We had our end-of-year volleyball tournament yesterday. My team won first place, which surprised the hell out of me. I havenâ€™t won first place at anything in a while, and it was a very/ even game: with only a couple of exceptions, all our matches were won or lost by a handful of points. So I blocked and I passed and I set and I reffed for a bit and then I blocked and passed and yelled some more and sweated like a pig, from morning to mid-afternoon. Good thing I had my towel with me.
Which may not seem like a big thing, but I realized Iâ€™d never brought a towel to play. Until this weekend I just used my t-shirt to wipe myself off (yes, even for big tournaments), but I figured maybe I needed a little more. And, who knows? Maybe itâ€™s the towel that helped me win. Because the rest of the players could sass what a hoopy guy I was: they knew they were dealing with a frood who really knew where his towel was, and their strength failed them.
Iâ€™m sad to see the season end, but grass volleyball is coming up soon, so itâ€™s all good. Maybe if I bring a towel there too, Iâ€™ll end the summer with off-white skin instead of shining alabaster. Unfortunately, tanning is right out. Curse these melanin-impoverished genes what my folks gave me!