When I was growing up, no one exercised. Sure, adults played tennis or golf (in my family, the game was mah jongg, which required no exercise), and we kids jumped rope or played a spirited game of tag, but no one short of Jack LaLanne actually exercised. Until high school, that is. In high school, girls were forced to wear those dumpy, one-piece gym suits that you absolutely, positively had to iron. To go to gym class without your gym suit ironed was probably the worst transgression you could commit in high school, besides chewing gym (those WERE the good old days; now they bring guns to school, but I digress).
When I was young and worked for Johnson & Johnson, I played softball, but that was just playing an athletic game; again, not organized exercise. So it’s ironic that all of us who tried so hard to get out of gym class (“I have my period,” “I have to take a make-up test,” etc.) now actually join gyms and pay to exercise. My form of exercise – besides my walks – is to go to aqua aerobics three times a week. And on Monday and Wednesday after we finish AA, about a dozen or so of the mostly senior ladies stay to play volleyball in the pool.
These hours, my friends, are the best of the week.
First, there are no rules. Well, there is one rule: Don’t get Tina’s hair wet. Yeah, I know, you’re in the pool, right? Yes, but I don’t like getting my hair wet, and, besides, there should be some rules. That’s it for the rules.
We don’t keep score, but we do count the number of times the ball goes over the net -- and UNDER the net, for that matter, because nothing is off limits. If the person on the other side can’t reach the ball at the net and you can, you reach under and hit it to the nearest player on the other side, who will at least try to hit it OVER the net and who will be grateful for your help. If the ball bounces out of the pool but keeps bouncing and you can get it back into the pool without having it land in the water and someone hits it over the net, that’s fine. If you hit someone in the head and it goes over, it still counts. If you have to play it off the net 3-4 times just to get it up high enough that you can hit it over the net, that’s fine, too, but we only count the number of times it goes over the net, not the number of times we actually hit the ball. In any given rally, the ball might be hit by every player on one side before it goes over. We count that as one.
Second, talking may be frowned upon by some of the players, but it can hardly be contained. Invariably, around 11:30, the topic will turn to food – just as lunch hour approaches and I am getting hungry. Singing, while also frowned upon, cannot always be controlled either. Nor can discussions about the plots of “Revenge,” “Downton Abbey” and other shows we all like to watch.
The age range among the players goes from just turned 50 to at least one woman in her 80s, with several players of indeterminate years. Experience is not necessary. We will train the newcomers. Go for everything and apologize for nothing. Volleyball means never having to say, “I’m sorry.”
Margaret, who used to date someone in the Navy, ties the net across the pool. We use a big pink ball, not a volleyball (which would be too hard). If the ball is hit out of the pool and down the ramp, the youngest person in the pool has to get out and get it. A few of these ladies will always be exempt from this task. Every 10 minutes we rotate so that everyone gets a chance to play each position. If you hit the ball off the very high ceiling, it is still in play.
While we don’t have rules, we do have official excuses, and we have compiled a list that can be used any time a player misses the ball. Among them: “The ball was wet,” “I was splashed,” “The ball was slippery,” (see excuse one) and other understandable and oft-quoted reasons for missing the ball.
Missing the game is a different story. As AA class goes on, people start counting the players (not everyone participates) available. If you can’t stay that day, you’d better have a good excuse (doctor’s appointment, death in the family, among others, are acceptable).
One woman was missing in action for a few weeks. Usually, when someone is going away, she will let the other players know in advance. Heading to a wedding, going to Brooklyn to see a relative, having a hip replaced (remember, these are mostly senior women), having a meeting at Douglass (guess whose excuse that one is) are all acceptable absences. So when Sandy disappeared for a few weeks, we were all concerned. When she came back and was asked where she had been, she replied, “I was at volleyball camp.” Now we plan to take volleyball classes on line so we don’t have to miss any pool time. We can put our feet in a bucket of water while studying to make the experience more realistic. We also advise the people who are away on extended vacations that they will have to try out and take a written exam to see if they can make the team upon their return.
Our aspiration is make the Olympic team. Granted, water volleyball is not currently an Olympic sport, but if the people who govern such decisions could see us in action, they might just change their minds. Last year, in anticipation of this development, Angela and I bought matching bathing suit cover-ups showing beautiful, bikini-clad bodies. Who wouldn’t want to feature us in the Parade of Nations in those get-ups?
So what makes this hour the best of the week? Aside from the camaraderie, it is just fun. Each week, some new, ridiculous thing will happen. The ball will balance precariously on the net while players remain at the ready to hit it on whatever side it lands. When you have hit the ball and you are sure it isn’t going over the net, you yell “HELP” to alert a teammate that it is up to her to save it. You can pass the ball backwards to someone if you have a bad angle (while yelling “BACK” to alert someone). We have a typically inane discussion that suddenly quiets down as the total of successful hits builds until all you hear is the “thwack” sound of striking the ball. No one wants to be the person who misses the ball and kills the rally. Two people usually do the counting, and they get nearly identical totals most of the time. Invariably, after a long rally, the next few rallies won’t reach 10.
But of all the best hours of the week, today’s session was the most exceptional, as a combination of athletic prowess, incredible skill and sheer determination by all nine players resulted in a new record of 110 times over the net. It was our first ever triple digit total and it shattered our old record of 92. We shrieked, we shouted, we celebrated – and then we barely broke 10 for the next few minutes while the excitement subsided.
This truly was the best hour of the week.
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