I'm a fan of the BYU men's volleyball team. I get season tickets. I develop secret crushes on some of the players. My favorite crush graduated. I'll have to find a new one. I've almost got the fight song memorized. Last night there was a game. BYU won. As I sat cheering the team I thought of my own illustrious volleyball career...and then I couldn't stop laughing.
In grade school we played volleyball. And by we I mean 4th graders to 6th graders. They took students from each grade and created teams. I was intimidated to near death by the 6th graders on my team. Cole Kelly, who once saved my life from a bully, was on my team and the thought of having to play volleyball with him nearly did me in...simply because I couldn't play volleyball...AT ALL.
Every Thursday our teacher would tell us to get ready to go to the volleyball games - where the whole school was in attendance. And every Thursday I would come up with my best excuse:
I have a headache and can't play.
My stomach is really upset.
I twisted my ankle at recess.
Playing volleyball is against my religion. (Okay, I never used that one. But it would have been good...had the teacher not been my same religion.)
I only remember actually playing in one game. And 'playing' is a stretch. I stood on the court, filled a space, and prayed the ball wouldn't come my direction. Oh...and there were the polka dots.
One Thursday morning when it became evident that Mrs. Bennett (my teacher) was not going to give in to any of my excuses I had to come up with Plan B. And for a 4th grader I'd say my Plan B was not too shabby. If everyone is going to laugh at me why not give them something to really laugh at? If the entire school is going to be watching ME miss the ball, why not give them something to really watch? (I feel so sorry for the 4th grade me...just wait, you'll understand.)
I spent the entire morning and lunch recess cutting circles out of colored paper. And then my friend and I taped those colored circles all over me. I was covered from head to toe in polka dots. There...that would show them...go ahead and laugh if you want, at least it wouldn't be because the ball hit me in the face...again. (I wonder now where my teacher was. Shouldn't she have put a stop to such behavior?)
I'm pretty sure we lost that game. And I'm pretty sure people laughed at me. Heck, I'm laughing at me. Ahh...memories.