I want to tell you a story about the pinnacle of my athletic career.

It was my Grade Twelve year. It was volleyball season. We'd made it to provincials. This was a huge deal, since the Frontier Raiders rarely made it that far. However, this season we'd had a group of very competitive, talented players who'd fought hard to gain the glory of travelling to Saskatoon to play against Saskatchewan's best.

I was on this team of very competitive, talented players. And I was the best darn benchwarmer they had! Now, I'm not complaining about any of the coaches I'd had over the past six years. They taught me some very good skills, and I was actually not that bad of a player-- but I wasn't that good, either. I'm more of a rec team kind of person. So when push came to shove, and we wanted to make it farther than ever before, we just couldn't risk putting a rec teamer out there...especially one who still hadn't mastered the art of the overhand serve. Therefore, most of my last season was spent on the sidelines, chatting with my friends whenever they came off the court, cheering in my meek little voice, and checking out hot boys in the crowd.

When my team qualified for provincials, one of the coaches pulled me aside and asked if I'd like to come along as a stats keeper. I couldn't go on the roster as an official player since, as everyone knew, I wouldn't be setting foot on the floor anyway...but this way I could still be there to experience everything with my friends. I could also be a help to the coaches; they could focus on the game and not worry about jotting things down. I said yes. Free trip to Saskatoon? Two days away from school? Why not?

To my chagrin, the coaches announced the all-star lineup at practice the next day...and ended with a very special announcement that Kjersti would be coming along as stats keeper! My teammates broke out into applause like I'd just won a ribbon for twying weally hard in a kindergarten colouring contest.

But THEN...we inevitably had a pep rally. Classes were interrupted all over the school to come out and support our team. The lights were dimmed, the music was pumping, and hundreds of students were cheering as, one by one, my teammates were called to the stage. An aisle had formed down the middle of the gym. Hands waved out from each side, waiting to be slapped by each athlete who ran toward the stage with her name and position being proudly announced over the microphone.

I thought I was safe. I wasn't.

"...and, finally," our principal boomed, "Kjersti Friggstad...stats keeper!"

It was one of the most special moments of my life, running through a pepped-up, high-fiving student body with such a title being slapped on my forehead. When I picture it, I can almost see coke-bottle glasses on my face and a clipboard bouncing on the floor behind me, attached by a long string to my pocket protector.

But I kept a positive attitude about the whole thing. After all, I had an important job to do. So we got to Saskatoon, started in the tourny, and I kept as many stats as I could. The job actually appealed to my organized nature, so I was even enjoying it. And if I ever wasn't sure about a play or a call, I'd ask someone nearby for clarification. After every game, I handed my important paper to the coaches. It didn't take long to notice that they rarely even glanced at it.
"Oh well," I told myself. "They must look it over while they're conferring amongst themselves between games."

During a later game, I wasn't sure about a play that had just been made. I leaned into a coach to ask if I should jot it down. Her response? A disinterested, slightly irritated glance at my paper and the declaration: "It doesn't really matter anyway."

From that point on, I took about a quarter of the amount of stats as before. No one seemed to care. So much for all the pep...I guess I wasn't a super star stats keeper after all!

I did get something out of that whole experience, though...ummm...well, I probably did. I'll get back to you on that one.