Yelling coming from everywhere in the gym: the stands, the bench, the players, the coaches. All you really can hear is “Blah, Blah, Blah”. The comprehension of anything that anyone is saying is impossible because the gym is blaring with so much noise. You get whiffs of the sweaty players and their sweaty knee pads, becoming more aware that it is indeed game time. Every step you take, whether it’s for the stands, the bench, or even the court, you lose a little footing and slide, the slides so little you barely can even notice. Whistles blow, names and numbers are announced, good lucks are given, it is now game time.

As my number is announced I go into a quick deep thought about how everytime I wear, see, or even hear this number, all the memories of my past flood in. Reminders of all my old friends and all the good old times. My lucky number since the 7th grade, it gives me a sense of love, luck, and good. The red number 27 outlined by white on the grey jersey, many seeing it as just a number on a jersey representing the home of the Kicking Mules. I, however, see it as so much more. As I jump up for the game winning kill, I can hear faded cheers but it's all in slow motion as I watch the ball hit my hand, passing the blockers, and go down to the sweaty floor. The whole team comes running out pushing me around, cheering so loud. I can perceive the faint chants of my name and even my number.

Getting to where I am today had been a challenge, from suffering back and knee injuries and being told I should stop playing after my last concussion, to just wanting to give up on trying to push through everything. I owe it to my coaches for keeping me going, at times they were just beyond awfully tough on me, making me want to quit, but I knew they truly know what they are talking about and I couldn’t put all the work I’ve put in just to give up. Outside of volleyball, however, they are always there for me for all the tough times I go through and I know they will always be there no matter what.

As the curly haired coach, who’s been coaching now for 34 years, comes around everyone knows not to mess with her. For she’s a really great coach with some really strict policies that just about the entire school knows about. She’s loved by many who know her, her great coaching, and how amazing she is with children. Although, she’s disliked by several, too, those who take a guess of who she is after just coming across her once, those who don’t take the time to realize who she really is as a person. She is the reason why I am where I am today and I’m beyond appreciative of her coaching and just her as a person in general.  

Twenty-Seven is a number that I wouldn’t change for the world. For as long as I am playing this sport, 27 will always be there in someway. Somehow this number has gotten me through all the tough times like injuries and coaches making me want to quit. Blood, sweat, and tears all went into this number. From tough coaches, to lenient coaches, to tough crowds and teams, it’s always been there for me. I am forever grateful of my past and how it’s gotten me to where and who I am today. So, thank you number 27.