Deanna found out mid-week that all the 6th grade girls form the Middle School Girls' Volleyball "B" Team. Their first game was last night - 4 days into school, with not even a practice together.
Some of the girls (by some, I mean about 3) attended a week-long volleyball camp this summer with the older middle school girls, but they still had not played as a team, and that was a couple of months ago. The Principal took all the girls out of Bible class and combined that time with their PE class so they had 2 hours of practice on Thursday at the end of the day. Deanna came home from school beet red and sweaty and headed straight for the shower. Not knowing if I'd be home on Friday or not because of Baby Reagan's condition, I made arrangements for Deanna to ride with another mom to the game after school on Friday. The other mom, a veteran of middle school, told me that they would most likely get their uniforms during the day on Friday and should be prepared to change after last period and leave right after school to allow them time to warm up.
Since I was home after all, Don, the boys and I loaded up and headed to the game. There was a stalled car on the off-ramp blocking traffic which delayed us, but we arrived 10- minutes into the first game, just in time to see Deanna contact with the ball.
I was amazed! She was taken out twice for short times, but played the majority of all three games. Turns out, she's quite a good little volleyball player. She serves very well and her bumping (that's what they call it now in volleyball, when you get a chance to touch the ball) is very solid, also, but can use a little more control. About half the time, the ball went out-of-bounds, but I noticed her average was better than many of the girls on the opposing team.
After the game, she asked me if I thought she was an aggressive player. I laughed. Aggression is certainly not a word I would ever use in a sentence with "Deanna". She responded with, "I know. I didn't think I was aggressive either. I need to work on that."
Truth is, there's lots that the team can work on, and Deanna personally has the potential to improve dramatically. BUT (the big BUT), our "B" Team beat a school that, I'm told by others who know much better than me, has NEVER in the history of our school been beaten by our "B" team. It is considered one of the top teams and we've never succeeded in supplanting them. Until now.
Parents and girls alike were ecstatic. Even without the knowledge of past records, I was on my feet towards the end of the 3rd game, screaming my lungs out for our girls who waffled back and forth from leading to following, leading to following.
They accomplished what many others have tried and failed to produce - a win against Augusta Prep. The coach is to be commended as are the girls who tried so hard and were unbelievably supportive of each other's successes and failures. As the games waned on, Deanna's serving arm just got plain tired. I understand this well, as I suffer from the same problem, or at least I did when I played volleyball in the 8th grade. In one string, Deanna served at least 14 times in a row, bringing us from about 8 points behind to 5 points ahead. I knew she was getting tired. I could see in her eyes that she was having to concentrate much more with each serve and was talking to hersellf. The last serve went out-of-bounds but Deanna's classmates congratulated her, smiled and encouraged. I was very pleased.
The sportsmanship from our girls was spotless. The playing was excellent, especially considering their lack of experience and practice. And the game was rip-roaring. All-in-all, time well-spent.
This morning, I made my way into Deanna's room and plopped on her bed.
"Good morning, darling. How are you today?" She's been fighting a terrible cold and a bad cough and we've been giving her Nyquil every night and Sudafed throughout the day just to get through this very long first week of school. If the weekend hadn't arrived when it did, I'm afraid I would have had to take her out of school for a day.
"My head hurts, I'm tired, and my serving arm is sore!"
I'm sure that's true. But gird up those muscles, girl. There's tons more serving in store for you over the next two months. And maybe the opportunity to get aggressive on the court.
Just think - maybe I'll be using the words "Deanna" and "aggressive" together before volleyball season is done.
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