Volleyball

We play in a volleyball league on Wednesday nights. We lost last night, our second of the season.

Losing is usually frustrating, but not worth stewing over to a point that prevents enjoying time with friends.

But last night I played like a sixth-grade novice. I hit the ball a dozen times, once pretty well, twice more a bit better, missed two in the beginning because of my terrible ... timing, and instead of turning the crank on half a dozen solid sets, I dinked it over the net, zero times gaining a point. And I couldn't pass to save Sheree's life. And it even started getting to me in the game, probably contributing to some passive play that saw some balls that should have been mine to be passed poorly by teammates acting on my distraction.

One concept team sports teaches is how a chain is only as strong as the weakest link. It kills me to let down the team, so Sheree is going to have to hit a thousand balls my way and force me to use good form and teach me to pass more like Karch.

And should we lose again, I won't have to pout like a petulant child.