Das Ist VOLLEYBALL!

HAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAAAHAHAHHAHA!! I just came from volleyball and experienced something absolutely worth blogging.

I've gone Wednesdays so far, so this was my first Monday night. We get there and we start running laps, which Lauren and I already thought was a bit ridiculous for pick-up, but little did we know that the Europeans would soon far surpass our ideas of ridiculousness. On Wednesdays, the coach is usually this petite little French woman. Today, it was a young, solemn-faced German man. So we start peppering in pairs and we see him bring out four benches and line them up across from each other, two by two, on each baseline. What are the benches for? we wonder as we continue to pepper. Then we see him bring out small red cones. He begins to place them strategically all over the court. When he's done, he calls us over, about 14 of us, and starts explaining in German. I'm just zoning out, but Lauren, who understands a little bit, whispers to me, "We're doing 25 minutes of conditioning."

And for some reason, I BURST out laughing. I mean BURST. And I felt so bad, but I couldn't help it; can you BELIEVE this guy?! Conditioning?! What are we, a division-one team going into a championship match?! This is freaking pick-up! I hunch over and hide behind Lauren, trying to stifle my laughter until I can compose myself. He then proceeds to show us the drills he wants us to run, including a suicide-like drill with the cones. He even gets FRUSTRATED when the kid he picks to demonstrate a setting drill with doesn't do it right! I turn to Lauren. "And are the benches so we can sit and take a break between drills?"

Oh, no. The BENCHES were to STAND on and pepper to each other as you shimmy down them. Yep. AKA: How to play volleyball without killing yourself. He says to go ahead but Lauren and I can barely stop laughing let along run sprints between cones. I was dying. By the end, I wasn't sure if I couldn't breathe because of the drills or if I couldn't breathe because I was laughing too hard. We run through the course three times and he yells out, "Après cinq fois vous pouvez s'arrêter!" CINQ fois?! I gape at Lauren and we start laughing again. I can't take this guy seriously! But HE sure took himself seriously, let me tell you. After that drill he changed it oh-so-slightly and we ran it five more times. In between drills I heard a kid whisper to his friend, "J'ai soif." NO DRINKS! DRILLS, DRILLS!

Finally he lets us have drinks and begins to dismantle his contraptions for the game. We all get into position and I notice he's got a score card. That's right, the Volleyball Nazi is going to keep score. Ooo, I took that too far. Considering he spoke German I probably shouldn't call him a Nazi. The Volleyball ENTHUSIAST was going to keep score. Anyway, the games went well and Lauren and I pissed our pants all the way home. "Das ist volleyball!" Needless to say, Monday nights is clearly not for messing around.

=)