I watched the women’s beach volleyball gold medal match last night and I have to say that after the first game, I wasn’t worried at all. I knew they’d win it. The first game was just to size up the other team with their crazy Chinese fans yelling in the stands. There was a moment during the first game (score was around 13-10) when the Chinese team got three points in a row to tie up. Homegirl (the drama queen one) was getting the serves and hitting the tape so that it rolled over and dropped just on our team’s side. The fans went nuts and even the line men were flipping their flags up or down with enthusiasm. During those three points it felt like the dreams of the Chinese team might actually be possible… a spark. They were smiling and happy and reveling in the glory of it all. And then there was a sideout and USA shut them down. They were neck and neck up until 17 points, but after that May and Walsh went for the jugular.

China celebrated too soon during those three points. The dream was like a flame that never took. The second game blew any chance of it right out. And the Chinese drama queen used three different ways up her sleeve to stall the inevitable. She stopped the game when she fussed with her ponytail and hat. She took a while to try to get sand out of her eye after Walsh intimidated her at the net pretending to hit the ball when it threatened to come over on the second hit. She even faked an injury or maybe she just wanted the medic to give her a massage on her arm. Whatever. It didn’t work. They got up to 18 points like they did the first game, and that was it. An image of them sprawling on the sand and getting the ball pounded at them is all that remains.

I’m proud of the way May and Walsh handled themselves even through the mistakes. It’s just a game afterall, and you can’t really think about it too hard. Not like Branaugh and Youngs, the other US team. Holy cow, their behavior was embarrassing. Poor EY, her last Olympics and her partner acted like a spoiled thirteen-year-old. Both of them making mistakes, but Branaugh unable to keep her anger in check and refusing to speak to her partner. The camera even caught her rolling her eyes at something EY said. Tsk, tsk! None of that emotion was evident with Misty and Kerri… they were focused and steady.

It was after the match when they got all goofy. Misty was jazzercising along with the Chinese cheerleaders. Kerri was looking around for someone to hug. It was weird how they took off separately instead of staying together the way they do when they’re playing. Still, it’s nice to see them acting human after such focused iron faces during the match.

Congratulations to these girls. Now go make some babies already.

I was supposed to post this yesterday, but since I’m doing it now… Here’s my take on the men’s team.

Congratulations to the US Men’s Beach VBall team! I just watched Dalhausser figure out how to block the Brazilian team (ooh, man, they’re scary) in a third game. The first game was tied all the way to set point and BRA was looking invincible. The second game hurt a lot, but Rogers and Dalhausser kept their cool even when Dalhausser’s blocks were looking like field goals (close the gap!). I will say that BRA got shown a yellow card almost unfairly. True, he probably was being as much of an a$$ as he looked to be doing, but Dalhausser touched the ball upon closer scrutiny.

What is it with the men’s teams and owning to their touches? We saw it happen with the indoor men’s team also. My face actually blushed when our indoor team didn’t own up. Don’t they know that cheaters never prosper? And that they’re representing our country? It makes winning cheap and losing ungraceful. Funny how I don’t feel as strongly about it for beach as I do for indoor… maybe because indoor has always been so mathematical and strict while beach has that hakuna matatah attitude.

At any rate, the third game was a slaughter. Way to go USA! Two gold medals to add to the pile.

The only problem with this is missing whatever’s on the TV… but how generous of Josh to let me have a crack at the laptop! He luvs me! 

OK, I have nothing to blog about. Hmmmm. Yeah… OK. Writer’s block. A nice cozy (this thing is warm on my legs) piece of technology and I got nothin’.

Well… I played volleyball tonight. I went to the FLC and our team got beat bad by three girls. The level of competition is not so high over there, but the atmosphere is the best and it’s the kids’ favorite gym. They get to run around like banshees and the place is so big that it doesn’t really bother anyone. I went to The Gym afterwards and played three-on-three for a few hours.

Remember that Spanish speaking guy that almost made me cry? He was not on my team tonight. My teammate came in last and got stuck on his team because they were only playing with two. They figured the UT guy could be brought down to our level if he had two girls on his team. It still didn’t do much to slow him down, but we didn’t keep score, so the masacre was endless. I said to my teammate that “Jose” was going to make him cry. He laughed it off, but after a few rounds he said, “How about we keep score and then switch the teams up?” They were making him set and he wasn’t getting a chance to hit. Then, he tried to schmooze me, but I said, “Uh-uh. I’m scared to switch with you.” Finally, there was a certain timbre in his voice that got to me when he said, “You know, I’d like to hit some.” It was a whiney, desperate cry.

So I switched with him and was like the lamb to the slaughter. It wasn’t so bad. My teammate said through the net, “You’re doing well over there.” I said, “I am?!” And he said, “Yeah, he hasn’t yelled at you yet.” I think Jose started to get a clue when my teammate and I switched and when the other guy on our team just walked off the court and out of the gym completely at one point. I survived. Kind of… if you count the pain in my shoulder, the pulled muscle in my crotch, the soreness in my left foot, and my all-around hobble to get myself into this recliner in the first place as survival. (Advil is my friend tonight.) Can you tell how much I like this sport?

So we’re getting rocked by a hail storm on and off tonight. Josh’s mom, the weather junkie, called to let him know that Dallas got rocked by softball-sized hail and San Antone got hit by tennis ball-sized hail and that it was heading our way. He hoped that it would shrink more in size by the time it hit us. I haven’t been able to get up from the chair to check it out. (Did I mention the pain in my other arm?) I can see the lighting flashing through the window that is covered with a giant sticker.

You know, I love that about the mainland… you actually get to see lightning when it’s storming. I didn’t see much of that in Hawaii or California, but lots going on in places between CA and TX, especially AZ and NM. I saw lots of it when we were moving here. I know lightning is something you don’t think is cool when you’re swimming (and they do kick you out of the pool if there are thunderstorms) or exposed outside, but it sure is a cool light show from heaven when you’re sitting on a covered and screened in lanai in the dark waiting for the flashes to come and light everything up.

It makes me wonder who got to design lightning… I mean, I know Heavenly Father created the earth and the universe, but if there are worlds without end, doesn’t that mean more art projects? Does he do them himself, or does he let his children play, too? Think about it… how do we feel when our kids draw something amazing? Don’t we post it on myspace and blog about it? Doesn’t Heavenly Father do the same thing, in a way? A much bigger way, of course.

OK… it’s late. I’m talking bubbles. Feel free to comment. Gonna sign off now. This thing is really hot on my legs, the TV is off, and Josh is probably regretting letting me touch the laptop.

For all of you out there wondering what to write about… just say anything. I just did. So let me hear you holler back now.

trish~*

Tonight’s volleyball game was awesome! Good fun. Good volleyball. We played the toughest team I think we’ll face and we won. Woo-hoo! And bouncy girl? It’s all good. She was calling me by name, looking me in the eye, leaving me my space. So we’ll just call her D from now on… so any negative thoughts are no longer in the air.

later,
trish

So do you ever show up to play ball and meet someone who does not know your place in the world? It’s nothing that they actually say in words to you, but it’s all in the body language.

I showed up late to my game because I couldn’t just throw the kids in the car and go (Zack’s still not doing too good… flu is kicking his butt right now), but had to wait for Josh to get home from downtown. He usually gets home way late on Fridays, but all I had to do was ask, and he came through for me. He called me just before he turned on our street so that I could jump in the car and be ready to roll when he drove up. Kind of like a relay race.

It’s a good thing the gym is right around the corner in my neighborhood. Probably took me like 60-65 seconds to get there, but the game had already started when I walked in. I was all jazzed because I had just finished doing taxes and the day will only get better when there is volleyball involved.

So there was this girl playing on our team that I have never seen before. She seemed very bouncy and upbeat just in the few seconds it took for me to get my shoes on and tied. My team noticed I was ready and asked the ref if I can just jump on (they were playing with only five players–would have been four if not for bouncy girl). So I did, and the game continued. We have been playing with five players for the last three weeks because one of the girls had to drop out, and it doesn’t bother us much because we keep winning.

When we won the game and switched sides it was a perfect time to introduce myself to the way too bouncy younger girl with her tight little shorts and body parts all in the right places and proportions. I said, “I’m Trish, what’s your–” and she interrupted me to tell me her name and then the shortened version of it and how so many people just called her by the first letter of her name. The whole time she was talking, she did not look at me, but was looking at the boys on our team. I pushed through with another question. I asked if she was just subbing or if she was going to be part of our team now. She looked at Steve, the guy who makes all the decisions even though he’s not the captain because he played for UT and can really cream the ball, and he shrugged and said that as long as she can keep coming, she can be on the team. I put on my excited face and said how great it was because we have been playing with five and need another girl anyway. And still, she did not look at me. Weird.

Not knowing anything about this girl, like did she come with Steve, are they dating? Or maybe she’s dating Jason? I did the only thing a girl in my position would do… while waiting for our team to serve I said to Steve, “She’s cute.” And he laughed and said, “Yeah, and she’s only 22.” Not sure what he meant by that, but I figured he wasn’t dating her. I didn’t really try to converse with her for the rest of the game, but I did call out a few atta-boys when appropriate (“Nice up”, “Good Serve”, “Great Pass”).

So we win the game without really breaking a sweat, but Steve has us all lined up to play at another gym in Atascocita, and it’s called The Gym. Pretty original, right? For some reason, the volleyball there seems more competitive. The first and last time I had played there I was almost brought to tears by a Spanish-speaking incredible player who asked me in heavily accented English if I was going to play deep or not because he could work around whatever I chose to do (“That was my ball, but I don’t touch it because you are there. So just tell me if you’re going to play deep or short or what…”). Gee whiz, just tell me in short sentences to play deep. It didn’t help that I shanked the next three serves in a row. I could feel the blood rushing to my face… but that’s not what we’re here to discuss…

Bouncy girl came along to The Gym, and I was playing it cool because I wasn’t getting a vibe of comraderie from her. She wanted attention from the boys. At one point she made me sub out for her so that she could set for Steve… you know she didn’t actually say that.. but I could just tell from her body language that that’s what she wanted to do. I thought it was kind of bossy. You know? You don’t just sub in for someone in the middle of a serve… you wait for the sideout and rotate out. And even though I’m setting, she’s calling out “right here” or “help” thinking she’s the setter and she’s in the back row while we’re running a four-two. And the high fives she was giving the boys when they were hitting down my sets… girl, step back. I didn’t know why she thought she needed to compete with me or try to steal my thunder. I’m not after these boys. She really didn’t have to go all alpha female on the court. It was like she was racing to push me out of the way so she could bust down a door, and I kept stepping back and opening the door at the last minute to let her crash on by. She started to look a little ridiculous.

I just played it cool and by the end of the night she did relent a little. I got her to look me in the eye. And when it was time to leave and I called out, “Bye, guys.” She was the one that said, “OK, see you later.”

If she’s going to be on our team, it’s good for her to know my place in the world.