One day in September of my sophomore year, I was walking through my high school quad when a tall, blonde, middle-aged man approached me. He asked me if I would like to try out for our school volleyball team. I decided to accept his invitation, despite the fact that at only 5' 7", I lacked the essential height to slam a volleyball over the net.
The next afternoon, I showed up for tryouts wearing casual shorts, a t-shirt, and Converse sneakers. It seemed as if everyone stopped to stare at me like I was some random freak walking into the gym. At that point, I was terrified, watching the other girls hitting these volleyballs with power and precision. The coach told me to come back once I got proper athletic gear. He thought, with my smooth soled sneakers, that I may have slipped and gotten hurt. It was embarrassing, and I decided that I would never step foot in that gym again. .
Towards the end of that school year, when I'd grown four inches and gained some muscle from running track, the coach approached me again about trying out for the volleyball team. Determined to turn things around, I arrived to practice wearing the proper gear and ready to get on the team. I got on the court and acted as if I knew what I was doing, and before I knew it, I was playing volleyball better than I ever had before. After tryouts, the coach told me to come back to the gym in July for the volleyball summer camp, because he believed that I had something special and he wanted me on his team. .
Summer came quickly, and because I was practicing as much a possible, I became a fairly skilled volleyball player. After volleyball camp, I was given the position of team captain of the Varsity team. I played that year with all I had because I had a feeling that was my last year ever being able to play my favorite sport. Soon enough all these coach from schools would talk to me after games telling me that they want me to play for them next year for college and it was just so surreal.
