I manage for boys volleyball at my high school, mostly because I don't actually possess the coordination to actually play the sport myself.

This whole managing thing I do started last year, when I was offered a get-out-of-PE-free card in exchange for keeping book (essentially, marking which players were played, what kinds of points they made, and keeping track of fouls, which can often be more complicated then it sounds, especially when they make you color all those stupid starter triangles) for the girls basketball team. I accepted without hesitation, desperate to ditch PE (being the athletically challenged individual that I am) and opting for more free periods to do the homework and studying I never seemed to feel like doing the night before.

When I first began managing, my knowledge of basketball was practically nonexistent; I basically knew that you could make two pointers, three pointers, free throws, and there was something called a lay-up but I wasn't quite sure what such a maneuver entailed. Eventually, though, I'm proud to say I mastered the art of managing for a basketball team, and maybe even fully understood one whole sport by the end of the season. Needless to say, this is a major accomplishment for someone like me. In fact, I enjoyed it so much that I came back this year to manage for girls basketball again, even though PE was no longer a torture chamber subject I was forced to endure as a junior. And when Sean, the boys volleyball coach, and a close friend named KMac both approached me about managing for Boys Volleyball, I accepted without a second thought. I knew less about volleyball coming into this season then I did about basketball when I started managing for the girls as a sophomore, but I was willing to learn.

Siege on Spiketown
Last night's game...was heartbreaking. Bottle crushing. Soul shattering.

The up ref was literally BLIND. I wanted to walk up to her at the end of the game, hand her my glasses, and say "You need these more than I do." They called EVERYTHING on us, including stuff we BLATANTLY didn't do. She swore up and down that DW had a touch, when EVERYONE saw that the ball had literally been a FOOT away from his hand. And, of course, NOTHING was called on the other team. Their setter would literally THROW the ball forward when he tipped, and they NEVER CALLED IT. They had an OBVIOUS under, but because it "wasn't relevant to the play that got the point", they didn't consider it a fault.

KMac and I literally crushed and destroyed three water bottles in frustration. The girls keeping score (who were RETARDED, at the very least) thought we were insane. And the WHOLE other team was COMPLETELY ridiculous. Every time we missed a serve, they were all yelling "WEAKSAUCE".

...

WEAKSAUCE?

Um.

...

REALLY?

If anything, they fail miserably at insults.

And then, of course, there was the guy sitting next to me at the table who pilfered KMac's seat because he needed a place to put his laptop. He works at the San Gabriel Valley News, we believe. Though he was appreciative of my venomous comments about the other team, I'm still convinced that this man was Satan. The jackass wrote our defeat for his news piece at the end of the first set. ONE set, and he'd already determined that we were playing our "worst game of the season" and that Salesian was "on its way to victory at semi-finals". It's not over 'til it's over, you stupid shit, even if you did end up being right.

KMac and I have every intention of purchasing as many copies of the San Gabriel Valley News with his article of that game in it and burning them with our Chem Teacher/Future Assassin, Dr. K.

I think one of the most awful things about that game was the very real possibility that, had our refs not been so terrible, we could've won the match, or at the very least taken them to five sets. The fact that there was a chance for us given only slightly different circumstances just makes the feeling all the more miserable.

The aftermath was the worst. Seeing the boys cry, those douchebaggy, arrogant, egotistical, prick-esque, toolish guys...just broke something inside of me. There's something so wrong about the images I keep seeing in my head. And it hurts to remember. I don't even feel justified for feeling as morose over this as I do; I was the one person on the team, player, manager, coach, or otherwise, who didn't cry. It's almost ironic, considering that I can pretty much cry over everything else in the world. But as I drove home on the bus, and eventually in my car, this sinking feeling inside of me just kept getting worse and worse, and it took me a whole night of contemplation to be able to put all of my feelings about this into words. 

And I meant every last one of those descriptive adjectives of the volleyball boys with all the love in my heart.

Quotes
"Um...Jewish schools are...not very good schools." (TG)

"Having a Toolface." (KM/AS)

"How did I get here, Sean? How did I get here?" (DW)

"Creeper, you are such a creep job." (PD)

"SEXUAL ASSULT." (DW)

"Do you think he noticed?"
"Ohmigod, no, he totally didn't notice."
"What, notice you two drooling over Toolface without his shirt on?"
"...Shit." (AS/KM/CM)

"Help me! I'm in his pants! You just pushed me into Tower's pants." (AS)

"Arrowhead's setter (#1) is rediculously hot. Yes."
"Mmm..." (Book Quote - Arrowhead)

"69! 69! Dyslexic 69! 169!" (KM/AS)

"Shea screwed up a little bit...a lot...shh..."
"Because Ireland took Cheerleader's keys! I WAS BEING A GOOD FRIEND, DAMMIT!"
"KMac saved the day!" (Book Quote)

"Take me to Spiketown, Reed. Take me there!" (PD)

"Inside of her all up in there."
"Vagina?"
"That." (AS/KM)

"That's the 6 to my 9!" (AK)

"1. Sushi doesn't screw up when KMac isn't there to distract her. 2. The Setter was a FLAMING ASS. Like, an ass ON FIRE. 3. No hot boys, wtf." (Book Quote - Pacific Lutheran)

"Then he moved it, and suddenly it was all up in my crotch!" (KM)

"Stop touching me." (DW)

"Creeper, creeper, creeper!!"
"...and of course Barbie goes right over to him..."

"PENETRATE!" (GT)

"Who are we talking about?"
"Douchebag face over there."
"Number 17."
"Oh, you mean the one who tried to gain access to Spiketown and was denied?" (PD/AS/KM)

"KMac + Sushi = MANLY." (Book Quote - Chadwick)

"He just took it right in the face." (DW)

"It was hot."
"Yeah, smoke inhalation kills." (AS/KM)

"It's connection, Sean; you can't break that!" (AK)

"The thicker one! Squeeze it!" (AS)

"You're dripping on me!" (KM)

"Breakin' my balls, Sean. Breakin' my balls." (PD)

"I HATE YOU WITH A FIERY, BURNING PASSION, SMELLY UMIPRE MAN. Also, you fail at life. Entirely."
"All boys on SF team think Sushi is a babe."
"Hot Boy of the Game: #32. Honorary Hot Boys: #13 and #22 (Boy Who Can't Do Libero Tracking)" 
"Old man ref = Nice. Smelly Man Ref (Peruvian Man) still fails. It is consistant. Like his stench."
(Book Quote - St. Francis)

"AWKWARD CHRIS." (KM/AS)

"I'm loving the ass crack, Turo." (PD)

"Honorary Hot Boy: Toolface."
"Honorary Hot Boy: Toolface (again)."
"Honorary Hot Boy: Toolface (forevermore)." (Book Quote)

"So, I know you're worried about guarding your virginity, and all that, and I'd like you to know that you're doing a great job so far - and I just want to reassure you that your virginity is not going anywhere! I know you've heard that high school is full of sex-driven psychos, but I'm here to tell you that you don't have to worry...over the next four years I can assure you that you will be getting NO ass WHATSOEVER. Maybe you might be worried that alcohol will be a stimulant for losing your virginity, but I'm here to tell you that it's okay, you won't ever be invited to any parties where that will be a problem for you. In fact, keep up the good work and you'll be a virgin until you die! Exciting, right?? A nice, boring sexless life is all you're headed for! So don't worry, it's going to be okay!" (AS - The Famous Virginity Speech)

"What're the chances we could light him and the up ref on fire and claim it was an accident?" (KM/AS)

"It's just physics, ref. Really, it's basic physics." (SB)

"KNOCK ON WOOD." (KM/AS)

The End
Granted, the book was considerably more complicated for volleyball than basketball, and sometimes I had to take on roles that I really didn't want to, and never would again (ahem, LINES). Even so, there were a million highlights to managing the boys volleyball team: Chilling with KMac and another close friend who was on the team, Noftle. Figuring out how to somehow actually understand what was going on in a game match, with a lot of help from KMac and Sean. Dancing stupidly to warm-up music. Getting so into the games that I probably would've gotten some kind of technical yellow card had I screamed profanities any louder. Bus rides with the guys. My nickname, Female Persuasion. Cheering louder than the entire fan section of the audience combined. Dissecting sexual songs. Every awkward moment Chris ever walked in on. Scoping out hot guys on opposing teams. Getting scoped out by hot guys on opposing teams (aka visual rape). Jokes about massive orgies with the entire pathetic, douchebaggy P.L. team with KMac. Writing notes in the book at the end of every game. Getting out of certain classes early to go to games. One, single, perfectly recorded match. Texting while libero tracking. Knocking on wood. Man grunts. Destroying water bottles.  Book/Libero tracking pen OCD. Toolface: all the orgasmic times that came with his shirtlessness (even his misses were beautiful), and every all-up-in-his-area crotch grabbing moment. The quotes (above), the laughs (that never ended), the times (I won't easily forget). The significance of the tickets to, occupation, preservation, and careful guarding of SPIKETOWN. 

KMAC. 
SEAN. 
NOFTLE. 
THE BOYS. 

All the love in the world to Boys Varsity Volleyball '08.