Sports have been a big part of my life ever since I started high school. I would never call myself an athlete to be remembered for the ages, or even the next down but I always tried my best and I just enjoy getting out and being part of team that turns into family. This past Tuesday one of the male teachers in the school came up to me and asked if I would like to play volleyball with some of the other teachers the next day. Of course, I will never pass up an opportunity to leave school early to play sports. They told me to bring athletic-wear for the following day.
Next day came and I wore shorts underneath my khakis and a white t-shirt under a sweater and collared shirt. The other teachers who were obviously playing were repping tracksuits or sweats and hoodies. Once 3:00 rolled around I had just wrapped up my storytelling class (which is going smoothly by the way) hopped in a car with the old gym teacher and drove off to the same place I play pick-up on Sundays. He asked me on the drive how good I was at Volleyball, having not played in a year I told him I was a C volleyball student which didn't seem to thrill him. Not one bit.
The gym was like your typical Western elementary school gymnasium-auditorium combo. The only difference was it was four stories off the ground with wooden floors and a rounded roof like a tunnel. When I stepped into the tube some of the female teachers from our school were playing another school of teachers. It was so bizarre: no rotation, nine players on at time, and nets maybe two meters high. I knew there would be something bizarre like this but I honestly thought this would be a misogyny thing. As I walked around the gym to the stage to stretch with the other teachers paranoia creeped into my mind. Koreans are super competitve. They'd never play co-ed volleyball, and that's all I've played since Grade 11 gym. Then I remembered the last time I actually played volleyball I sprained my thumb off of a spike and subsequently went into shock (coincidentally the only time I have specific food cravings). Questions started blowing up in my head: How good is this other team going to be? Will they just be a collection of strong youthful educators who have played volleyball they're whole lives? Am I going to die? No, I'm going to be that girl Greg Focker shattered in Meet the Parents. I looked around at the rest of the teachers, the elderly men, my recruiter (an average looking guy), and the other young teacher who wouldn't surprise anyone if he played Star Craft on a daily basis. Nice knowing you, gentlemen.
To make matters worse the teacher, wearing a steel track suit, who recruited me into this ordeal got me off the stage and warming up with a couple volleys. I had never noticed until then how enormous of a man he was because he was always so kind, friendly, and had a really joyous laugh. Underneath his suit though was a terminator build. After barely satisfying my own standards he starts warming up my bump, throwing over hand into my forearms. It felt like bumping an over-sized baseball coming out of a pitching machine. My arms were bright red after about 10 reps. "Don't worry it will go away." he said, "and then the [last] game [of your life] will start."
Thankfully my thoughts were simply thoughts and not fact. The game was co-ed with teachers from my school and it was 9-on-9. This should be the most non-threatening game of volleyball in my mundane career. Then something happened. A player on the other team hit the ball into the net and then hit it over without another player touching it. Forgive me if I'm wrong but I believe this is a classic example of a "double hit." We kept the rally going for reasons I didn't understand and we ultimately lost the point. Confused, I went over and explained it was our point using hand gestures and a calm, but stern, voice that he had been at fault. His blunt reply: "I know, but this is Korean rule" . . . WTF!
We wiped the floor with them, beating them in all 3 sets and the odd "rule" was forgotten. Afterwards I was told this was an exhibition game for the tournament coming up in May. Maybe this will be the time I meet the team of ringers. Fingers crossed it isn't though. The next day one of the specialist teachers who was playing before me told my co-teachers I went beyond their expectations. It was really nice to hear and hopefully this further paves my way into the hearts of my school staff.
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