Emmy And Me

End Of The V Ball Season



The week after the pool party we won both our playoff games and for the first time in thirty-two years won our district. It was crazy fantastic, but it meant that we’d have to go up against Temecula Valley High to proceed any farther towards the state championship. They hadn’t lost a game all season and had blown through their playoff schedule with ease. We hadn’t played them at all this year, but our coach had watched a couple of their games and she thought she had a good idea of what we were up against.

“It’s going to be tough, but they aren’t invincible,” Coach Meyers said at practice. “The key is going to be defense. If we can shut Ashley Jones down we’ll win.”

We all knew who Ashley Jones was. “SmAshley” was the terror of the Southern California volleyball courts. It was well known that she’d signed a letter of intent to play at Penn State when she was just a sophomore, and they were one of the powerhouse colleges in women’s volleyball. She was also one of the rising stars being groomed for Olympic glory, frequently training at the Olympic Training Center with the big girls.

I say ‘big girls’ somewhat facetiously, since SmAshley was six foot four and not a tiny girl by anybody’s standard. She wasn’t just tall, either. She was muscular, too. Nobody looked forward to facing her across the net. Nobody.

Coach had a plan that seemed workable, but it meant that I was going to be the one in the line of fire the most. It was going to be a bruising, physical match-up, and I just knew I was going to be the one getting bruised.

Emmy was a whole lot more confident in our chances than I was. “I watched their game against Redlands last week,” she told me. “You can win, I am sure of it.”

“You did what?” I asked, astonished.

“I drove up to Temecula to watch them play against Redlands,” she explained. “I wanted to see your competition for myself.”

“Wow- that’s… um, going above and beyond, I guess.”

“No, it is a reasonable course of action,” she replied. “And what I saw makes me think that you have a very good chance of winning. There are two keys to beating Temecula. The first one is to play strong defensively, as Coach Meyers said. The second one, though, is to attack SmAshley directly.”

“What do you mean ‘attack her’?” I asked, puzzled.

“She is weak on defense. She cannot jump very high at all, and so her blocks are too low. Because she is very tall, that works all right for her when the ball comes in at a low trajectory, but if you jump very high when you spike the ball she will be unable to stop it.”

“Maybe,” I said, thinking about it. “But if that’s true, why doesn’t everyone know this? Why haven’t other teams been able to do it?”

“I do not know about any teams other than Redlands, but their strategy was to play away from SmAshley. I think she intimidated them and therefore limited the court they used. The problem for this is that the best defensive player for Temecula is actually Paige Walters, and if they play away from SmAshley, Paige is right there.”

“Hmmm…” This made sense, but again, if it was so obvious that Emmy (who didn’t know the game that well) could see it why hadn’t the Redlands coach figured it out? I had my doubts.

Normally only team members ride in the van to games, but somehow Emmy talked Coach into letting her ride with us. I guess attending all our home and away games and being sort of our good luck charm helped make her part of the team in some way. It was nice to have her company, even though the ride was only half an hour.

The Temecula gym was a sea of red and white. The crowd was twice the size we ever got at any of our games, and our family members and friends that came to watch had to pack in tight in the section set aside for Fallbrook fans. Our gold and blue looked a bit pathetic in that loud mob of Temecula supporters. Even before the start the Temecula crowd was shouting and cheering. It was more than just a little bit overwhelming, and I must admit I felt a bit demoralized when I thought about how little support we got for our team at home compared to this frenzy the Temecula team enjoyed.

The Temecula girls came out onto the floor to tons of applause and cheering, loudest of all for SmAshley, who was last in line. It was my first glimpse of her, and she lived up to all the hype. She was big and scary looking, all right. I mean, she wasn’t a bad-looking girl or anything like that- mainly just big. Really big.

During our first game I thought about what Emmy had said. It was natural to want to play away from SmAshley. You almost couldn’t help it. I saw my chance a few minutes into play, and called to Abbie to set the ball high for me. I jumped as high as I could, and just spiked it as hard as possible at SmAshley, making sure it was the side away from Paige.

Much to my surprise (and everybody else’s for that matter) it worked. She couldn’t get under it in time, and the kill was perfect.

We lost the first game, but not as badly as I’d feared we would. The second went down to the wire, but we pulled out a win. By the end of the second game it had become obvious that I was clearly targeting SmAshley, and she responded by spiking the ball my way whenever she had the chance. Between games Emmy came down to the floor to talk.

“You are doing fantastic!” she said. “Now you need to destroy her.”

“Destroy her?” I asked, unsure what Emmy was talking about.

“Take her out of the game. I saw when you blocked that shot about midway through that SmAshley had no response to it. What you should do now is go up every time she gets the ball. Show her that you are not intimidated, and in fact that you are the one she should be afraid of.”

“You make it sound so easy,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“It will not be easy. But if you do it, I think SmAshley will become neutralized, and without her, Temecula is not as good as you are.”

Coach Meyers surprised me by speaking up. I hadn’t realized she was standing right behind me, listening to what Emmy said.

“She may be right, Farmer. I was surprised earlier when you took it to Jones, but it’s been working well for you. If you can get in her face, it may ruin her game.”

“It may ruin my face if I don’t do it just right!” I protested.

“You see that guy over there?” Coach asked, pointing at a middle-aged man seated midcourt, third row. “That’s Joe Burke. He coaches the Stanford women’s team. I’m pretty sure he came to talk to Jones, but if you can dominate her it will make a big impression. Don’t play for me, or for Fallbrook. Play for him. Play for your future.”

“Stanford? Seriously?” I asked, looking at the unprepossessing man who had a clipboard and was taking notes, I now noticed.

Emmy chimed in “Oh, Leah- put your fears aside. This is yours to take.”

Just then the ref whistled, letting us know it was time for the next game. Emmy went back to her seat, and I thought about what she’d said. She’d been right about SmAshley’s weak defensive skills, after all…

I decided that I was going to do it. I was going to put my life at risk and get in front of the ball every time SmAshley touched it. If I took some hits, well, that was just going to be the price I would pay. We’ve got good medical insurance, and maybe if my nose got broken I could have the doctor give me a cute little button nose, right?

It really didn’t work out that way, though. Once I started roofing SmAshley every chance I got and stuffed more than a few of her spikes she did fade away. In fact, she started playing away from me, which put a load on the others. Nicole took a ball to the face and had to sit out the rest of the match, but Jenny Charter stepped up and filled in well.

We still lost the third game, but not by much, and SmAshley’s influence was on the decline. I really was shutting her down. The problem was that by focusing on her so much, it freed up the other Temecula girls to shine, and they proved that she wasn’t the only reason they’d gone undefeated until that night.

We won the fourth game decisively and I was starting to think that we really could win this thing. I had clearly won the contest versus SmAshley and the Temecula crowd was losing its steam, while our tiny cheering section had been getting louder and louder.

Sadly, the fifth game did not go our way and we lost by a couple of boneheaded plays on our part. This meant the match went to Temecula three to two and our playoff run was over. We were headed home, and SmAshley and the rest of the Temecula girls were going to the State Quarterfinals in Stockton.

I felt crushed, having come so close and tasted the win only to have it slip away. Looking around at my teammates, it was obvious that we all felt the same way.

Emmy came bouncing down the bleachers and ran up, giving me a big hug. “Leah, that was amazing! You all did such an incredible job!” she cheered.

“We lost,” I said numbly, not returning her hug.

“Yes, you did, but you did what no other team has been able to do before. You very nearly beat Temecula, and you completely dominated SmAshley Jones.”

“I guess,” I responded, not really feeling so good about our achievements.

Nicole, who was standing right there, spoke up. “Yeah, we did O.K., and honestly better than I expected we would. We didn’t win, and I feel really bad about that. Maybe if I’d stayed in…”

Coach shouted for us all to gather round for her post-game pep talk, and she made some of the same comments.

“Look, I know it was a heartbreaker. I know you all felt that this was winnable, and it really was. I know you all feel like dirt right now, but I have to tell you I am so very proud. This has been the best team I have ever coached, and I want you all to know that each and every one of you did a phenomenal job out there tonight. For some of you this is your last game as a Lancer, and I’ll be very sorry to see you go. Others of you have next year to build on this season, and take it even farther.”

Sure it was all platitudes, but we all knew she really meant it. I have to admit I choked up a bit when Coach went around the circle and hugged every one of us. When she was done, she added “I want you all to come to regular workouts for the rest of the term. I know it may seem like a waste, but I’m dead serious about building the program, and I want us all to do this together, starting tomorrow.”

After a general sort of agreement, we all went to shuffle back to the locker room when Coach Meyers called over to me to wait up.

“Leah,” she said, using my given name for the first time ever. “I’d like you to meet Joe Burke. He’s the coach at Stanford.” Obviously I knew that, since she’d pointed him out but I realized that she was making a point of the formal introduction.

“Joe, this is Leah Farmer. She’s a graduating senior this year with an excellent GPA, and, as I understand it, high S.A.T. scores.” I understood what she was doing, trying to make me an attractive prospect to pursue, and I appreciated it.

“Pleased to meet you,” I said, extending my hand. He shook it, and looked me up and down.

“Pleased to meet you, too,” he replied. “If you don’t mind me asking, you’re what, six foot even, right?”

“Um, yeah, I guess so. I haven’t checked my height in a while, though,” I said, a bit embarrassed at the way he was evaluating me, like a racehorse or something.

“About a hundred fifty pounds, right?” I nodded yes, blushing a bit. “You play bigger, and I mean that as a compliment.”

“I’m sorry- what?” I asked, unsure what he meant.

“Well, Ashley Jones is six foot four, a hundred and eighty pounds. She’s a big girl, international caliber big. She’s very physical, and yet you controlled her tonight. I’ve seen her play at a number of tournaments, and very rarely have I seen anybody just get in her face the way you did. It was quite impressive.”

“Um… Thanks,” I said. This isn’t the way I thought things were going to go tonight, and I was still having a hard time processing it.

Mr. Burke then dropped a bombshell. “You could start for Stanford with a game like the one you showed tonight. In fact, you could probably start as a freshman. I’d like you to apply to Stanford. I don’t know if our school was on your list, but let me know if you think you’d like to come up to Palo Alto and take a look at our program.”

“Stanford?” I asked, dazed.

“Now, don’t kid yourself. It’s a hard school academically, and our program is tough, too. But if you think you might have what it takes…” he trailed off, but the meaning was clear.

I was still in a daze walking to the bus. Word had gotten around that I was just recruited for one of the top programs in the country, and the other girls were a mix of envy and congratulations. Emmy was over the moon.

“Stanford University! Can you imagine that? We could both go! It would be fantastic!” She just kept chattering away like that, but I was too overwhelmed to come up with any coherent replies. She kept giving me quick hugs in her excitement for me.

When we got out of the van back at FHS, a sizable crowd of family members and schoolmates were there to cheer for us. It took out some of the sting of losing, and after a few minutes of backslapping and any number people telling us “You did great” I began to feel as if we really had done something special that night.

The next day at school a lot of kids came up to me to tell me what a great game I’d played the night before, but I knew for a fact that very few of them had been there to watch it. Somebody had even taped a little congratulations card to my locker. It said “Good Job, Giant Killer!” and tons of people had signed it.

For that one day, the girls’ V Ball squad were the big celebrities at school. It was nice, but a bit annoying, too. Recalling the enormous crowd that Temecula had in their gym, I wondered why we never had anything like that.

“Fair weather fans,” agreed Abbie at workout that afternoon. Well, it wasn’t really a workout at all. Despite what Coach had said about wanting to start on next year’s training immediately, she didn’t have us suit up. Instead, she had cake and ice cream ready for us. “A good way to celebrate the end of a great season, and the beginning of another,” she said, and I had to agree.

When everybody was leaving, Coach called me to her office. Emmy (who had hardly eaten any cake, that skinny little…) tagged along out of curiosity.

“Leah,” Coach said, again using my first name. It sounded so weird coming from her that I wasn’t sure what was up. “I think Mr. Burke was serious last night. I know you have good grades and test scores, so Stanford wouldn’t be out of your league as far as that goes. If he can swing a full athletic scholarship for you, this is an opportunity of a lifetime. My best advice to you is to pursue it. Pursue it immediately, too. Don’t take time to think about it. Strike while the iron is hot. If you want, I’ll call him up for you and set up a visit. You and your family can go up for a weekend and see the school, check out the program.” She paused, then emphasized “Let Burke know that you’re interested. He can make things easier for you with the admissions process, and with housing. Just don’t let this slip away.”

“I thought about it some last night, and talked about it with my mom,” I replied, thinking about what Coach had just said. “And she thinks that I should go for it, too.”

“Excellent. Go online and get all the information you can, and talk to Mrs. Nash, the counselor. She’ll help you get everything together.”

Driving home in Emmy’s Mini I confessed, “I’m just so dazed. This is all happening so fast.” Then “What do you think I should do?”

“I think that you should apply, and see what you can get. You have been working very hard for this for years, and now the reward is within reach you should take it.”

“But, Stanford… It’s full of rocket scientists and people like that. It’s a really big deal.”

“Are you telling me that you are not smart enough? That is nonsense,” Emmy snorted. “You are smart, and you work extremely hard. That is a better combination than most people have.” Then, changing her tone, she added “And besides, my parents want me to go to Stanford, so we could go there together.”

“They do?”

“Why do you sound so surprised? It is an excellent university, among the finest in the world.”

“Well, yeah, I guess… it’s just that I figured you’d go to the Sorbonne or something.”

“No, we are Californians now, so I will go to a Californian University.”

“And you can get into Stanford?” I asked, unsure of where Emmy’s confidence came from.

“Of course. I am a good student, after all.”

“Yeah, that’s true. I saw what you got on that Bio test.”

“And of course, my parents have lots of money,” she said with a conspiratorial smile.


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