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Tonight, L's volleyball career ended. She won't be playing in college, and we've all decided to use the money we would have put toward a final club season to other uses (like adding some time in Greece this summer for her senior trip). So six years of volleyball came to an end in the second round of playoffs against a team from Clover, South Carolina.

We've passed the exit to Clover countless times over the years. It's just before the turn off highway five to Aunt D's house -- Aunt D, who helped take care of both Nana and Papa, who has a heart that gives endlessly. We commented often on how funny it was that there was a town named after our dog. Strange how these little turns appear unexpectedly in our lives: L's final game in a town we've known and had a private joke about for years but which we never would have imagined visiting.

In a sense, that's been the common theme of L's volleyball career. To begin with, when she mentioned in sixth grade that she wanted to try out for the middle school volleyball team, I was a little surprised. She'd played soccer at the Y as a kid, but she wasn't interested in continuing it. If she devoted her free time to anything, I would have, back then, assumed it would have been dance. She always seemed a bit more showy than athletic as a young child. But once she made her decision to try out for the team, nothing could stop her. Not even not making the team the first year. If anything, that increased her determination.

Once she became obsessed with volleyball, I never would have imagined she could be part of a state championship team. Such occurrences are fairly rare: one has to be at the right place (or rather, on the right team) at the right time. But two years ago (almost to the day), her high school team took the state championship.

There was a time it seemed unimaginable that she wouldn't play volleyball in college. She seemed so dedicated to it, and she was improving by leaps and bounds each year. But it was not to be: she didn't get any interest from any of the colleges she wanted to attend, and she made the decision that she wouldn't choose a college just because she could play volleyball there.
Of course, there were the initial expectations about this year. "We're not going to win any games this year!" she declared after the first few practices and warm-up tournaments. And it seemed like they wouldn't be able to get their game together, but the did. And they finished second in the region.

They got further than they ever expected; they achieved more than they thought they could. But that last game -- it was tough to go out like that. They just couldn't get things together, achieving the same dismal results in the first two sets: 14-25. I thought they'd fall apart completely in the third set, but they got themselves together and took the game to a fourth set with a 28-26 win in the third. In the fourth set, they had the same trouble they had in the first two sets and lost 17-25.

It was a tough way to end a wonderful six years of volleyball, and the Girl had difficulty holding back the tears. She broke down after last year's final game as well. She said it was out of sadness for losing the seniors: "It's the last time I'll play with them." I think in the back of her head, though, she knew in a year it would be her turn. She wants to put herself forward as a no-nonsense type of kid, but I think she's got just a little of my sentimentality in the mix.
Tonight was the Girl's last regular-season volleyball game. Not of the year. Of her high school career. We have at least one more game as playoffs start: we'll be playing someone somewhere this Thursday, but we won't know until tomorrow morning who and where.
Six years of volleyball are coming to an end. It's hard not to get a little emotional about that. Last year, with the conclusion of the season's final game (the second or so round into the playoffs -- perhaps the first? I can't remember), L was in tears at the end of the game. "It's just that's the last time we'll be playing with our seniors," she said as she explained that she wasn't in tears so much because of the loss.
The shoe is on the other foot now, one could argue. It's the other girls who should be crying because they're losing L. "It's just that we'll never play with L or S again," they should be saying. Or maybe the tears last year weren't just about the senoirs leaving.



Before the game, we had a ceremony with intros, pictures, and cheers. The girls on the team made gift baskets and posters for the two seniors, and there was a display in the gym entry. The coach had asked parents last week to send some pictures of the girls from various points in their childhood and in their volleyball careers, and she chose a baby picture of each girl and had t-shirts made for the parents. Coincidentally, she chose the same picture Papa's coworkers chose years ago to make a shirt for him as he retired (for the second time? third?).
After the coin toss and warmups, the girls were introduced -- possibly the last time L is introduced on her home court where the cheers are the loudest and most sincere.



As for the game itself, it was a fairly simple matter: Greenwood's divisional record before tonight was 1-12. We'd already beaten them once, and we won easily tonight. But I have to hand it to those Greenwood girls: it takes a lot to keep coming out game after game when you're stacking up loss after loss, almost all of them in straight sets.




Afterward, there were the usual shots -- with the unusual shirts.





The end of an era is nearing. Tonight was the next-to-last home game in L's high school volleyball career. It's likely to be highly emotional on Monday when it's the last home game, but tonight, there wasn't time for emotion. It was time for revenge.
Our girls were playing Hillcrest, a team that beat them 1-3 earlier in the year. However, they lost in five sets to Easley, whom our girls beat soundly in straight sets the first time they met this season and won again (though in five sets) the other night at home. It was, in my eyes, a must-win game.
The Girl thought so, too.

The Mavs started off weakly, though: they trailed most of the first set, and in the end, lost it 19-25. "The Hillcrest girls are so confident," K observed, "despite the fact that they've lost their last five matches."
Everyone knew the second set was a critical set: lose it, and it would be hard to win the match. Reverse sweeps are not unheard of, but they are rare. We pulled ahead quickly in the second set, and then launched a huge attack that ended the set with a 25-17 win.

One set each makes the third set the momentum-maker: whoever wins that one needs to win only one more set. At first, I didn't think our girls wanted it: they trailed by about five at one point. But they pulled back and pulled ahead. Then they let Hillcrest catch up. In the end, though, they held them off and won 25-22.
The momentum was definitely on our girls' side of the court that fourth set: they pulled ahead after being behind 1-4 and never looked back, winning a deciding third set 25-22. It extended the Hillcrest girls' losing streak to six, and while I usually don't like seeing someone lose like that, I didn't mind too much tonight.

Neither did our girls.
