When they hear “beach volleyball,” most people think of picturesque, seashell-rimmed, blue-watered, sandy beaches, and volleyball courts lined with spectators catching rays and happily baking in the sun watching their favorite stars.
There are some events just like that.
But… as the AVP Pro Beach Volleyball Tour expands and adds events, we have had to bring the beach to non-coastal cities. The AVP will truck in sand and literally build a beach on city parking lots, baseball diamonds, and tennis stadiums. With more cities as potential hosts, the calendar of available dates for play is expanding as well.
A couple of years ago, the AVP had an event in Texas. It was a man-made event on a grassy park near a river. The event was held in the spring, so we were all delighted when the first day of the four-day event was gorgeous. Hot and humid, little to no wind—ideal conditions for competing on the sand in your swimsuit.
The second day was a different story. I woke up early in the morning with cracks of thunder and lightning brightening up my hotel room. The wind was so severe you could hear its constant whistle, and peeking out the window, I saw trees bending horizontally. The rain came down in huge droplets, and puddles were developing into flowing currents. Perhaps it was a common storm for Texas, but it portended a very uncommon day of volleyball.
By the time 8 a.m. rolled around, it may have not been as windy, but my memory is fuzzy on that detail. Instead, my whole focus was on surviving the 30-degree temperatures, with drizzling rain. Yes, in less than twelve hours the temperature had dropped from the high 70s to the low 30s. Forget sunscreen and sunglasses, on top of our bikinis we wore nearly all the clothes we’d brought on the trip, plus garbage bags with torn holes for our heads. The players were huddled together in the official players’ tent, some swaddled in hotel blankets. It was miserable.
Much to my misfortune, I had a first-round game. AVP officials started announcing that the tournament was starting, and dead silence fell throughout the players’ tent. The rules state that tournaments will go on in all conditions except for lightning, and weather reports indicated the lightning storms had passed. Begrudgingly, my partner and I headed to our assigned court.
They gave us the usual fifteen minutes for warm-ups, but I assure you, there was nothing warm about it. The rain was coming down so hard it was useless to keep layers of clothes on, since the freezing water weighed them down and pressed them to our skin. We stripped to only one layer of long sleeves and tights. My feet went numb fast. If you have ever walked in sand with numb feet, then you can relate to the foolishness of the experience. Sand is an uneven surface, and under the best of circumstances, your lower limb coordination is slower. It was a very graceful sight.
The game started, and I was served the first ball. To my delight, I passed perfectly, and my partner ran in to set me. The next action you would typically see in a professional beach volleyball game is that I would hit the ball over the net. Hand contacts ball, ball accelerates over the net towards the sand on the other side. Well, that morning, lacking feeling in my feet or fingers, with rain pelting my unprotected eyes and matted hair, and freezing damp clothing clinging, I didn’t hit the ball with my hand. Instead, the ball hit me farther down my arm—near my forearm—giving it little chance of passing our side of the court. The whole odd experience knocked me off my feet, and I ended up a pile of shaking, drenched bones on the sand.
