was one of the pair that I'd happily move in with.
The utter insanity that is a road trip with our team cannot be fully appreciated unless you're there. And even then, it's likely that only we would really appreciate it. Stereo cranked, the oddest assortment of music you could burn on a CD, lots of snacks, a grasshopper named 'Fudge,' and conversations that would never otherwise come about.
I tell you, having someone yell 'Call the ball!' at us will never again have the same meaning for me.
And yes, it did have a volleyball meaning. Minds. Gutter. Out. You start playing vball young, and you don't even think of it. It's just... Are you planning on hitting the volleyball? If so, yell something, or someone else is also going to go after it, and you will be hit, either will the ball, or a hand, or a side tackle, or there will be a resounding smack of heads. And while this is amusing for the spectators, not so much for the people groaning on the floor.
Oh, and do I ever know that feeling. ::G::
Oh, by the way... I can't imagine people who willing have the hair yanked out of their skin. Taking tape off is bad enough. The bumpy thing is still growing, so I may be going to the doctor. My mom did, however have a good point in that if the doctor tells me not to play volleyball, I'm just going to end up taping it and playing anyways, so it would probably be a wasted trip.
(Just a note for the rookies on our team: If you don't want me telling you where to stand in rotation so that we can set up our 5-1, then you should remember it. It's not that complicated. Fill in the holes. If you're standing out of rotation and about to lose us the point when the ref calls it, I am going to mention it to you. Not the nasty part, of course. Just where you should move.)
Road trips are fun. Especially in Saskatchewan, because they tend to be so long that you have to make them fun, especially when the road switches back and forth between asphalt and gravel for most of the trip. Our coach was in the same vehicle as us, but she's cool, and the parent driving was one of the pair that I'd happily move in with.
The utter insanity that is a road trip with our team cannot be fully appreciated unless you're there. And even then, it's likely that only we would really appreciate it. Stereo cranked, the oddest assortment of music you could burn on a CD, lots of snacks, a grasshopper named 'Fudge,' and conversations that would never otherwise come about.
I tell you, having someone yell 'Call the ball!' at us will never again have the same meaning for me.
And yes, it did have a volleyball meaning. Minds. Gutter. Out. You start playing vball young, and you don't even think of it. It's just... Are you planning on hitting the volleyball? If so, yell something, or someone else is also going to go after it, and you will be hit, either will the ball, or a hand, or a side tackle, or there will be a resounding smack of heads. And while this is amusing for the spectators, not so much for the people groaning on the floor.
Oh, and do I ever know that feeling. ::G::
