Wonders - Day 2
The sun flooded the entire beach in a brilliant heat. Sweat was the most prevalent fluid of the day, to some, it seemed there was more sweat than ocean.
This was especially true on the sand volleyball court, where four lean, muscled college students were hard at it – spiking, serving, diving.
Two fourteen year old boys sat on the sand, bored, watching the game.
A spike. A dive. A yelp of pain as one player twisted his ankle, and then the volley ball crashed into the two boys.
Timmy ducked and it hit Joey on the left side of his face.
“Owww!”
“You putz Joey, you should have ducked.”
Joey grabbed the white, leather ball and checked to see if any of his face remained on it. Before he threw it back, he held it tightly between his two hands.
“I wonder …”
---
“Hey kid, can you throw the ball back?”
“Sure, here.”
“Wow kid, you really got an arm. Hey, my teammate just turned his ankle. Do you play?”
“I’ve played a little.”
“Good enough for me. I’m Frank. Let’s go beat their butt.”
The next hour was amazing on the hot, afternoon beach. Frank and Joey meshed together as if they had been teammates for ten years. Any block that Frank missed, Joey would dive and save it. Frank made perfect sets and Joey hammered them home, sailing far above the net as if he lived there.
The play was so good, a large crowd began to gather to watch the two play. They quickly beat the two opponents and then washed right through the next three.
Suddenly, the crowd buzzed as Roger and Ben stepped into the court, opposite Frank and Joey. Roger and Ben were icons of beach volleyball and if they had ever been beat, no one could remember it.
The games were extremely intense, with the ball appearing to almost break the sound barrier on several occasions. In the third, tie-breaking game, Joey hooked his foot over the boundary rope and crashed to the ground. Frank ran to his side.
“I think its broken Joey.”
“Yeah, it sure feels like it.”
“I’ll go tell them we forfeit. Man, we were so close to beating these turd heads.”
“Wait Frank. Help me up. I can still play.”
Frank pulled Joey to his feet and the crowd continued to buzz. Joey walked around in circles for a few minutes, testing his ankle out and then nodded. The game continued.
As all master games should, the entire match came down to the last point. Joey limped to the back line, held the ball high over his head and stared at his opposition. He then tossed it high in the area, and ran forward, striking the ball at its apex.
The ball rushed toward the net as if it were a comet about to plunge into the Pacific. It barely cleared the top of the net and then dove almost straight to the ground. The beach went suddenly quiet, except for a lone seagull of in the distance.
And then the crowd erupted and flooded the sand court. Joey had served an ace and they had beat the unbeatable. Joey, grimacing with the pain in his ankle, was hosted onto the crowd’s shoulders and carried around for a good ten minutes.
Finally, when he was gingerly put back down on the ground, there stood his partner, Frank, flanked by a gorgeous red head in one of the smallest bikinis ever made.
“Joey, you are really something. Hey, this is my sister Amy. We are having a party on Dad’s boat tonight and Amy needs a date. Are you up to it?”
Joey just smiled and nodded yes.
----
“Hey punk, are you going to give us the ball back, or just sit there and drool all over it.”
Joey threw the ball back to the players. It bounced several times and then died in the sand, a good 10 feet from the waiting player.
“Some arm, kid.”
“I told you were a putz, Joey.”
“Aw shuddup.”
-- continued --
This was especially true on the sand volleyball court, where four lean, muscled college students were hard at it – spiking, serving, diving.
Two fourteen year old boys sat on the sand, bored, watching the game.
A spike. A dive. A yelp of pain as one player twisted his ankle, and then the volley ball crashed into the two boys.
Timmy ducked and it hit Joey on the left side of his face.
“Owww!”
“You putz Joey, you should have ducked.”
Joey grabbed the white, leather ball and checked to see if any of his face remained on it. Before he threw it back, he held it tightly between his two hands.
“I wonder …”
---
“Hey kid, can you throw the ball back?”
“Sure, here.”
“Wow kid, you really got an arm. Hey, my teammate just turned his ankle. Do you play?”
“I’ve played a little.”
“Good enough for me. I’m Frank. Let’s go beat their butt.”
The next hour was amazing on the hot, afternoon beach. Frank and Joey meshed together as if they had been teammates for ten years. Any block that Frank missed, Joey would dive and save it. Frank made perfect sets and Joey hammered them home, sailing far above the net as if he lived there.
The play was so good, a large crowd began to gather to watch the two play. They quickly beat the two opponents and then washed right through the next three.
Suddenly, the crowd buzzed as Roger and Ben stepped into the court, opposite Frank and Joey. Roger and Ben were icons of beach volleyball and if they had ever been beat, no one could remember it.
The games were extremely intense, with the ball appearing to almost break the sound barrier on several occasions. In the third, tie-breaking game, Joey hooked his foot over the boundary rope and crashed to the ground. Frank ran to his side.
“I think its broken Joey.”
“Yeah, it sure feels like it.”
“I’ll go tell them we forfeit. Man, we were so close to beating these turd heads.”
“Wait Frank. Help me up. I can still play.”
Frank pulled Joey to his feet and the crowd continued to buzz. Joey walked around in circles for a few minutes, testing his ankle out and then nodded. The game continued.
As all master games should, the entire match came down to the last point. Joey limped to the back line, held the ball high over his head and stared at his opposition. He then tossed it high in the area, and ran forward, striking the ball at its apex.
The ball rushed toward the net as if it were a comet about to plunge into the Pacific. It barely cleared the top of the net and then dove almost straight to the ground. The beach went suddenly quiet, except for a lone seagull of in the distance.
And then the crowd erupted and flooded the sand court. Joey had served an ace and they had beat the unbeatable. Joey, grimacing with the pain in his ankle, was hosted onto the crowd’s shoulders and carried around for a good ten minutes.
Finally, when he was gingerly put back down on the ground, there stood his partner, Frank, flanked by a gorgeous red head in one of the smallest bikinis ever made.
“Joey, you are really something. Hey, this is my sister Amy. We are having a party on Dad’s boat tonight and Amy needs a date. Are you up to it?”
Joey just smiled and nodded yes.
----
“Hey punk, are you going to give us the ball back, or just sit there and drool all over it.”
Joey threw the ball back to the players. It bounced several times and then died in the sand, a good 10 feet from the waiting player.
“Some arm, kid.”
“I told you were a putz, Joey.”
“Aw shuddup.”
-- continued --
posted by Jimmie C. | 8:23 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home