Watching middle school sports is purely an act of love. If you don’t know the players, it is especially hard to watch, volleyball more so than basketball. My favorite team last night came within one point of beating the second best team, and within two 
points of losing to the second worst team.
Their skills are okay, for only their second year of playing, but the thing about most of them is that they don’t want the ball. They don’t move to the ball, they don’t fill holes left by other players, they don’t move as a team, but wait for someone else to do something. On the undefeated team, they all want the ball. You can tell by their eyes and how they move. Every time, three of them are moving to hit it and the other three are moving to cover the floor.
Most of the other kids, you hear a lot more “get it” than “mine.” If a ball comes near but not right to them, they glance around hoping someone lunges over to save the day. Often, unforgivable in volleyball, they let balls hit the floor. Not spikes, volleys. They all watch each other until it is too late and it bounces.
Their motto, and maybe yours, should be “nothing hits the floor.” Not today. Nothing hits the floor, not my floor.
