The team huddled before the game, strategizing on how best to defeat our opponents. Photo by Alexandra HederstromMost cherubs are athletes second, if at all. Still, the program gave us a few chances to exercise our bodies, not just our typing fingers. My favorite athletic event was the cherub versus instructor volleyball game (until this year, the legendary match was called “wallyball” because the teams faced off on a racquetball court with walls.)
When the three of us who play volleyball competitively heard about the cherub versus instructor volleyball game, we made eye contact. We found each other two weeks earlier during a pick-up game at the beach. When the game was announced, we knew we wanted to play. We took this seriously. The instructors wanted to win but lacked, shall we say, the necessary prowess.
Game time arrived. J.J. Post led the team through lunges, shuffles and high knees while Maggie Pollard and I taught the employees how to set up a volleyball net. The game did not quite follow the standard rules, i.e. sticking to six players at a time on each side of the court, but everyone got involved.
By official standards, most of the plays were cringe-worthy, aside from, at least according to Post’s game recap, a select few “SportsCenter-worthy highlights.” Yet no one seemed to care or notice. Even as our fan base dwindled (the Olympic-size pool was stiff competition for the volleyball game), we heard applause and “woohoos” from our fans. Even my worst serves made my instructor Erica Snow scream at and duck away from the ball.
It was our energy — better yet, our synergy — that led us to victory. Our journalism instincts kicked in, and we took that extra step, not to get another source, but to reach the ball.