The Boy wrote this post, playing with hashtags — he doesn’t quite understand them yet.
the girl
Back to Normal
Versus Shannon Forest
The girls knew from the start of the season that today's match would be the biggest challenge. They faced Shannon Forest in the regular season and in the championship last year, and while they won both matches, they went to three sets, and each match was a real battle.
Today, when I arrived, I glanced at the scoreboard and saw our girls were down 15-10. Other than a few moments at the beginning of this or that set, it's about the only time they've been behind, and certainly the only time they'd been that far behind that far into the game. They would pull back within two points or so and then lose another two points.
I didn't think their undefeated streak would win -- I thought they'd win the final two sets if they lost the first one. They just weren't playing 100%. And to their credit, their opponents were making phenomenal saves. They didn't have as many heavy hitters as we do, but they took most of the serves and many of the hits and converted them. Still, I thought the girls' perfect season (and by that, I mean not a single set lost) might end this afternoon. In the end, though, they came back to win it 25-22.
The second set started off with our girls jumping into an early, big lead of 7-1. With a lead like that, which they maintained for most of the game (at one point it was 20-12), I thought it was a done deal. The girls of Shannon Forest had other plans, though. One thing everyone has to give those SF girls is that they never give up. Down eight points, with our girls lacking only 5 points to victory while they had to double their score and then some, they still fought for every ball. And they started clawing back. And soon it was 21-17. And I thought, "They might do to our girls what our girls just did to them." But it seemed impossible: our girls are good. They can take the hits, pop them up to the setter, who sets up one of three frontline hitters, who can then almost always hit well and often hit with incredible power and speed.
With every point, the home team scored, the home crowd erupted. The SF girls danced and screamed with each point as they pulled it back to 23-22. I could understand their joy: the Langston girls were the big dogs, so to speak. They'd rolled through the season last year and took the championship. They were doing the same this year. To take them down, to take one set -- I've been in that position. Not in sports but in academic bowl competitions. In the final match of the year, our team took down an until-then undefeated team.
Just one point down.
But it was not to be. They made a couple of errors, and we had a good hit or two, and it was all over. Our perfect season is still perfect, with one more match tomorrow night.
In the championship tournament, though, Shannon Forest will likely meet our girls again. And they will remember how they began that first set. And they will be out for revenge.
Learning
"Hey, there's a grass volleyball tournament in town this weekend. Want to go play?" L asked.
"Sure," her best friend N replied.
That's how it started. So two good friends who both have a couple years' experience playing volleyball but no experience playing two-girl volleyball -- no experience at all, not just no experience playing together in pairs volleyball -- set out this morning to see how they'd do.
It was a learning experience, to say the least.
Not only did they not win a single set, their total points scored for six sets (54) didn't even average out to 10 points per game. To say they got their butts kicked is really quite an understatement.
It's not something she's used to in volleyball. Last year, her school's team won every single match and only dropped three or four sets the entire season. This year, with only two matches remaining, they haven't lost a single set. They are used to delivering the smackdown, not receiving it.
But it wasn't always like that either for the Girl. When she first started playing volleyball, she tried out for the school team in sixth grade and didn't make the cut. We put her in YMCA volleyball and her team didn't do well at all.
As a parent watching my daughter play volleyball, I always have some mixed emotions. During the last season, her team struggled mightily: they didn’t win a single match, if memory serves, and they only won a handful of sets. It was rough. Lots of frustration in the car after games.
“We won’t ever win.”
Several matches, they were swept, three sets to nothing. There was nothing immediately redeemable about that. I said what any parent would say: “You’re getting stronger.” “This is building character.” “This shows how tough you are, that you keep at it despite the challenges.” (Source)
Still, even then they weren't getting beaten brutally.
Today, they were. Completely outclassed. Completely and mercilessly beaten by girls who had much more experience than they do.
Point after point, set after set, game after game, they kept playing. They lost by scores like 21-7 and kept playing. They made silly mistakes and went for several points without actually earning a point but gaining points only from unforced errors and still, they kept playing.
I'm not sure when I was prouder of L.
As the morning progressed, they improved. They figured out some of the little strategic differences that pairs volleyball demands. They worked together more. Their game became a little more analytic. They grew.
What's more, when we asked the girls if they'd enjoyed it, they insisted they'd had fun. And I believe them. So a successful lesson on many levels.
Down at the Trampoline
Together
It used to happen more often: the kids and I would play something together and for a while, everything else disappeared. It's been a long time since that's happened. This afternoon, we had a little reminder of what that was like.
As the Girl gets older, she's less and less interested in the things the Boy loves. He can't handle the ever-decreasing attention and resorts to the old tried-and-true method of getting attention: he pesters her.
"That just makes her want to spend even less time with you, buddy," I've explained more times than I can recall.
"Okay," he grudgingly admits. And then heads off to pester her again.
Today, though, we went down to the trampoline/swing/hammock area and managed to play like we were all five years old again. There was laugher. There was silliness.
And then we came up to get dinner ready, and it all disappeared.
"E!" cried L, stretching his name into a three-second yell. "Leave me alone!" He was at it again.
Volleyball Tuesday
The girls had another game today. It was the same as previous games: complete slaughter. At one point, the girls were up in the first set something like 18-3. The coach, being an individual of character, always starts pulling out his big hitters when it's obvious where the game is going, but at the same time, he wants to give them court time. (Still, when the poor opponents can't even return an underhand serve after the coach pulled our best server while she was serving, what's the quality of play they get?)
This was a private school, the private school in the area. Eighth-grade tuition is $21,510. The team in Spartanburg we beat mercilessly was also from a private school, but its tuition was only something like $17k a year. For whatever reason, one would think they would have better teams. And they probably do: it turns out that in most of these private schools that also include a high school, the eighth graders get shuttled up to the high school JV or even varsity team, so our girls are playing sixth and seventh graders.
Today was only a scrimmage game, though. It doesn't count toward anyone's record. Still, if it was only a scrimmage, why couldn't we scrimmage with the JV or even varsity team?
Neighbors’ Signs and Our Swings
We went for our typical walk this evening -- a route that wanders primarily through the neighborhood on the other side of the main-ish street off of which several neighborhoods spiral. As we walked by a house, a man came up to us saying that he'd been meaning to meet us several times he's seen us go by. It seems he's quite the border collie fan and has noticed our cute pup as we walk by. We got to talking and talk turned to corona. He pointed to a sign in his yard -- not quite like the sign at right but the same general idea -- and said, "I guess it's obvious where I stand."
I glanced over at the sign in his neighbor's yard. I found myself wondering how they get along. I know for a fact that my views are more liberal than our neighbors' views, but I tend not to talk about politics with them. When the topic does come up, I might make a non-committal comment every now and then, but by and large, I keep my views to myself.
It's not that I think they'll be angered that I have different views than they hold. It's not that I fear damaging the relationship we have (though I wonder if they might not think less of me were they to know what I think of our president). I just don't see the point in adding politics into a relationship like that.
It reminds me of Frost's line, "Good fences make good neighbors," and while I don't necessarily agree with the sentiment, I would say good fences make great backyards. As do swings, hammocks, trampolines, dogs, and tennis balls.
A Walk and First Bonfire
In the afternoon, we took the dog to the dog park. It's not that we felt she needed the exercise; rather, we felt she needed some canine socialization. We couldn't go to our favorite park without a walk, though, so after the dog had had enough (or rather, we'd had enough), we headed out for a short jaunt.
We likely would have made a bit longer walk of it had our favorite park not recently banned pets and bikes from the unpaved areas. K emailed the park administration about it, and they explained that it was due to a number of complaints about off-leash dogs and crazed cyclists who put others at risk and damage the flora. But the thing is, K pointed out on our walk today, we rarely saw others on the off-road trails. There were a couple of more-popular trails that had more traffic, but by and large, we were the only ones we ever saw there.
There is a certain temptation to say, "Forget it -- we don't damage anything, and we wouldn't dream of letting Clover off-leash, so we're going to walk the trails anyway." But we follow rules even when we don't like them. (Insert political comment here.)
After the walk, we let the kids play on the playground a bit. The biggest kid got a kick out of trying to do the same tricks the middle kid did.
To top off the weekend, we had the first bonfire of the autumn 2020 season.
Volleyball Thursday
