The Final Spike

Day 1 of volleyball tryouts: excited, but also nervous. But will I make the team, or go home disappointed?

I stood on the edge of the volleyball court in the gym, my heart pounding and that weird feeling in my gut. As I watched the other people warm up, I saw around 30 kids. Then I got nervous again knowing that only 10 kids got chosen to be on the team.

While I was lost in my own thoughts, spaced out inside my little mind, my friend Winson, nudged me with his elbow asking, “Are you ready for this?”

“Yeah,” I lied, smiling.

I went on the court, preparing to warm up with the other kids. I realized my hands were sweating like a fountain. I wipe my hands on my hair to wake up. Not trying to get noticed, I retrieve a ball from the cart. I start passing with Winson. As I am warming up, I keep on making mistakes. I’m still too nervous.

I heard Coach Risso’s whistle. “WHEEEP! Line up everyone!”

I quickly ran to line up. The coach said that we were starting with serving. I saw the other kids on their turn. They were good. Each of them made their serves powerfully, one by one. When it was my turn, I whispered to myself, “I got this.” I had served outside my driveway, hitting balls over cars, thousands of times. The coach handed me a ball. I gripped it tight. Everyone was watching. It’s too late for mistakes now. I threw the ball in the air and I waited for my jump. I jumped too early and awkwardly hit the ball on my fingers. The ball flew and hit the net. I failed. I tried to shake off the miss, “Come on Caleb, you know you can do better.”

I went to shag my ball. I debated going on the line again, afraid to fail again, but my volleyball feelings kicked in and I went for the second try. It’s my turn. I take a really big breath and throw the ball into the air. I jump with all my might and smash the middle of the ball. It shoots right over the net.

“Nice serve,” Coach Risso said to me. I felt so happy. Maybe I do belong here after all.

Then after we finished serving, we went to the other court to do some scrimmages. I’ve done so many scrimmages in my life. I was ready for this. The coach started picking team captains. She picked Winson, and then she picked me. The problem was that I wanted to play with Winson, not against him.

We flipped a coin and Winson got the first pick. “Umm, I choose Arial.” Arial was very big and tall. Almost as tall as the coach. Then it was my turn, and I chose Sam. He was short but fast and had a monster vertical. Then we chose our players, one by one. The teams were made with no players remaining. Winson and I did rock paper scissors and I won, which means I was serving first. I grabbed a ball. I took a deep breath and hit it cleanly and right over the net. The other team somehow failed to retrieve the ball. YES. Good start. I served again, I got it perfectly. But the other team received the ball. The setter set it to Arial and he bounced on us, not even jumping. Ok. Game on.

The points went back and fourth, everyone was doing so well. Then it was the final point and Arial’s serve. This small scrimmage felt like a world championship game. It was my chance to prove that I could be on the team. Arial hit a powerful serve and it came right to one of my teammates. He passes it to my setter and the setter looks me in the eye, about to set me. This is it. I jumped and smacked the ball but Arial sprinted back to the front and blocked me. The ball is on our side again and the ball hit the floor. Dang it. I trudged over to my team as the other team celebrated the insane rally win.

I say to my team, “Don’t worry guys. We will get them next time.”

Then the coach told us all to sit down all together. She said, “All of you guys did so well, it’s getting harder for me to pick only 10 people. Today at around 8pm, the people who made the team will be announced. Thank you for coming and have a great day.” When my mom asked me about the tryouts, and I said that it was good. But inside, I felt like I wouldn’t make the team.

I waited at home until 8pm. Then the email came. I was debating if I should even open the email. But I did and I looked at the place where our numbers for our tryouts were and… MY NUMBER WAS THERE! Yes! I flew to my mom and told her I MADE THE TEAM! 

At that moment, I realized something. Not everything is about winning. Sometimes, it’s team spirit. Even though my team lost the scrimmage, I still made the team. So winning isn’t always the only goal, it’s about trust, teamwork, and faith, and the hard work you put in together.