The Sunday came faster than I would have liked. When I woke up the sun shone through my curtains and I realized that it would be the very last day I would ever play volleyball. Walking downstairs I made myself breakfast, my usual scrambled eggs and two pieces of bacon, at that point it had become my superstitious game day meal. Sitting at our large circular wooden table, I remembered the first time I ever had this meal before volleyball. 

I was ten years old, and my mom had signed me up for a volleyball camp at our local middle school. My best friend and I had never set foot on a court, but we took tennis lessons together; our tennis coach would tell us that tennis translates well to volleyball. While walking into the first day of the camp had taken courage, we both instantly fell in love with the game. I specifically remember playing “queens” — a three versus three game where you are required to cover more court than a usual six versus six game — for the first time and having the best time. After our parents picked us up, we expressed how much fun was had, and we decided we wanted to try out for the middle school team. 

Sitting at my round table on that mundane Sunday morning, I couldn’t have been more thankful to my mom for signing me up for the camp; the camp that brought me years of fun to come. While at the time I didn't know how crucial that camp would be for me and my love for the sport, I could see how much of a purpose it served as I sat eating my pregame meal for the last time. After finishing my breakfast, I went back upstairs to my room to get ready. Grabbing my jersey from my closet I realized it would be the last time ever wearing it. For the past six years of my life, most of my weekends have been spent traveling to tournaments. 

Interrupting my thoughts my mom asked, “Are you almost ready to go?” 

I got ready and then packed my volleyball bag. Picking it up I noticed all of the tags that wrapped around the strap of the backpack. 

Each tag represented a different qualifier that I had attended. Flipping through each of them, I came to the Salt Lake City Showdown tag, which had been my favorite tournament by far. The convention center in Salt Lake sat directly across from my team's hotel, so it made for an easy commute to our games. I remembered the scavenger hunt our coach set up for us, where we had to go around taking pictures with specific people. Ranging from taking a picture with a college scout, to with twins, the scavenger hunt kept us entertained for a while. After finishing the day off strong in Salt Lake City, my team headed back to the hotel and split into pairs to play hide and seek. Hide and seek had always been an iconic hotel game and no matter what age I was, our team always enjoyed it after a long day of volleyball. After looking at each of my bag tags and recounting each memory, I headed out to our car ready to head to the tournament. 

When we arrived at the gym the day began. Luckily we won our first game, but the second and last game seemed like it could be a toss-up. The last set had come which meant my very last moments on the court were upon me, the end of an era was coming faster than I anticipated. Looking up I saw the score which read 14-12, the third set. My teammate went back to the service line and served, watching as it flew over the net, it was an ace! The other team had not gotten the ball meaning the game came to a close. I headed over to my bag to take off my court shoes.

Sliding off my knee pads, I realized while each weekend it seemed like I missed out on something like the SAT or prom, now looking back I wouldn’t trade those volleyball-consumed weekends for anything. Each event that I missed made me wish I had never committed to such a time-consuming sport, but with every memory behind me, it was hard not to wish I had soaked up each point, each match, and each tournament, a bit more. They say you never miss something until it's gone, and that couldn’t be more true for me. Volleyball has acted as an outlet for me throughout middle school and high school, and no matter how stressful school work was, volleyball has always been an escape from reality. In the blink of an eye on a mundane Sunday afternoon, club volleyball had come to a close. Six whole years of my life wrapped up as a single chapter on that slow, ordinary afternoon.