Today I played volleyball.
But the group was hanging out, and I wanted to be a part. So I brought a book and some crochet and watched happily from the sidelines. I'm not much for organized sports, and this one particularly has bad memories. My grandfather (well meaning, but very competative) kicked me off his volleyball team at the family reunion because I kept hitting it into the dirt. So I haven't even wanted to join in a game since.
But I watched, and nobody seemed to be taking the game seriously. And everyone was messing up now and then. And those that couldn't hit the ball consistantly were being encouraged by both sides. Seemed pretty safe to me.
So I borrowed a tank top from Jessica, tossed aside my flip flops, and took Johnny's place in the fourth game. Did I mention I was wearing a jean skirt? I hit the ball five times total, and dodged, shrinking a bunch. But three of my serves went right where I wanted. And I think I bumped it once. Then my wrist got tired, and I couldn't hit straight to save my soul. It went over though. Vanessa made some amazing dives. Once, she fell and Torrie dove right over the top of her. Tasha tried to be everywhere at once. Aaron hit more than his share for the other team. Merry and Pippin did well for themselves, when they weren't distracted by rims. Whatever the heck. Jules hit several lovely shots. Liz had the worlds most consistant serve. Jessica could pop the ball just barely over the net, so you would think it was on their side, and not even go for it. Angie had two great serves right at the end when they were needed. And Austen hit some nice ones, when he wasn't fighting for Tasha over the ball. "Mine! This one's mine. Touch the ball and I'll kill you. The next one's mine, too!"
Then we were down to the final ... whatever it's called. Round I suppose. And we were tied. 14-13, and my team was up. We volleyed a bit. It came to me, and I hit it over. And they missed it.
I won the game point.