Personal Narrative: The Sport Of Volleyball

It was a hot summer day in Hammond, Louisiana and I was pouring down sweat like I had just jumped in a pool. The game was just about to begin, me and my team was eagle eyeing the bomb squad. It was so quiet that you could hear your own sweat hitting the bench. The umpire broke up everyone’s concentration by saying, “play ball”! The defense had ran out on the field and I started rolling ground balls from 2nd to short-stop to third base. They had all made good throws back to me and then I threw the ball into the dug-out because the game had begun.

Middle school is a time when kids attempt to figure out how they fit in, and that is exactly what I was looking to do when I started playing volleyball. I was in seventh grade when I decided to try out, and it was only because my best friend was playing. Little did I know just how organized and complex the game was; I just assumed volleyball was a more intense version of “don’t let the balloon touch the ground.” I never thought that I would become so passionate about this sport that it would have an impact on my character.

What is the only thing harder than disciplining a dozen ten year olds? Disciplining them on ice! All throughout my life I’ve played sports, and no matter what sport it was, there was always one person who seemed to have it out for me…the referee. The referee is one of the most hated people in the world of sports, but is also one of the most crucial. I grew up with the mindset that the referee was the enemy. Whenever they made a call against me or my team, they were always wrong, no matter how obvious the penalty was. But one day, my whole perspective on referees changed---the day I became a referee.

My stomach twisted at the thought of losing when we pulled into the McDougal High School’s parking lot. I ran into the building where our coach taught us the new positions until it was time to play. The ref blew the whistle and threw the ball into the air. I jumped up with my feet dangling off the ground and slapped the ball out of its orbit and ran down the court. I could feel my heart beating, I lurched to a screaming halt at the three point line and pushed the ball towards the basket. I shut my eyes hoping it would make it. I heard the ball drop to the ground and the crowd that was erupting with cheers, I opened my eyes and saw my teammates smiling. “That’s a girl!” my coach hollered as I ran towards the sideline and sat down on the bench. We ended up winning by 2 points after two overtime periods.

As a leader it is important to follow the motto service above self. My favorite activity / event of the 2016-2017 Rodriguez Prep school year was being on the school’s volleyball team. The experience of being on the school’s volleyball team impacted me personally.

We went in through the back and sat down in the athletic hallway so we could put on our shoes. The upperclassmen looked at us with glares, but what could we do? Us being freshmen drew eyes, especially since we didn’t know what we were doing. About ten minutes after sitting down, the head varsity coach called us into the gym. I had a plan to pass with one of my good friends who had played before to show the coaches I know what I’m doing. We all had to sign in at a table, and then we were given

I continued to take shots and miss them, advance up the court, fumble the ball, and then turn it over. What I didn’t do was the look at the crowd, the score, the clock, or Coach Foley. The stern look on his face masked the aggravation, fuming, and unsatisfied mentality he had. His folded, muscular, arms, that could not be unwrapped, were cemented to his chest. His large, positioned feet were engraved into the sideline. His perspective had been changed about me.

I have never been a sporty person, but there is one sport that has always intrigued me and that is volleyball. Since sixth grade I have been a part of CIPLC's Volleyball team, attending most VANASs & CEVACs of middle school and high school. However, before middle school I participated in the roller hockey and the basketball club. In addition, I joined the Chess Club and went to the Chess CEVAC on May, 16 2013 in the international school in Anaco, and in 2015 signed up for MUN and then attended SAMUN in Caracas in November.

I’m looking at my pink cast thinking to myself, how could this have happened to me? It was freshman year, football season had just started, and we were off to our second game of the season. Shirley Field was where it happened, and it’ll be an experience i’ll never forget. It was just another game, nothing new, but little did I know what would happen later.

"Who would make something like this?" I said looking at my ankle now it was swollen and red I know I could run on it so I fiugerd I play alone. Pray that they wouldn forgot about all of this running and help with my injury so that way I could try again cause there no way I stay here.

It was a warm summer morning on August 28, 1998 when my mother went into Sioux Valley hospital to give birth to a baby boy. After an agonizing 15 hours in labor, I was born. They named me Bryce meaning “Nobel One.” My full name was Bryce Jay Edberg, I got this middle name after my father, which his middle name was also Jay. Being born at exactly 4:03 a.m., with a staggering 23 inch body and weighing 10 lb 4oz the delivery was nothing less then painful.

Many moments from our youth may fade while other experiences remain vividly embedded in our memories. Perhaps because, like a cut to our skin, an open wound, it takes time to heal. At the start of my sophomore year I was cut from the high school volleyball team I worked so hard to be a part of. All my life I have trained to be the best athlete I could be. I joined volleyball at the age of seven with a goal of being on my high school volleyball team. During sophomore tryouts as the final minutes ticked by the coaches started to call individual people in their office one at a time for cuts and unfortunately I was called. The finality of the coach’s words, ‘you’re not on the team anymore’ filled the room as my world fell apart. The practices, the games, the knee pads, the uniform—was suddenly present but

​When it came to sports, especially track, I was a bit of a late bloomer. Middle school was tough on me because I was the person that was good at anything that had to do with athletics in elementary school, but kids started to grow faster than I did and I was no longer the star I used to be. Two minor sports that this affected me in were soccer and basketball. I was no longer the soccer star at my school, but I was still one of the best so this was not that big a deal. Basketball was harder for me to cope with because I went from one of the best to B-team player. These were not my main sports and they were not as important to me so I will not focus on them. The biggest failure in my eyes was the inability to be the fastest kid in school. I

Playing on the varsity volleyball team is an adrenaline rush like no other. To be able to play the sport you love with teammates that are like family, in front of a crowd of actual family members is the ultimate feeling. Playing is even better when you, a small town nobody, beat a ranked team in the first set. We had just beaten Humboldt 25-17 and I was on top of the world. We were playing like our lives depended on it and I couldn’t be more proud of the girls.

I first started playing volleyball at a very young age. I was in the seventh grade when my volleyball career started. My sister started playing in the seventh grade and I just wanted to follow her footsteps. My seventh grade year was ok because I had just started out and really didn’t know the game. There was A team and a B team, where A team was better than the B team. I tried my best to be on the A-team, but guess where I ended up, on the B team.