Mr. Ujest and I play sand lot volleyball on Tuesday nights.
This is our first time back in a team volleyball in over five years and the first time playing sand lot.
Our skills are rusty and we are more dense in weight than the last go-round. Playing in the sand is pretty freakin’ hard, too. When I agreed to play, our friend mentioned after the fact that,
" Oh, yeah, it’s sand lot." Loverly. I’d rather have the hard floor and bruised on my legs than sand up my ass.
Our team mates (co-ed)are through a friend of ours and nearly everyone is on the same level of suck as we are. We are possibly the oldest in age team out there and we ( the Ujests) bring our two Darling Children every week to liven up things.
We don’t care. We are there to have fun. And the gags, one liners, innuendos and guffaws are abound.
Not bad for a handful of people that we did not know until two months ago.
We have lost every match, except one. And have only won one game by forfeit. We revel in our loserness. If we are in double digits we wonder how we got there. If we are actually on the board, it means we have someone who is serving well. If the other team is on a hot streak it could mean that either their serves are good or, more likely, they found a hole in our defense and just pour lemon juice into that wound and then watch us bicker and whine and pout and plead.
Tonight we had a double header. The first team spanked us before and they did it again tonight. We had loads of laughs as they kicked our asses and everyone had fun. Nice people.
Tonight we played a game against a team that we’ve watch warm up and play other teams better and mucho better than us. Of this there is no dispute. They bump. They set. They spike. They serve. They actually control the ball and use their three hits. They are probably better than my high school volleyball team my senior year. and that ain’t saying much.
They are what I call the “Alpha Females” and not in a sexual way or physical way, either. It is easy to spot someone who played organized v-ball in high school. (none of these ladies played college, they ain’t that good and they ain’t that tall or in that amazon shape.) They use communication, talking to each other before taking the ball. Unlike our team that likes to send our messages to each other telepathically before the ball thuds into the sand.
These women ( and guys, who were noticably not as obnoxious as the chicks.) called us on a couple of rules.
RULES!? We don’ need no stinkin’ rules.
Two of our girls on our team ( me and one other) played in high school. It is instinctive for us to hit the ball a specific way. The other - Jen - well, let’s just say that in her salad days she did beer bongs and smoked weed. She’s never played before and considering this is her fifth or six night of the game, she isn’t doing half bad.
Jen’s reflexes are more for chasing her 5 year old and toddler around, not bumping a ball, so she did not get the flat level two arms togethers to hit the ball. More like two straight arms with fists twelve inches apart.
In real volleyball, that is not allowed.
This is rec. league.
If players can smoke and drink on the sidelines, any hit that makes the ball go over the net is do-able, I say.
If players can openly yell, " Fuck." “Shit.” " Goddamit" when they flub up and not get a repremand from a ref, then all the better.
If players can openly make comments to the other team about,
“Y’know, you’re the first man to dig my ball. I’m horny now.” More Power to them.
If one player can distract the male server on the other team by shouting " TITS!" causing him to flub, then it’s aokay by me.
BUT, to nitpick over something so convoluted at how we *hit * the ball?
Buddha on a Pogo Stick!
After that snarky little comment by the Alpha Alpha Female and watching them take the ball, our team joined together, stopped the smartass comments and we buckled down.
It was the toughest battle, fueled by a determination by my team mates to knock the smugness of their faces. To make these Uber Anal Retentives realize that It is not about the destination, it is about the journey.
I ended up having a serving streak that probably was longer than anything I ever had in high school. Six points. I also had a couple of saves that transported me back in time and made me feel like I was in the zone again.
But, this isn’t about me.
It is about my team, the team with no name. Tonight, we beat the Alpha-Females in the match that counted.
HA. :::::::sticks tongue out::::::::::::
So what if they came back in the next game and wiped us all over the court.
WE WON ONE OFF OF YOU, HAGS.
Neener neener neener.
