Playa playa

Words cannot express the amount of stress relieving and fun that occur when playing volleyball! Played in a tourney yesterday with my new team, Black Attack. Despite original thoughts that this team would be filled with players that fit the description of the title, my friend Heidi and I seemed to fit right in. Although we hadn't practiced together or even knew each other before stepping on the court, BA made it to the semifinals! A feat to be insanely proud of...and we had a blast too.

Now...the dark side of playing: soreness. Oh yeah. I can feel every muscle in my shoulders, back, behind, and legs. I am walking like a granny after hip and knee replacements. It is really funny in a way, but holy schnikes! No amount of hydration, fruit, and drugs could have prevented this, especially since I TRIED TO PREVENT IT! Ah well, at least I know those muscles exist.

And while we're on that note, I have a rant. I can't stand playing against 2 types of people. Type A: the ridiculously competitive "I-know-I'm-great-so-I'll-talk-trash-to-show-my-bitchiness" queen. Please. Leave your trash talking in college. We're adults now. We're not training 3 hours a day or more 7 days a week like we used to. There aren't coaching jobs at stake. There is no real "award" or recognition for playing. Aren't we supposed to be having FUN? If you need to trash talk like that, then might I suggest roller derby? becoming a lawyer? anger management?

And type B: the slimy older lady. Oh I know, how un-pc of me. But seriously. If you can't move, don't play. If you can't hit, don't play. If you can't play the way that the Volleyball God (aka Karch Kiraly) intended, then DON'T PLAY. Nothing is more irritating than slimy crap that older not-so-mobile-so-I'll-tip-retardedly-and-one-arm-everything play. Augh.

Note to self: Candy=good. Candy coating=gooood. Candy coating on Advil=priceless.