My feet move quickly-left, right, left-as the set is sent straight to me. Hearing the crowd roar, I make sure to time my jump perfectly. Smack. The perfect corner shot spike. Screams and cheers were all that I could hear after a great victory playing my favorite sport, volleyball.
Waking up at 5:00 in the morning most Saturdays during club ball season wasn’t exactly enjoyable, especially when the tournament was across town. However, I loved the adrenaline rush of the intense competition on the court. I was so obsessed with volleyball that I would talk about it any chance I got. I would even draw volleyballs on my school papers and incorporate them into art projects.
Volleyball consumed my life, and it was the only sport in which I excelled. I often found myself not being able to hang out with my friends who weren’t in volleyball because I had practice or a tournament to attend.
Freshman year I was determined to make the Marcus volleyball team. The summer before consisted of numerous volleyball camps in order to prepare for August 1st, the day my summer ended and volleyball tryouts began.
When the coaches finalized the teams, my hands shook uncontrollably as it was my turn to face the coaches and hear their decision. A stream of emotions ran through my body, I made the Freshman Red team. I ran out the door, straight to my friends and family to share the good news. I was ecstatic and I couldn’t wait for the season to start.
Around the middle of our season I started to feel shooting pain in both of my feet. I tried to work through it, but it became too excruciating to even walk some days. An orthopedic doctor diagnosed me with Tendonitis in both of my feet. This injury prevented me from playing to my fullest potential. Once the season was over, it was time for the coaches to make player cuts. I was cut from the team. As soon as I heard the devastating news, my eyes quickly filled with burning tears of sadness and anger. I didn’t know what I was going to do without volleyball. It had become my life as a freshman in high school, and it was the only extracurricular activity I did.
As reality set in, I knew my volleyball days were numbered. After many painful discussions with my mom, I decided it was time to explore other potential interests. I made the decision to try the film-photography class.
This one class opened new opportunities for me, like newspaper. I became a designer and photographer on the Marquee staff the next year. Not only did I find my niche in newspaper, but I became an active member in many different clubs like the Friends of Rachel Club, Circle of Friends and Mu Alpha Theta.
When working a booth for Friends of Rachel during freshman orientation, I decided to explore some of the clubs even though I was a sophomore. Glancing around the commons, I saw an Ultimate frisbee booth, and that’s when it all started. I grabbed a brochure, and then two players began talking me into joining. I was pretty hesitant at first so I said maybe. Within the next few weeks, I went to a practice to try it out even though I didn’t know anyone on the team. To this day I am so delighted that I had the courage to try something new. My teammates are like my extended family.
My sophomore and junior year have been the best school years I’ve ever experienced. Ultimate and Newspaper have really changed my life for the better. They both have helped me get over the fact I am no longer playing volleyball and discover that I have other talents. Ultimate brings out my competitive and enthusiastic side that I had while playing volleyball. Newspaper has taught me leadership skills I will need for the future as well as how to write a descent column.
Five years ago I would have never imagined being a part of the newspaper staff or the Ultimate Frisbee team. I used to always talk about volleyball, and now I am constantly talking about ultimate or newspaper. It’s interesting how one change in your life can play a major role in your future. My high school plan didn’t necessarily turn out the way I initially envisioned, but I’ve made the most of Plan B.
