The bright fluorescent lights shine throughout the gymnasium almost blinding me like a ray of sunlight. All I hear around me is ''eek ,eek, bomp.'' ''eek, eek, bomp''. When the rubbers of those new Mizuno Lightning sneakers hug those freshly waxed floors. The freshly pumped Molten volleyballs hitting the ground with such power and impact; every contact like a strong heartbeat.
I drop my duffel, removing my Addidas slipper, replacing them with my reliable Asics sneakers. Feels good having the rubber soles rub against the floor. I roll my socks up and put on my knee pads. I gather with teammates; my family really. We hurdle into a group, embracing each others warmth, feeling each others heartbeats. Our hands assemble together in the middle. We push down, down and up chanting ''1, 2,3 play hard ! ''.
We line up in a row, protecting our frontier as our captains flip the coin as our war begins. We high five the hands of our opposing team and wish them luck as they do the same. We wait anxiously as the referee goes over our line ups. ''1, 17, 23, 13, 5, and 19. We stay in our positions like Queens Guards, our faces expression less and our feet planted to the ground. As the whistle blows, everyone immediately shifts as if a bull saw a red flag waving. Every member of the team shifts into position as every pair of feet follow the ball as it travels around the court. The server calls ''service'' as she contacts the ball, setting a loose cannon ball onto court. It's like feeding time at the zoo, as everyone is hungry for the ball. I pass the ball feeling my knees bend and pouncing back up with the ball. The setter follows it as it contacts her fingers ; setting it high towards the outside hitter. The hitter takes her three steps left, right, left as her hands flap back and forth; ready to soar. She springs off the ground and into the air, slapping the ball perfectly cross-court. The libero dives attempting to keep the ball off the ground but fails as the ball lands perfectly on to court. My team mates chant ''chick chick boom'' as we all rejoice with a radiant smile. Win or lose, it is the love of the game that keeps us coming back on to court.
You depicted the thrill of playing volleyball very well with figurative language. Drawing an analogy between volleyballs hitting the ground and the beating of hearts strongly referenced the theme you established in your first paragraph about love. I also found it interesting how you stated that serving the volleyball was like setting off a "loose cannon." Finally, your comparison of the players fighting for the ball with "feeding time at the zoo" was very amusing. I enjoyed reading your piece because of such descriptive language.
ReplyDeleteI also use sports as sanctuaries and so I can relate to this. I agree that if you have passion for something, it becomes much more than "just a game" or just a hobby.