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Spiked Punch

Another Prescription

By Andy Doctoroff

One of the compers here at the Crimson--she's from Chicago--said the other day, "I never really liked volleyball. You hit the ball, someone misses it, and then you score a point. Whoopie." She'll be cut.

When the sports editor gave me the women's volleyball beat, I spent the next few hours wondering what I had done wrong. You see, I'm from Detroit, and I thought that a volleyball was only something you shoot when all the basketballs are being used.

If someone asked me what I was up to at the newspaper, I'd reply, "Well, I spend lots of time editing Becky Hartman's soccer pieces."

But then I talked to my roommate--he grew up outside Los Angeles--and he said, "Doc, why so bummed? When the surf's not up, we play volleyball on the beach. It's hotter than The Clash. Volleyball is totally awesome."

My roommate's statement really confused me. So, that night, I lay awake in my bed wondering, "What do those funky, mellow Californians know that we Easterners don't?" Who would have guessed that something like that was possible?

Before resigning from the Crimson--or even worse, switching from writing sports to news--I decided to give the volleyball beat a chance.

Manic Depression

The bus ride to Wheaton seemed gloomy. The sky, ominous and foreboding. About to cover a women's volleyball match for the Harvard Crimson, I was in no mood for joviality.

But the trip back to Cambridge was fun. The players and I stopped for pizza. I had pepperoni. We all laughed together. We sang the lyrics to the theme song from Gilligan's Island.

What had happened at Wheaton?

The team was happy because it rebounded from a two-game deficit to beat the Lions for a season-opening victory. I was happy because I discovered that volleyball--like my roommate said--"burns." It really is hot. That one afternoon at Wheaton, I had caught volleyball fever.

Now I understand why thousands upon thousands of beach creatures annually attend the USC-UCLA volleyball match. No, they're not stoned. Not all of them, anyway. It's just that volleyball is a great sport.

A typical sports enthusiast if asked to compile ranking of the most physically demanding games may put football, basketball and hockey at the top of the list with volleyball just edging out Parcheesi.

But anyone who has witnessed one match of organized volleyball knows that the sport is completely different from most people's preconceived impression of the game.

No Sweat

Yes, bodies must stretch into pretzel-like shapes to make contact with the ball. Yes, the audience hears groans. Yes, sweat is constantly dripping to the floor. Yes, the athletes must run fast, jump high and hit hard. The amount of physical endurance needed to excel in volleyball is much closer to football's demands than to those of croquet.

But unless you have a knowledge of football, it is difficult to appreciate the game. Europeans hate American football. They find it slow-paced, boring, and tedious to watch. However, even the most ignorant spectator--just off the boat from Qatar--can value the action of volleyball being performed in front of him. I did.

The strong hitter provides some of the thrills with her bullet spikes. Sometimes, the ball ricochets across the net so fast that it's hard to keep track of who hit it last. Crimson senior Margaret Cheng's setting is performed so gracefully and naturally that it becomes a form of physical beauty. You don't have to be an expert in the game of volleyball to appreciate all of this.

The excitement of volleyball coupled with its demand for high athletic achievement makes the sport unique. And Harvard volleyball has both exciting plays and athletic feats.

In the past three weeks, I've seen a lot of Harvard women's volleyball games. And, to the great dismay of many, I have not quit the Crimson. In the spring, I'll make sure that the most resourceful and skilled comper gets the men's volleyball beat. The sport deserves it.

But the biggest lesson of this whole episode is that Californians may be smarter than we think they are. So when a beach bunny from San Diego giggles and asks you, "Have you seen a volleyball match today?" remember: don't laugh.

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