Choose your ball wisely.

Here in our small town, as I've written before, High School Football is a destination, entertainment, social mecca Friday in the corn. Our team is not overly inspiring. We don't take down the bigger schools and have Hollywood moments of underdog domination. You can sit there in the heat, the cold, the wind, the rain, and watch occasional flashes of brilliance, several "oooh, bummer" incidences and several hours of boys piling on each other to the tune of the whistle. Sometimes I'll enjoy a Tootsie Pop from the concession stand to add an air of festivity.
The Cheerleaders are fun to watch. They can flip around, they have good hair, and they do this thing I call "scary eyes", where  a girl will be normal and smiling, and then it is like a switch flips and she pops her eyes open really wide so you can see the whites all around. There is one girl that makes me nervous, because she is confirmationally incorrect for gymnastics. She is toe out and back at the knee- horse talk, but even if she's not equine, huge strain on the joints without doing 8 flippy dippies down the track. Sure enough she's wearing a knee brace. Eldest's knees are like that, fortunately never showed an interest in gymnastic activity.
And the Band, well, they are worth watching. During half time the shows are really fun, and they play rousing music for the team when they're in the stands. Plus, there are some truly nerdy displays of enthusiasm that are so refreshing in a world of otherwise "cool" teens.
But, the town is missing out on the real action. The edge of your seat, adrenaline fueled, breath holding moments that come bam!bam!bam! in a sport that is really exciting.
Girls Middle School Volleyball.
I am NOT KIDDING.
In less than one hour the girls play the best of three games, and I am hoarse, flushed, weak at the knees and my head hurts when the final whistle blows. You're jumping up in your seat and then sliding down in despair, only to pop up again, arms above your head. There isn't a "Their Side",  "Our Side" seating like at football games, so you can cheer for the other team when they perform brilliantly. And there is something so "Ripley's" about watching a slip of a 12 year old, with arms awkwardly long and jointy, effortlessly slam a ball into back court. "HOW does she do that?"
Middlest is on the 8th grade team. It is mostly the same group of girls who fumbled through their 7th grade year now more mature, more capable, and breathlessly exciting. Now, let me say here that this year's crop of 7th graders are fan-freakin'-tastic volleyball players. Many of the girls are little sisters of girls currently on the high school teams, so have been watching volleyball for years. The game concept is old hat. For our 8th grade team though, there is a huge improvement from last year. They have become fun to watch, and without the helmets and padding of the football players, you get to know them, by their expressions and body language. I know one girl gets too excited under pressure and is likely to hit it out. I know one girl who acts very casual, but takes it hard when it doesn't go her way. Another girl who the other's look to for leadership, and the one trying to prove she belongs. Unfortunately Middlest doesn't get enough court time to really tell what kind of player she is.... she has been in for maybe 4 plays all year. That's okay. She's working on her skills and I can see the improvement in her warm up. It will be hard to gain confidence though, if she's not put in the game. For now it is enough to go and to cheer and to become invested in that hour (or 2 because the 7th grade game is not to be missed!) and give her a big hug afterwards and say "That was SOOO FUN!" Because, it was.

Middlest, second from right, watching her team.

Middlest working bumps it up!

Middlest blocks our spiker's slam.  Well, maybe not. But she made it there!