City Champs

So last Tuesday evening was the city volleyball final for Angus's school team. He told us not to go last year and then told us we should have come because it was really exciting. So naturally I decided we would go this year if they made it that far. And naturally Matt was in Japan when it happened.

It was November, and cold, and dark, and I wanted to leave the house about as much as I wanted to french kiss a cactus, but I love my son and I am always trying to be less weird, so off I went.

It went well. My contacts were untroublesome, so I could read all the signs well. The route was extremely circuitous and downtown, which I don't like, but the traffic was fine and I got there easily. I found the gym with some difficulty (it was on the third floor, which seems weird, doesn't it?) It hadn't occurred to me that there would be an admission fee, and it was three dollars and I only had a fifty - cue feeling like an absolute tool. They were nice about it, and I don't think there were many people coming in behind me, so hopefully the fact that I pretty much cleaned out their change tray was okay. I stifled the urge to tell them just to keep the change - the urge was definitely there, because I hate inconveniencing people, especially polite teen-agers, but I stifled it.

I thought that one person I know might be there, because both her kids are big into volleyball and one of them plays on the team. I managed to find her and squish in beside her and her husband, so now I wasn't totally alone either. I managed not to ask a million questions about what was happening, which was difficult, because, look - I learned the rules for baseball I learned most of the rules for baseball I learned some of the rules for baseball. That was the agreement. I did NOT learn volleyball.

It was an almost perfect game in the movie sense - our team won the first two periods sets, but narrowly. The other team pulled ahead significantly in the third set and then won. The fourth set was close again, and then our team started pulling ahead coming up to the final points. There were a bunch of kids from the school that came on a fan bus, and they all stood up for the final point and then rushed the court. Angus didn't play very much, which always means Matt and I make noises about how it's great for him to play for a team where all the pressure isn't on him and we think it will be relaxing watching the game because it's not all on our kid, and then we both freak out and hyperventilate anyway. It was an exciting game and I was glad I was there, even though I had to climb over a few vexing neurosis obstacles to get there.

I got a picture after of Angus with a teammate who has the same last name - the other kid also plays baseball, and I was watching him play in the district final trying to get to the Little League World Series the year after Angus's team had and when the kid came up to bat an enthusiastic boy of about ten in the bleachers behind me told his brother with great authority that that was "the brother of Angus Adams". I couldn't quite figure out how to phrase my rebuttal of his statement, so I just let it go. Here they are - the Adams Brothers.