Losing my cool

Big game tomorrow. I have borrowed the video camera from school to film the game and you can see me in action. Purchased the appropriate cable to download said film and hopefully you'll see it soon. You'll have to wait a bit, cos I'll be furiously editing out my fuck-ups!

I'm terribly excited and terrifically terrified. I think the latter feeling is going to kick in much later. I'm packing a very nutritious lunch, à la my volleyball coach from high school, Mr Lacar. Tuna salad and cheese (couldn't get the provolone) on bagels are a must. Even when I smell the tuna salad, I think... volleyball. Also lots of fruit.

Volleyball Pal and I have hatched a plan to form a team for next month's volleyball tournament in Perth, about an hour or so north of Edinburgh. It's the biggest tournament in Scotland and, stupidly, they insist on playing the majority of it outside. Hello, it's Scotland and it will be pissing it down. I personally hate playing volleyball outside anyway. Usually outdoor volleyball is on the sand and I have always had issues with sand, even with living on a semitropical island as a child. But mostly, I hate outdoor cos players are too casual. Beginners are often encouraged to join in and it can be dangerous: I've been injured by new players who aren't sure what to do. Even with experienced players, form is dropped and all kinds of playing is seen -- double hits, lifts. Really annoying.

VP wants to camp out. I don't know if my old body can take it. I stayed in a B&B last year and want to do the same this year. I just think that with having to deal with playing outside, the lack of playing form, and the vast amount of encouraged drunkenness, sleeping on the floor of a tent is going to push me over the edge. And I can't stand the out-doing that is going to go on: "I've only slept 5 hours in 3 days!" "I drank 17 cans of lager last night!" "I haven't showered ever and I'm so minging!" Oh, just get a fucking life, you morons. Cos this did happened last year and cos these people are British. Your shit is irrelevant compared to theirs -- it can't be that bad for you, cos they've had it worse. And my coach is bad for that shit. Turtle was out for 2 weeks during the season with a chest infection. His response to her absence: "I don't understand it. I played with pneumonia once."

Watch this space, as I'll blog as soon as to let you know how the game went. I just know you're on the edge of your seat. If we don't win the Plate, maybe they'll send us home with a nice spoon. The winners of the Silver Spoon. Hmmmm...