Chapter 1: How I Got Recruited

1st Chapter to this action-comedy teen novel.

Chapter 1: How I Got Recruited

Men’s volleyball, an underestimated sport where men fight in groups of six in a court to earn a championship for their school, has ruled my world since 5^th grade. Although volleyball isn’t viewed as such a manly sport, as mostly girls are seen playing, it has changed me and my life forever. My name is Miko Romeo, the rookie outside-hitter of Green Fighters Men’s Volleyball Team. I was a pretty gawky kid in elementary school. I was sort of an odd ball with my thick-framed glasses paired with my height (5.5 at that time). I was a big fan of comic books as a child and I remember bringing my action figures of Superman and Batman in 2^nd grade and I play with them during break time. I was also teased quite a lot during the final years of middle school as I play volleyball, like superheroes, is an otaku and apparently, my yellowish complexion annoys the heck out of people. I just remember the thrill when I tried playing in 5^th grade, I decided to try volleyball as some sort of recreational activity, and I haven’t looked back since.

I decided to play volleyball for higher education when I graduated from elementary to high school and I was pretty excited until I found out that men’s volleyball in high school is inexistent (in my school at least) so I had to play outside school and I entered a small league in our town.  At age 12, I took the position of an open-hitter and excelled. I’ve learned so much about the sport and just wanted more. I’ve been to countless mini-leagues during my high school years, some ending in victory but others ending in complete failure.

I discovered that there is a huge event called ISC which stands for intercollegiate Sports Competition where in the biggest and most well-known schools participate and I was pretty excited until I found out that they do a men’s volleyball division so I was even more excited for that. As I was playing in one of our games in the mini-league during my last year of high school I spy a guy in green checking out the teams. He had hair that looked so husky and the color reminded me of salt and pepper. He has a weird feel to him matched with a creepy façade. He looked as if he’s in his 40s but I dismiss the idea of him being a homosexual pedophile and checking on little high school boys to bring home for “dinner” and just focused on the game.

We won the game 3 sets to none and I ended up scoring 27 points all in all. When everyone had gone home, I stayed to shoot some hoops just for fun and realized that the old person is still there. As I made my way to the bench, I saw the old dude looking at me with his rape-face on matched with a side-grin that will give you nightmares for a week. I have to admit, I was pretty scared for my dear virginity which I do not want to be taken by some old person. I moved to the side of the bench to try and avoid him only to see him approaching from my left. At that time, the only thing that was going through my head was a single phrase: “Holy s**t”.

That old person turned out to be one of the nicest I’ve ever met. At that time, never has the idea of him being my future coach entered my mind. Yes, he is the coach of the Green Fighters, the official sports team of the University of The Western Pacific and this old dude, who I thought was going to rape me (I’m serious), offered me a volleyball scholarship in such a prestigious college.

 

So today, I still play as an open-hitter. Although I’m technically a rookie, I have a feeling that coach will be using me a lot during the 36^th season of ISC. I’ve made a few good friends during the first week of school and training. We have our team captain and middle-hitter, Ash, who happens to be five inches taller than me (and I’m 6 feet and 2 inches). There’s also Kim, who I derogatorily call Kimmy, the rookie setter who shows great prowess and volleyball IQ. There’s Ike, another tall blocker and last but not the least, the 5 and a half foot tall, Jess, the tiny libero. I actually laughed at Jess because of the number of dives and digs he gets during our practices, if you didn’t know he was a libero, you’d think that he’s suicidal. I’ve made friends with almost all the 17 members of the squad. And there’s this other guy, coach’s son, Nicholas. He isn’t a volleyball player but he always attends out meetings and practices. He’s my batch mate and is taking the same course as I, Performing Arts. I know, I know; what the f**k right?

Anyway, since I got recruited by Coach Rey (yeap, that’s his name), I’ve tried my best to adjust to this fancy school. He also warned me about me being a student-athlete. I heard it’s a cliché for people who play and study. Apparently, it means that I am a student first before and athlete but to be honest with you, I’d rather practice in the gym all day long than sit in Basic Algebra class for 3 whole hours.

Because of the fact that I got personally recruited by the coach, I am officially part of the team but for those who aren’t as fortunate as I am, they have to try out for the team during the official try outs which are due tomorrow. As I sit on my bed in my dorm, I try to visualize how the tryouts will go. I’m still pretty shock that I got a scholarship just for being above average, skill wise, in volleyball. I’m still pretty stressed and fatigue as Coach battered us during the training. He may have a fatherly presence if you look past his pedophilic façade but inside the court, he acts like a spawn of the devil.

I wake up at around 2am in the morning with the sound of the alarm clock which I failed setting that night (why else would I wake up at 2am?). I feel so stupid because I’m the only soul awake at this hour. I decide to jog around as I can’t sleep anymore. The sounds around the campus at midnight scare me to death so I just jog and skip around like a dumbass near the dorm to avoid any “accidents”.  I finally finished jogging and I make my way to the room. The time on my iPhone registers at 4am, the sun is almost peeking out the horizon. The sweat from the jog I took trails down from my chocolate brown hair to the back of my ears to my neck. I wipe the sweat with my sleeves and I take a cold shower to complete the wake-up ritual.

I’ve grown quite a lot since I started playing; I’ve grown a lot taller and gained quite a lot of muscle.  My abs is looking pretty good. I guess I’m what you may call, in high school, hot. But because I play a sport that is apparently meant for girls (that’s bullshit), I’ve never had a girlfriend or been in any sort of intimate relationship, not that I care though. At the moment, I’m trying to focus on my athletic career and my studies. I go outside to look at the vague stars in the sky, they look really beautiful but they’re fading. I just hope that I won’t end up as a star in the brink of dawn, beautiful for a moment, but disappears and is forgotten by everyone for the rest of their existence (damn, that’s deep). I try my best to go into deep slumber in preparation for the tryouts tomorrow, but my mind keeps me awake. I can’t help but over-predict or visualize what will happen to me in the course of five years. I hope they will be five long years as I want to savor every second of my eligibility as a collegiate athlete.