One of the main reasons I love volleyball is that I’m able to vent my anger on the ball. Ever since my injuries dominate and especially the lack of practice after my operation back two years ago, there are not many glorious days for good games.
As much as the pain on my right shoulder sympathizes on me, I manage to at least get my servicing forceful and consistent.
Last evening wrote a complete different story. My mind was occupied with injustice throughout and the gasp of anger blocked my chest. It was not my sprained index finger’s fault but the urge to punish a law abuser who was left scot-free. I allowed my emotion to take full control and my servicing went rocketing out of the opponents’ court.
It was not all bad after all since I was much more vigilant than usual, neglecting all my pains. It was a pity that my noise could not really raise everyone’s spirit. It seemed quite dull at times but I did not stop trying.
Volleyball created miracle once again; after the games, I realised my mood had improved due to the diversion of attention.
That night, I took a little rest before changing my shirt at the hall and left straight away without smoking inside the toilet. The refusal to inhale the second-hand smoke was not for prolonging my own life, but to ensure that I had a healthier body for my remaining days.