I am sore all over. The soreness is from the volleyball tournament on Saturday. Randall and his girlfriend came over to our place Friday night. I picked up pizza for us and we ate pizza and drank. Later in the night we sat down and watched Idiocracy again, with me proclaiming it as one of the funniest movies we ever saw. I am not sure if Randall and his girlfriend thought it was as funny as I did, but they did plenty of laughing along the way. The alcohol made me very tired and since we had to get up early for the tournament we packed it in before 11.
Saturday morning Randall, his girlfriend and I left a little after 7. Ali was talking about coming later in the day after she did a class at the gym. We got to the tournament site in about 45 minutes, a joy compared to the 2 hours it typically takes me to get to the east coast tournaments. This was a Zephyr Hills tournament which is fancier than the other tour that runs through the state. Zephyr Hills has better t-shirts, better free hand outs and all the free water you want. The other tour gives you a boring, white t-shirt and that is it. The tourney shirt for this event was Eagles green, I like it a lot.
Randall and I did our typical throw the football around warm up that was implemented a decade ago by Rich and I. Originally there were supposed to be two nets of 4 teams each. One team was a no show so our net became a three team net. In the past in that situation, we normally would wind up playing two games against each team in the pool instead of one game. However the tournament organizers said we would be playing best two out of three against each team, a format I never did before in 15 years of playing ball. Instead of being to 21 or 25 points, each game was a shorter 15 points.
We lucked out in our schedule. We are the only team on the net that didn’t have to play back to back matches. It was quite warm and staying out on the court for a minimum of 4 straight games with the possibility of 6 straight games, was not something I was interested in. We played in the first match. The team we played had one kid I remembered playing a few years back and another younger guy that was very athletic. The guy I knew was a shot maker. His play style reminded me of Brian up north. He would place the ball where you weren’t and if he got a set he could hit the ball hard as well. His partner was a bit more erratic but made up for it with rabbit quickness and a seemingly endless energy reserve.
Our first game against them was horrid. We lost something like 15-6. Randall and I took turns making unforced error after unforced error, mostly shanked passes. It was not the start we were looking for. So after only a couple minute break, we had to try to pull things together and play them again. Game two was a different story. We made some plays and the serving practice I did before the game was helping. Although I wasn’t hitting the ball as hard as I would like on the serve, I was hitting it high, with some downspin that would make the ball move as it approached, making it hard to pass accurately. Randall got his serve working that game as well. The game was close and we managed to win the game 21-19, well past the game to 15 format. You had to win by two and there was no cap.
We felt much better about ourselves after that win. Game three was tight but we wound up losing that one. It seemed like most scrambles and lucky breaks went the other team’s way that game. So our start was 1-2 but the good thing was that we totally controlled our destiny if we took care of the other team in our second match.
During the first match I was having way too may rants and outbursts, swearing loudly and just generally making an ass out of myself. After the match I saw that there were two or three young kids around watching their dads play, which made me feel like a big dick. The rest of the day I made a conscious effort to knock off the loud swearing. I knew if I was there with my kid and heard someone carrying on like I was, I would think I was an asshole. I managed to keep things more or less under control the rest of the day.
So our second match came up, it was against two guys in college, one named Jose the other named Kiran. Kiran was from the UK and he is a very a good soccer player. He only started playing volleyball this year. You could tell the guy is a great athlete, for just starting to play, he was extremely good. During a timeout in the match, he put on a little exhibition of his ball juggling abilities where he used his feet and head only. It was rather amazing. He used his soccer abilities to make foot saves two or three times, it was amazing. If he got a good set, he could crush the ball. As a result, the majority of our serves went to Jose. We managed to beat them handily both games, wrapping up our playoff spot. Randall and I played well. I had some confidence in my hitting and as a result did a decent amount of hitting on two with success. I even had a hit or two in my favorite spot, hard angle, short.
In between the matches Randall and I went up and took a dip in the hotel pool. I wasn’t sure if technically I was allowed to but I didn’t much care. I figured the worst that could happen is someone could tell me no. The water was very warm, it almost felt like it was body temperature. Randall joked it was from all of the pee in the pool. Well it was wet so it served it’s purpose.
So the playoffs got underway. We played a team with a tall lanky kid like me and a shorter skinny guy. Again the shorter guy got the majority of the serves and again, aggressive serving worked well for us. We won the game rather easily and were into the semi-finals.
The semi-final was against the first place team off the other net, another pair of young, athletic guys that could both hit hard. Randall ran into Steve Sax syndrome during this match and could hardly get a serve in. However I didn’t give him a ton of shit about it because he was trying to do hard aggressive serves which is what was working for us all day. My bump setting wasn’t as consistent as it should have been but even so, Randall managed to make some nice plays off of bad sets. But in the end we just couldn’t afford that many unforced errors and we wound up losing the semis 25-20. It was mildly disappointing but compared to what transpired at my last outing, it was a 100% improvement.
Ali never did make it to the tournament. For some reason I thought her class at the gym was at 9:30 but it wasn’t until 10:30. By the time she would have gotten up there, there was a good chance we would be almost done or done completely so I just told her to not bother. She felt bad about it but it was just miscommunication. She used the extra time to mow the grass which was cool since I certainly didn’t feel up to doing it.
We had one more game to play, the 3/4 playoff to decide who finishes “in the money”. Third place gets prizes, 4th does not. We wound up playing Jose and Kiran again and again we handled them rather easily. I was fine with a third place finish which earned Randall and I a matching set of towels that were actually pretty nice. I was pretty beat up all over but surprisingly, my knees were not leading the way in the pain department.
My left shoulder was hurting pretty bad as a result of my harder serving and frequent hitting. I had a new injury I never had before. The beefy part of my left palm looked like tenderized meat. It was all swollen and reddish/purple. I am not quite sure how I did that. I am guessing it was either from catching the point of the football during warm ups or from one of the handful of blocks I had, a couple of which went off my hands rather hard. The rest of my body just felt sort of beat up.
So we packed up our ample amount of equipment and headed home. I hopped in the pool to get the outer layer of scuz off me. Randall followed suit. Then we cleaned up and got ready to go out for dinner. I did an abbreviated icing session on both my knees as a preventative measure although in all honesty they didn’t feel nearly as bad as I expected them to. Randall had suggested Carraba’s since he knew it was one of my favorite restaurants.
Going there on a Saturday night meant a long wait for sure. The girls were told an hour wait when they grabbed the buzzer. However Randall spotted an outside table that was available. His girlfriend and he were fine with sitting outside. If it was just me, I would have probably opted for waiting it out and sitting inside for no other reason than I just like the atmosphere inside the place. But Randall and I were both hungry so it wasn’t hard to convince me to skip the hour wait.
Sitting outside wasn’t bad, the sun was out of sight and we had a noisy ceiling fan right above us keeping a nice breeze on us at all times. The only time I felt bad about it was later in the meal when I noticed a fly/bug kept bothering Randall’s girlfriend. The food was excellent as ever and our waiter was very nice. Randall initially was going to pay for the entire meal which I objected strongly to. I threw him 40 bucks to cover our half and threw the bill on his credit card. Although I never saw the total of the bill, so I am hoping I tossed him enough.
By the time we got back home we were both exhausted. Nicki, who throughout the weekend would constantly cycle between being afraid of Randall to liking Randall, once again acted like she never saw him before and barked as we came in the door. We all sacked out around 10 o’clock.
Sunday morning I crawled out of bed feeling like a 70 year old man. It was hard to identify any major body parts that didn’t hurt in some manner. It wasn’t unexpected. This is normally how I feel if I don’t play volleyball regularly. If I was playing every other week, the aftermath would be much less severe. I popped my two advil and started my day.
The girls made plans to go shopping at the outlets with my mom later in the morning. During the morning I walked around the house, slowly, doing a few things around the house. After the girls left, Randall and I sat around like “men” and first watched 300 (although we both have seen it multiple times) followed by watching three straight hours of World Series of Poker. Watching the poker was strangely addicting. The interaction between and personalities of the players was very entertaining. I definitely would like to learn more about the game although I don’t think I would be very good at it at all.
Sitting still for that amount of time made me feel like a lazy slug, I just don’t ever do it. Well I don’t ever do it except when I am sitting in front of WoW where my brain and hands are active at least. The girls shopping trip went long and they didn’t get home until around 5. Randall and his girlfriend still had to drive back across the state so they packed their stuff up, thanked us for our hospitality and were on their way.
Five minutes after their departure we too were on the road, dropping the party van off at the garage for it’s check up. I am awaiting the call from the garage with anxiety. I fully expect this to be a big bill. I typed up a comprehensive list of the issues and stapled it to the prior bill so they could refer to what was done previously and included it with my keys. I just want the thing to be right, as right as it can be at 14 years old with 119k on the odometer.
My sister called me on Sunday, asking me about details of the trip out west so we can coordinate getting together. During the call she gave me some more details about my dad’s place he didn’t mention. Besides living in the middle of the desert with no AC, the house apparently is infested with spiders and mice/rats. They also have a bad rattlesnake problem, they are everywhere. Well my mom heard the same details from my sister and relayed them to Ali. Now Ali is freaked out about staying there. The idea of spiders under her pillow is not appealing and she is terrified of the idea of Nicki getting bit by a rattlesnake. So I have to talk to my dad and see how bad things really are and go from there. I reassured Ali we would “work it out” She didn’t feel reassured by my assurance.
No 300 today, I am way too sore.