Volleyball Spectator

Waiting to get on the court earlier tonight and the other team starts showing up. Two of the arrivals are this short girl and this monster of man wearing gray sweats and baseball cap. The sweatshirt simply says "FOOTBALL." I ribbed my team, "Hey, looks like we're playing Urlacher tonight."

My brother looks over. "You know how to play guys like that right? You serve the big oafs until they prove they can beat you."

It's a common theory. We all nod in agreement. The game before ours runs over a few minutes. We finally rush onto the court and start warming up. When I looked over to the other side I see they have 3 guys on the court (this is a co-ed 6s league) and the big guy's not one of them.

We get the first game going and they beat us pretty handily. We were trying a new offense, had a new player, and just didn't play well. Switch sides for game two. We got our shit together. We beat 'em by about 5 points in the second game.

All the while I'm watching the big dude watching our game. Two or three people came up to him randomly and shake his hand. You know what, it is fucking Brian Urlacher. We talk about it between the 2nd and 3rd game. Yes, it is most definitely Brian Urlacher. The girls ask why he's here. Who's he with? "The little girl," I answer, "The one with the big ______"

We kicked their asses in game 3. 25 - 12.

Learning Your Exercise Routine Isn't Up To Snuff

Alternate Title: Damn, I'm old!

I thought about posting this last night but I was too exhausted to open the laptop.

Yesterday my brother and I entered a 2-on-2 volleyball tournament at North Avenue Beach put on by the EVP tour, the only game in town now that the AVP has canceled all their tournaments for the year. We got there at 7:30 to help set up and started playing around 9:30AM. It was already hot. I thought it was going to be in the high 80s. One of the girls in the tournament thought it was going into the 90s.

Either way it was HOT day.

Over the next 7 hours we played 10 games. Doesn't seem like too much but remember that heat. I drank over 3 liters of water and never needed to visit the restroom. The sand was so hot we were pouring water on it and it still blistered my feet.

By the last match, best of 3 for the championship, I could barely walk because of my feet. My brother, at 36 just 3 years younger than me, was suffering severe cramps in both legs. The two guys we were playing, also brothers, were exhausted but in better shape than us. Then again, they were 18 and 19 years old. They beat us, but just barely. If it had been 10 degrees cooler ...

I slept for 12 hours last night and took a sick day today to stay off my poor feet. I would do it all again but I want to buy some sand socks first.

Recruiting

Volleyball playoffs were last night. We played the semifinals and then after we won played in the championship. I won't keep you on edge. We took 2nd.

Between matches we were playing the team we beat in the semis to stay warm. I was serving when one of the girls on the opposing team threw the ball back to me. It popped when I caught it and would have struck me center mass had I not. And I certainly noticed the form and the wind up.

After our practice game I went up to her, "You play a lot of softball."

She was taken aback for a second with the unexpected topic. "Yeah. I played in high school and on a traveling team."

I told her I run a Saturday team in the city and I might have an open spot and that I was going to need her phone number. "OK," she agreed. No hesitation. Of course, I had to get her name too since I didn't even know that.

A Worrying Moment

Last night at volleyball every time my brother moved he started gripping his abdomen. I kept asking if he was OK and he kept saying it hurt to move. Now, he's like me, fight through the pain. Don't acknowledge it. Don't show it to the other team. So him grimacing and bending over is not a good sign.

He said he had the same issue when he played Monday but felt no pain the next day. He decided to see how he felt at last night's game. The pain came on immediately. Of course, he wouldn't sit out.

Talking to him he has started a new, intense work out routine and had done abdominal exercises on Sunday. We're hoping it's just a strain but he kept clutching right where a sports hernia would be expected. I badgered him a little bit and then his wife found out what was going on and she got on his case too.

He's seeing the doctor after work this afternoon. I'm keeping my fingers crossed it is just a strain.

Old Age And Treachery Will Overcome Youth And Skill

My brother's and I's volleyball team is certainly not without skill. In fact, my brother is one of the better players in our league. But last night we lent our support to the old adage. We played a team of early 20 somethings. Before the game, as we were stretching we saw our opponents doing the same. We joked that when we were their age we warmed up for games with shots of Tequila. Not these guys. They had talent, speed, and youthful energy. Both their guys could jump serve and their girls were good setters and could hit when in that position. They had beat us in the regular season when we were short handed.

And we knocked them out of the playoffs in straight games.

They telegraphed their hits. They didn't switch their guys into hitting positions giving us rotations that produced a lot of free balls. And more than anything when they got down they couldn't recover. The last game was a rout, 21 - 8.

Mental toughness when playing sports is an interesting thing. The greatest players certainly have it. In the pro sports one thinks of Jordan and Tiger. These are guys that would do anything possible to win. Now I'm not even beginning to say our team has that kind of intensity. We don't. At our level of play though you can see the break down on other teams and the younger teams suffer from it more often. One team in our league has a group of very good players, a team that "on paper" should compete for first place, almost always loses in the first round of the playoffs. They fall apart when they start losing and start making mistakes. The same thing happened to the team we beat last night.

I don't know how one teaches or learns to keep the focus. Maybe it can't be taught. Perhaps it is something gained when one is down and overcomes adversity. And not just in sports but in other life situations. The confidence that comes from learning you can win at the game of life. The confidence is not necessarily a direct function of age as much as it is experience. All pro athletes have some level of this confidence because they have been playing their respective sport for so long. Again, we're not pros but we've played together for a lot of years now. We know what each other is capable of doing. And we've lost games and we've come back when it looked sure we were going to lose.

Those poor kids didn't stand a chance last night.

Expected News

The North Beach Bar I play volleyball at in Downers Grove shut down today according to a text message I just got. The bar is located in an old warehouse and has two full sand volleyball courts and 4 bowling lanes. The lease on the place has to be astronomical and, if by some weird chance they own the place, the property taxes would also be ridiculous. For over a year the crowds have been dwindling and the bar management has been complaining that the volleyball players don't spend enough money. Frankly I'm surprised it lasted this long. But I'm sad, too. It was the best volleyball league I played in. I've been away from it for about 2 months because of an injury and was really looking forward to starting up again this week. The league coordinator is looking for some alternative but it's going to be hard to find a facility on short notice. Once it moves the new location, where ever it is, will cause some people to not want to play any more. Plus, I'm not aware of any other indoor sand facilities. Moving to hard court will drive others away. This league may be dead.

Feeling Good With Your Clothes On

Playing volleyball. A good, high set. I made my approach and as I jumped I heard, in stereo, "Aw, shit!"

U.S. Vs. Norway

Last night the U.S. women's Olympic sand volleyball team of Misty May-Trener and Kerri Walsh took on a team from Norway. Misty is commonly referred to as the best defender in the game and Walsh, at 6'2", is one of the best (the best?) power player at the net in the women's game. The U.S. team walked all over the Norse team in the first game.

In the second game, the Norse seemed to change tactics. They started jump serving Walsh. Generally speaking in twos volleyball you don't serve the big hitter on the other team. She'll pass the ball to her partner who will put up a set and then you have to defend their best attack. But it seemed to work for the first 3rd of the game. Walsh struggled with the first pass and it was a tight game. I think it was tied at 8-8 at one point. Walsh got herself under control though and the U.S. rolled on past the Norse.

Other better teams (Cuba, Brazil, etc) may want to take note of that.

Need a Sub

Only 3 of us from the Wednesday volleyball team was going to make the game last night. The league rules say a minimum of 4 to not forfeit.

Kim Y Client Dinner
Erin H. Working 'til 8
Kate Working late
Abby Works til 7:30
Mihai Working late

Renee Doesn't play vb
Tom W Doesn't play vb
Sean Doesn't play
Mike S Doesn't like VB
Bill Doesn't play vb

Becky Playing softball
Eric Playing softball
Ilse Suburban VB league

Mike T Other Plans
JP Busy
Ross Couldn't make it in time
Kim S Ditto
Carrissa Also couldn't make it
Danny Other plans
Matt Other plans

Jeremy In Austria
John In Rockford
Tom R In Kuwait

Val Injured

Troy Didn't have clothes to play in

Karen Didn't Respond
Joe Didn't respond
Niko Didn't respond

Erin Apparently quit team

Random inquiries on Sportsvite... no responses
Random joggers.... OK didn't ask them

We forfeited.

I Offended Hermes

Wednesday night was the first night of the spring volleyball league. I have a new girl on the team, a girlfriend of a softball teammate, who has not played before. She was a definite hole in our defense and the team's defensive rotations were thrown off. We were playing a weaker team but in the first game of the match we were losing and our opponents were on 5 or 6 point run.

I was getting a little frustrated with our lack of defense when our opponents set the ball to my side. Opposite me was their tallest player, a girl who was a couple inches shy of 6 foot. I threw up a hard block. I roofed her. I immediately felt guilt.

Is it sexist? Maybe. But my brother and I have a strict "no blocking girls" rule. Beyond a chivalrous streak, it also has a practical purpose. Most girls we play against aren't getting above the net for a kill. It is easy for them to roll the ball around or over a block.

In the second and third game of the Wednesday match I switched up our rotation to put myself next to our best setter. I had half a dozen good kills and the other team kind of sat down and quit. I really should be playing in a league with a higher skill level but the rest of my team isn't as skilled. They dug a couple of my spikes but only once successfully, and she complained it hurt her arms, and a couple of times they actually ducked away from them.

My Thursday league is almost night and day from the Wednesday league. Thursday is a sand volleyball league, Wednesday we play on a hard court. I'm a better court player. The skill level of my Thursday team is way above the Wednesday team and so is the rest of the league. I'm one of the better players on Thursday but there are 7 to 10 better players. Everyone in that league has played a lot of volleyball. When I go for a kill on Thursday there is no assumption that it will result in a point.


Last night we played the second place team (we should have that distinction but circumstances and all that). They were missing their best player and we should easily have taken all three games but we were sloppy. Our first passes were off target more often than not I was by far the worst passer last night. Our setters struggled, mostly because of our bad first passes. We won the first two games but lost the third. We were up 20-16 in a rally scoring match. We needed one more point or one side out and we would win that match. Instead, the other team went on a 6 point run to beat us 22-20.

I'm convinced Hermes and his volleyball minions punished me for my Wednesday night shenanigans.

We won? I mean, We WON!

My Wednesday softball volleyball (update: you can tell where my mind is) team won the winter league last night. I really didn't think we had it in us. We played the second lowest level but we just didn't have very good ball control as a team. Too many one handed, chicken-wing hits. Too many times sending a free ball over the net on the first or second hit.

But something happened over the past three or four weeks. We started to gel as a team. That teamwork lead to better ball control. The setters were getting good first passes. Good first passes lead to good sets. Good sets lead to good hits.

A couple of us, John and I, out classed the level we were playing at but I've always said that volleyball is one of the most team oriented of the team sports. It is just very hard for one or two people to take over a game. With the rest of the players coming around though we were able to do what we do.

We had some luck. Some how the 9th place team (out of 10) knocked out the 1st place team in the first round. Our seeding allowed us to play back-to-back games on the second night of playoffs as opposed to the team we beat for the championship that had an hour break between their semi-final game and the championship game.

Even with that luck on our side though we pulled it all together. The team improved itself and came out to play. Came out to win. And that's what we did!

On to the spring season to defend our championship.

PAIN!

That has been my life since Thursday night. I subbed in a volleyball game for a friend. We won the first two games of a best of three match and were playing for fun. During the match I and the team captain had complained about an opposing player's continual net violations. At times he would brush the net. On a couple of occasions he cross completely under. One time he was laying on our ten foot (3 meter) line!

That is just fucking dangerous.

I was in the middle front and setting. Something I don't do a lot of. The opposing team had the potential for a spike (hit, attack) so I went for a block. This same guy crossed under the net again. When I came down he was below me. I turned my left ankle and it is SEVERELY sprained. I ran out of obscenities on my fall and laying on the ground. When I AGAIN yelled at the oaf for crossing under the net he innocently asked, "I was under the net?" If I could have stood up he would have left on a stretcher and I would have left in handcuffs.

One of the girls on my team went for ice right away. I kept ice on the ankle for several more hours. I knew it would be sore so I planned to work from home Friday. When I tried to get out of bed I couldn't put my foot down. I literally howled in pain. It hurt more than anything I can ever recall. I'm not trying to claim any kind of He-Man status or anything but I have a very high tolerance for pain. I've reset my dislocated fingers on the softball field and continued to play. For the first time I thought I may have actually broken it. I got a cab and headed for the hospital.

Two hours and three X-Rays later it was determined that all my bones are intact. They wrapped my foot and and ankle a gave me a perscription for Vicodin (Ask for it by name!). When I unwrapped it Saturday night to shower I found this lovely bruising.



Five days later I am hobbling around as best I can. I keep the foot up. Keep it wrapped. Ice it 8 to 10 times a day, and pop a Vicodin (Ask for it by name!) when the pain gets intolerable.

And beside being in more or less constant pain, I'm pissed off. Net violations in volleyball are a major safety concern! I'm lucky, I think, that nothing was broken. But the injury is severe enough that I am going to miss half or more of my summer league seasons: two softball leagues and a volleyball league. I can't ride my bike at the moment but, with a little luck, I will be able to get back on it in a shorter time than it takes me to rejoin the sports teams.

A Rough Night

Last night ended what has been a very painful hard court volleyball season. We played in what was called a Dinker League. It was as upper intermediate level league. My guess is that every team had a couple of people that played high school and college ball. We had one. We finished a miserable last place out of 8 teams. On only one night were we ever competitive and that was when two of my worst players were gone and we played the 7th place team.

Last night the first place team knocked us out of the playoffs with a yawn. Seriously, I had some desire to apologize for my team's play. Oh, we weren't unsportsman like. Not at all. But, three of my players were completely unable to compete at that level. Our opponents were clearly bored. Furthermore, they were clearly upset by one of my player's continued use of a two-handed hit above his head. As my college player noted on the way home, that was always illegal when she played. The ref never called it so he got away with it.

If I wasn't the captain, if I wasn't the team organizer, I probably would have quit several weeks ago. It was that bad. The two-handed hit guy all but refused to try and control the ball. He seemed to think that any time the ball went over the net it was a good thing. That may work in a rec level league but a free ball over the net in this league just meant it was going to be coming back at us with a lot of velocity and moving downwards at a steep angle.

When one of the low-skilled girls asked me between games 1 and 2 if I had any words for the team I just said, "No." In my mind I was thinking, there is nothing I can do to fix this team. We were out classed. If the three low-skilled players were willing and I could work with each of them for an hour or two a day I might be able to improve things after a week or two. But, as I said, at least one of them was not willing. I mean how many times can I say we have to play for three hits (bump, set spike) and we have to control the ball before it sinks in. Before they start to try. Apparently 8 weeks of being beaten into the ground was not enough.

I know this might sound a little snobbish and I guess on some level it is. But it was just a complete mismatch in skills. Half my team (and most of the rest of the league) are pretty highly skilled players. But, the half of my team that wasn't severely brought down the rest of us. They severely lowered the level of play, and hence the level of fun and competition, whenever they were on the court.

I don't like to drink when I'm in a bad mood, but I tied one on last night. I felt humiliated and embarrassed. We won't play hard court again until the fall and I will be changing the make up of the team. It might be uncomfortable removing friends from a team but it has to be done.

Tonight, I've got the second of my weekly sand court leagues. I'm going to be looking to tatoo the %*&#@ ball!