05.31.18

A story of suffering and some tips about intramural sports

Anthony Poisal / For The Post

“We’re doomed.”

The two-word sentence will never be strong enough to encapsulate my first experience playing an intramural sport, four vs. four sand volleyball, at Ohio University. I had no hope whenever I dug my feet into the sand and awaited the first of many, many lost serves from the older, taller and stronger players on the other side of the net.

My team didn’t win either of the two games we played in, but we didn’t go winless — our final game of the dreadful three-game season was postponed because the other team didn’t show up. The forfeit gave us our only “win” of the season.

I was a freshman just three weeks into my new life at Ohio. I was fresh off a summer that included several high school graduation parties with some friends back in Maryland, my home state. There was a volleyball net in the yard for most of the parties, and we played endless rounds of volleyball at each.

Naturally, I wanted to sign up for sand volleyball as my first intramural sport in college. The problem was I didn’t yet know anyone well enough to ask them to be on a team, so I went to an intramural meeting, which placed me with other random guys looking to make a group.

Our relationship went well until we quickly realized that we were not going to win one game together on the sand. Each of the two teams we played dominated us into an embarrassment I never experienced in my previous 13 years playing sports.

The intramural volleyball here at Ohio was much different than what I had hoped from playing at the graduation parties back home.

Garrett McCafferty | PROVIDED

Martyna Faith, Deanna Ceccardi, Jimmy DiFrancesco, and Travis Picquet play volleyball on South Green.

The small, fun-sized net we stuck into the grass at the parties suddenly felt like a monstrous (I’m 5-foot-6) wall lodged in the sand, which I had to hastily wipe off my legs several times after unsuccessfully diving to keep the ball in the air.

The boundaries of the court were no longer sized to everyone’s liking using a shoe or flip-flop. The truer, but terrifyingly wider dimensions on the South Beach sand volleyball courts meant the other team could just strategically place the ball in any space unoccupied by us to win point after point.

There were no prolonged, captivating rallies that made the winning side erupt in cheers after outlasting the other. We didn’t have any miraculous diving plays that injected a team the energy needed to pull off a comeback.

Instead, we were dealt two painful losses, one relieving win (only because we didn’t have to play) and an occasional face-full of sand that felt more like a bag of salt poured onto one gaping wound.

I haven’t played in an intramural sport since those painful 30 minute sessions of suffering, but I’m not trying to suggest that you should never play intramurals.

Please, just don’t do it like me.

Because then it won’t feelas bad if you all just embarrass yourselves. If you’re with people whom you’re meeting for the first time or two, there’s no way to shake off the misery. It’s very likely that those dreadful games will be the only “memories” you share with your team.

Before going to Ohio, I was advised by a friend to not pick competitive flag football as an intramural because I heard that people who were cut from the football team tend to join those leagues. He then advised me to stick with the other option — recreational — for a more suitable and fun experience.

Still going off the high from playing yard volleyball at home, I stupidly picked competitive volleyball and severely paid the price.

I may be OK at hitting a volleyball over a small net with way more than four people on either side, but I am not a good volleyball player.

But only if you correctly followed the previous three guidelines.

Development by: Megan Knapp / Digital Production Editor