Sports to most athletes is life. We live it. We breathe it. We sleep in it. It is the Gatorade that replenishes us. It is the protein we retrieve from a healthy lunch. We watch and we push ourselves farther than what our bodies can handle just to accomplish that extra inch of a higher vertical, or that split second in the 100 – meter dash. We bypass the pain that enters our bodies hoping that it will not affect our performance. If pain does occur, smart athletes will ice and do what is needed to get back as soon as possible. Nothing comes in the way of getting better and executing our skills when it is time for game day. Tiger words once said, “I expect to beat my opponent. No matter how high or low, good or bad, mentally or physically fit he is, I will come out on top,” Tiger Woods life is golf. Volleyball is mine.

To many people volleyball is a simple sport that consists of six people, and is known for propelling an inflated ball over a net, thus doing so before it makes contact with the ground. To me, volleyball is a sport that involves passion, great determination, trust, hard drive, ambition, and doing absolutely everything in your power to keep the ball off of the court. It is a sport that bonds many and produces lifetime memories. With that said, I will never forget the day that I thought I would never be able to play volleyball again.

I remember playing a game of Pepper (a two player game that consists of passing, setting, and hitting the ball at each other continuously) in my neighbor’s front yard. I needed to prepare for tryouts the next week. I was already becoming terrified because this was my first year of high school, my first year to enter a level of competition that I have never endured, but I was eager to conquer.

Beads of sweat dripped down my face while blades of grass grasped my knees and elbows. I dove for the ball with no intention of landing on steel, iron pole and slicing my Quadricep tendon in two. Landing with laughter, I fell to the ground knowing it was my fault that the ball was now dead. Not knowing what I had done, I attempted to lift myself off of the Earth. Seeing before feeling, a thick red fluid gushed violently out of my left knee leaving my knee bone exposed to all eyes. Seconds flashed by and suddenly all of the pain and agony flushed through my nerves and released the endless salty drops. I thought to myself “This is only a minor injury.” WRONG! Slicing my main tendon into two separate pieces cost me my whole freshman year of volleyball, four months of relying on crutches, and six months of strenuous rehab.

Any athlete knows that getting hurt, no matter how minor or major it may be, is one of the worst things that could happen. Put this into the perspective of your high school years. If you get recruited to play at a university and you somehow get injured before graduation, that university has the option to deplete or cancel your scholarship. An athlete’s health is vital to their performance; it is either all or nothing. For me, there is no option other than my all

Working my hardest, doing what I was told, and not slacking one bit, resulted in a recovery that was unexpected. I was released two weeks prior to my designated date! Now, able to walk again, it was my duty to continue with volleyball. Yes, this would be very hard, trying out at the sophomore level only having eight grade skills, but when you have a true passion for something, obstacles do not exist.

Breaking a sweat every day in off – season and being an over achiever got me a position I imagined I would never get, starting right side varsity hitter! Overwhelmed with joy, I could not do anything except give thanks to my coach. “No thank you” she replied. All through out the season I could not believe that this was me. Receiving First Team All District Academic, one of the best and higher honors an athlete can receive, only happened to me from the events of my worst accident.