We win the first set 25-15.
We lose the second set 23-25.
We win the third set 25-15.
We are down 19-22 in the fourth set, our whole season essentially on the line. We have to win in 4 in order to maintain our standing and points in conference.
By this time in the match, I have dove for more digs than in the past 3 years combined. I have the fresh battle wounds to prove it. Also legitimately knocked the wind out of my chest for the first time playing volleyball when I hit my rib cage so hard on the floor. Get up, find air somehow, and make a play. I came to win, like Nicki Minaj. Don't mess with me.
We edge back in, 20-22, 21-22, 22-22, then sideout. Another sideout puts us at 23-23, and it's my turn to serve, and...timeout, Gembloux.
I serve to #14 and, shank! Take that, ace time! 24-23.
Another serve to #14 and a "2" pass happens, a short rally follows until a miscommunication by them and a double contact call - YEA, WE WIN!!!
Hanging onto an undefeated status at 7-0 and loving every minute of it.
(Among the other activities of the day: apparently the mayor is gay, I spoke some English with a slightly drunk Belgian off-duty cop, the man sitting by me did not believe I weighed 140 pounds, and a shrimp avocado salad rocked my dinner. Great day.)