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An early morning downpour had left the grass shiny with moisture. The wet blades squished between our toes and dampened our feet. The ball was a little deflated, smaller and more pliable than it ought to be, but that will happen to children’s playground balls when they sit unloved in the closet 11 months of the year. We’d be darned if we were going to use the hard soccer ball that was our only other option.
Lined up on the grass, one front row player, one back row, one picture taker from the porch, we were ready to start. “Volley for the serve!” The ball flew through the air and bounced onto the lower roof. The roof almost never uses its back row, towering high above the front row that covers the porch and garage.
Even though we were only doing a 2 player team, rotating in, we still went full court, from the south end of the roof to the north end of the grass. Half court has gotten to small as we and the tree at the south end of the court have grown. Super court is too hard, both in terms of difficulty of coverage and in terms of playing surface; it includes the driveway.
“Whop!” “Blat!” “Thud!” The ball bounced off gutter, ricocheted off our hands and occasionally slammed into the front window, or a cup of water resting on the porch. “We’re Frosted Flakes, we’re great!” Our old cheer went up, along with some very bad cheerleader-esque jumps.
It was a tough series – that roof never seems out of practice – but we came out a head, taking the series 2-0. Don’t worry roof, you’ll get another chance soon. Probably in winter, when you like to steal the ball and keep it for yourself.
1 comment:
that tree night have to come down says daddy, its looking sick :/ My first comment was no more interference! :p
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