Grade 12

Finally. After 3 long years of stinky sweat, kissing the gym floor and countless balls to the face its time to be the best, to finally lead the team to a win. It's time for senior boys volleyball as a vicious grade 12 student. Practice starts and you put on the shoes you've put on so many times before, still wet from "hard work". To most the smell would be paralyzing, but no, not to you. The short shorts present the vampire like skin hiding above 2 months of summer tan. As the sleeve-less shirt exposes magnificent biceps made to crush grade nines. First you walk out of the change room and into the war zone. After years and years of running scared as 8 foot tall giants hammer missiles into the ground its your turn now. Run, Jump and watch as all others dive out of the way when your hand connects with the ball. Others serve lollipops that seem to pass themselves. Each set comes off your fingers and is carried by the angels to the next player that pounds the ball. The girls sit on the bleachers with jaws along the hardwood signaling time for a jump serve.Stand behind the line and take a breath and let all pressure escape you. The toss is perfect and you jump higher then a puma. With a perfect hit the ball arches the senior net and takes out kids like bowling pins. A gratifying nod is given by the coach and you know it's time for the game.