My daughter is a volleyball player.
She’s also a dancer and a cheerleader. She’s 12, so she’s just coming into her own, starting to become the woman that she will eventually be.
She’s tried a lot of things over the years. She’s played softball, but has given that up (she was hitting better than her brother), she tried basketball but didn’t like that (it didn’t help that she was on a pretty bad team. I mean, I know these youth sports are to have fun and learn the game and all, but you can only take losing for so long.)
She’s danced since she was in kindergarten, with the exception of one year when she tried gymnastics. Now when I watch her in practice and at her recitals, I think she’s one of the best dancers out there. (It could be just fatherly pride, but really… she’s great!)
But now volleyball’s her thing. She played on a rec team a few years ago, and they did okay. Then last year she played in a different league that was a little more competitive. After the season, her coach asked her to play on a competitive team this fall.
She’s small, so she doesn’t fly up to the net like Kerry Walsh. But she is quick and can bump and set accurately. This new team just started practice, and games will begin soon. It will be fun to watch her develop, and to see if perhaps volleyball will be the sport she latches onto throughout high school.
Of course, if she decides not to play sports, that’s fine too. She’s a great girl who does really well in her classes, seems to get along with everybody, and who is generally happy. I’m sure she’ll be successful no matter what she does.
But seeing her on the dance floor or volleyball court is so fun for me as a dad. She’s living a very active and well-rounded life, and I think she will be all the better for it.
At least, I hope so.