Since I was rained in yesterday, I did a bit of digital walking around the blogosphere. One of the things I learned was that the ancient literal translation of gymnasium means "going naked" [in order to exercise that is]! BTW, a NY-sized good luck goes to Scott Goldblatt for tomorrow's race!

As I took my walk-about [as the Aussie's call it] I found it interesting that a number of the male bloggers I read commented on one thing, the size and style of the speedos sported by the various swim teams. Of course no complaints were voiced by those who watched the beach volleyball tournament involving Misty May and Kerri Walsh.

Actually there were 2 interesting comments I noted in my travel. One of Sgt. Hook's soldiers commented on the Men's Water Polo swim suit [I guess he was afraid they might fall off], and Mrs. Jarvis, wondered if what Kerri Walsh was sporting could be called a thong. Of course the Buzzmeister was too busy assessing the suit to answer.

All of this brought to mind my days of competitive high school volleyball. Unfortunately, my parents wouldn't let me participate in beach volleyball (which was my favorite sport) because of the small 2 piece suits worn by the women. Actually, our high school team was the first school to sport the new regulation briefs. What my parents didn't know is that regular volleyball uniforms were not much better.

In all honesty, I did hate my uniform's briefs, what teenage girl is so full of confidence that thinks she looks fabulous in anything. Yes, that's what they were -briefs. As much as I hated them I knew they were the best thing to play in, as they allowed for quick unrestricted movement. Workouts in regular shorts were murder because sometimes you would get fabric burns as you suddenly moved to reach for a low ball. Unfortunately for us girls, those high cut briefs made us the target of too many (sometimes rude) comments from guys.

The uniforms did help us in that our team was very popular and finacially well supported. We had the most attendance at our games than any other sport at school. I for one, was always glad when the game started because it made me focus intensely, helping me block out everything and everyone outside the game.

I will never forget the day that my dad decided to surprise me by showing up to one of my games. You see, he thought my warm up pants was the bottom part of my uniform. Imagine his surprise when he showed up and finds me in the ready position at the net. A ready position is when you bend at a 45 degree angle at the waist (usually arms in front of you ready to be raised over the net to block) an opposing team member's serve.

You can imagine the view my preacher father had of my rear end, which up until that point in my life had been safely covered by a skirt, the length of which was always safely below the knee.

After the game, I got a very long lecture in the parking lot (thankfully away from everyone). My dad, while trying to contain his anger and shame, kept referring to how upset my mom would be if she had seen me play in those "blue silk panties." I don't know if he was angrier over not knowing about my uniform style or knowing that a number of his most important congregants had seen me playing in that outfit. I still remember his last words to me on that day, "it was as if you were playing wearing nothing but a blue pair of panties."

A month later I was enrolled in the cloistered environment of a convent school, far away from family, friends, and all those "rude boys that made lewd comments" at my last game.

After 6 weeks of being at an all girls school, and not seeing one guy in sight, I decided to tryout for the only open spot on the volleyball team. All the girls that tried out were unbelievably driven, but as the coach put it, "I was the lucky one who had the skills." Having been told the good news, I quickly rushed to keep up with the other girls who were eagerly headed for practice. As I entered the gym I stopped dead in my tracks, it was then that I discovered that the nearby jesuit military academy used our gymnasium for their volleyball games and practices.

It seems that since we shared the same coach, he usually had us practice drills with each other. After 6 weeks of boredom, all I could think of was "lucky me"! It's just unfortunate that the guys briefs, though shorter than regular shorts, were not as short as our high cut briefs. Now that was truly unfair back then. It seems that now, by the looks of the Men's Water Polo swim suits, things have come round full circle!

Posted by: Michele at 10:50 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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