This weekend David and I have been invited back to my old high school in Madison, S.D., for a very special volleyball game.Back in the early 1990s, when I was attending Lake Central High School in Madison, my volleyball team managed to take home the biggest trophy at the state volleyball tournament. I guess it has been 10 years since those "magical" moments, and our team is going to be recognized at a varsity home game.When I first received notice of this gathering, I did not intend to go. I moved to Texas the summer after I graduated and was pretty sure I didn’t need to be honored for an accomplishment I don’t really remember.However, in September when the H-BC football boys ventured back onto the field to be honored for their great victory, I saw the other side of such a ceremony.The recognition isn’t so much for the former players as it is for the current team and coaches. The H-BC championship of 1991 gave the Patriots of today hope that they could be great, too. Plus, I saw the look in David Deragisch’s eyes when he spoke about seeing his players.He loved the weekend. It brought back sweet memories of his career before he became an administrator at H-BC. It was obvious that he enjoyed seeing his old players and their families.The next week, I called my old coach and said that she could put my name on the list of players who would be in attendance.Now that the weekend has arrived and I have seen a schedule of the evening, I am nervous all over again. I am nervous for two primary reasons and about 2,000 secondary reasons.First, of the nine girls committed to showing up on Friday, I have only "run" into two of them during the past 10 years. Making matters worse, all nine of us are married. So there will be a bunch of men, potentially men I went to school with, running around the gym.It is going to be hard enough to recognize these women after 10 years, but I will also need to recall random boys from high school. Argh! I am not sure I will be able to pull it off without a few mistakes.Secondly, and perhaps the most tragic, is that I don’t remember much about my team’s bid for the championship.I recall that we won, and that win led to a big celebration when we returned to town. In addition, I know that I have a hooded rain jacket somewhere making the claim of our victory and a box of cereal with our team photo on the front. So I know we won, I just don’t remember the events leading to the win.Over the past week, I have quizzed many of my family members to see if they could shed any light on the week they must have spent watching me run around a volleyball court.My younger brother, who was about 13 at the time, remembers, "running around with Ebsen the whole time." He didn’t jog too many memories, although he was able to recall more teammates than I was — a pathetic fact, since I spent hours with these women. Most were also on my basketball, track and softball teams, yet I am having so much trouble recalling their personalities and attitudes.My mother remembered the name of the band that was playing while we warmed up for the championship game and that I had played well. From the tone and surprise in her voice when she told me the story, it would seem I hadn’t played well most of the season.My father just seemed stuck on the idea that it had been 10 years; it seems his details had become fogged with time, too.I finally remembered that our team hadn’t been very good during the regular season. In fact, I think the team had planned a semi-organized strike on the bus following a poor out-of-town performance.Somehow, we managed to get into the state tournament. I know we were at the bottom of the list of teams. We were not expected to win — not even one game.I guess it was a Cinderella story. The news coverage turned to us before the championship game. Beyond that I have no idea who we played in any of the games, I don’t know if they were close scores, I can’t think of how we celebrated after the win – nothing. My mind brings back a big blank when I ask it for a memory.Normally and for most events (especially big events), my memory is expansive. I can recall conversations from both graduation days, I vividly remember the birth of my younger brothers and nephew, I even know how and whom I played in the state basketball tournament the same year the volleyball team won.I am embarrassed by this block in my memory and my absence from the life of my teammates. They are all married, and I don’t have any idea when they got hitched or to whom.I am sure I will survive the "reunion" without being forced to bring up memories of my own.Story ideas or comments can be emailed to Lexi Moore at lexim@star-herald.com or called in at 962-3561.
