Tuesday, March 23, 2010

B Team Youth Volleyball and Star Trek Underwear

Game 8

Two weeks ago my son tried out for the school volleyball team. I was introduced to the game of volleyball later in life. My HS didn't have boys volleyball. Once introduced I played in competitive leagues and really learned to appreciate the game. I actually met my wife from across a volleyball net.  Eventually we played volleyball on the same side of the net. We were usually the 2 setters in the 6-2 formation.

I watched the 6th grade tryouts and thought that my son was one of the better players trying out. Again, he was not a polished volleyball player, but he showed athletic ability.  Prior to the tryout, I had informed the evaluators that my son is committed to baseball and would likely not be available for many of the volleyball games. He was placed on the B team. My son expected that and was OK with it too. Baseball is intense, so he just wants to have some fun with his schoolmates.

My son's baseball team is made of up of some of the very best players in the metro area of about one million people. This team has been coached since 9 years old as if they are HS kids. My daughter plays at the highest level of soccer in the area. She plays in a league with the top 70 or so best players in the metro area. So we are used to watching very capable athletes mature beyond their years. B Team volleyball is a whole different world. Many of the kids on both sides of the court are not athletic at all. They are there to have fun and hopefully not get hurt.

My son played in his first volley ball game of the season. It was really hard to watch. The ball moves at a snails pace compared to a baseball, yet no one seems to be able to get to it. One dad yelled out to his son, "the object of the game is to hit the ball before it hits the ground." That got a chuckle from the fans. On one play one of our better players hit a rocket overhand serve across the net. The player on the other team prepared to bump the ball but the screaming serve hit him square in the face. His glasses flew off. He was not hurt, but I am pretty sure he stained his Star Trek underwear.

My son's team lost the match. (L 1-15, W 15-13, L 13-15). My son ran off the court after the coaches talk and said, "Dad lets go!". "What's the hurry?", I asked. He just wanted to leave as soon as possible. I could tell he was a little embarrassed. We laughed about the level of play in the car and talked about one of his awesome spikes. I reminded him that this was for fun and that for some of the kids this is their only chance to play a sport. I told him to not take it so seriously.

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