As my brand-new purple and green New Balance shoes crunched the gravel and my pace began to settle in; I started to think about how I got to this point in my life. Two weeks ago I had made the biggest decision of my life. I had decided to quit volleyball. This year would have been my fifth year in the Bedford volleyball program, and my eighth year playing indoor volleyball. Volleyball was the only thing I ever knew. Volleyball was the only thing I was good at. I looked up at the cloudy blue sky, took a deep breath, and asked myself “How did this happen?” As sweat drops ran along my face I started to question myself even more. “Why didn’t I work harder? Why am I not confident in my skills? What team would I have made?”

As I made my way further down the long dirt trail, I started thinking about the exact moment I knew I was going to quit. My mind wandered back to the second day of volleyball camp. You had told me not to worry about what court I was on or who I was playing with, but to always play hard. From the first time you told me that I always made sure to play like it was my last game. Thank you for all the support and great advice.

    The smell of sweaty knee pads and leather filled my nose as I entered the quiet high school gymnasium. Looking around I could feel the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I was nothing but a bag of nerves. Playing volleyball was second nature to me; I knew something was different about that day. I glanced over at last year’s varsity team. They were sitting together in an exclusive circle, all with grins ear to ear. As the smell of sweaty knee pads began to burn my nose, I also noticed the girls sitting as close to the varsity team as possible. They were the want-to-be varsity team. They were the juniors that were either going to be practice monkeys for the varsity team or even more embarrassing, the juniors on junior varsity. I was one of them. If any of us had the wonderful pleasure of making varsity volleyball all we would ever be seen as is roster fillers. There were ten returning varsity members for the 2014 season. This meant that there were only four spots up for grabs and nine returning juniors trying to take them. Out of the nine juniors trying to get a varsity spot, I was seen as one of the elite. Throughout my years in Bedford volleyball I was the captain of every team I made. The pressure was on to perform at volleyball camp this week. Standing there I couldn’t help but wish that I was one of the returning varsity members. If I were I wouldn’t have to worry about not only proving myself this week, or later in tryouts.

After gawking at the varsity team, I went over to the wall and threw my royal blue Mizuno bag down. I remember I remember the day you got me that bag. It was my thirteenth birthday. You even got my name engraved on the front in bright white threading. That bag had been there with me through it all. From my first ever real volleyball tryout in fifth grade, to the Ohio Valley Region gold championship game, the bag was always there. I quickly opened the bag where my sweaty knee pads and black shoes lay. I threw my stuff on and drug myself over to one of the coaches.

Throughout the session I began to realize how much I dreaded being in that gym. It wasn’t the stench of sweat and leather that made it so unpleasant, it was the girls. It was my soon to be teammates. The game just didn’t feel the same that day. There was no longer that rush I felt every time I played. I felt out of place. I didn’t want to be there and the girls certainly let me knew that they didn’t want me there either.

Eventually the secession came to an end and you came to pick me up. I had a lump in my throat the entire time. I had no idea how to tell you that I was quitting the only thing that I strived for success in. I had no idea what your reaction would be. I just knew that whatever happened, I didn’t want to disappoint you. I acted fine on the car ride home, but inside I was being ripped in two. That night I stayed up thinking about what I should tell you. One of the many great things for having you as a mom is that from day one you always said you’d never be one of those parents who lived vicariously through their children. You said that you would never force us to do any extracurricular activities that we didn’t want to do. You didn’t believe in living through me and my sisters. You always kept that promise. Even though you lived up to your promise, with Megan going on to play college volleyball I felt more than obligated to continue my high school career.

That morning I walked into your bedroom. Clearly you could tell something was wrong because you immediately asked. The words just fell right out of my mouth. “Mom, I’m done playing volleyball, it’s…please just understood that I didn’t mean for this to happen,” I said as the tears swelled in my eyes. After I told you I was quitting and joining the cross country team, I was amazed at your reaction. You weren’t upset at all. In fact, you supported my decision even though you didn’t necessarily agree with it at the time.

Even though you are constantly there to support me, I can’t help but to think of all the money, time, and effort you have put in to help me play the sport I used to love. I can never thank you enough for all the times you have driven me to 8am tournaments after a twelve hour, 7pm to 7am shift at the hospital. Thank you for making my dream of playing volleyball, our dream. I’m sorry that I let you and our dream down.

Love you,

Al