Volleyball
Last night I went to volleyball for the first time in a couple weeks. Last week we tried to play, but the high school threw a suprise orientation for its incoming seventh graders, and that took precendence over us. So instead, we held volleyball at the Abington Depot, an honest-to-goodness train depot turned sports bar. My friend DJ and I went around 7:30pm and didn’t get home until around 3:30am. This week, we’re much more sober and much more tired.
We played six-on-six. Most of the other players have kids in the eighth grades. Some have older ones, some younger. Sometimes the kids play with us. Anyway, we had a smashing good set of games last night. My team was weak to start: for some reason we couldn’t return a serve, or if we did, we lost the point. We did this about eight or nine times before coming back to win 15-12 or so. And we did this. THREE. TIMES. I usually work up a sweat just sitting in the passenger seat on the way there. But last night everyone was dripping and exhausted. And since DJ and I joined them at the Depot last week, everyone’s been a lot friendlier.
In several psych and sociology studies, people were asked to describe why they are friends with their friends. The friends in turn were asked to do the same. Almost everyone said that they like people who think the same way, or believe in the same things, etc. But when polled, it turned out that they had very little in common with their friends. Instead, the link was their activities. Having a common experience, not common beliefs is what binds. Anyway, the night at the Depot served as a social glue. Next week, I plan to go out with them again. This time I’ll come home a bit earlier, though.