Okay, so yesterday, I tried to get a good game of beach volleyball going at Malibu. Here’s how it went down.
Finding a Spot
First, I headed to the beach early, like around 9 AM. It’s always a scramble for the good spots, you know? I wanted a court that wasn’t too close to the water (those rogue waves, man) and also had decent sand.
I drove around for a bit, finally found a public court near Zuma Beach that looked promising. It wasn’t perfect, the net was a little saggy, but hey, it’s a free court.
Gathering the Troops
Next up, getting people to play. I texted a bunch of my friends, but you know how it is on a Saturday morning. Some were hungover, some had “brunch plans” (whatever that means), some were “just chilling”. Excuses, excuses.
Eventually, I managed to rope in three other guys: Mark, who’s pretty good; Sarah, who’s enthusiastic but a bit clumsy; and this random dude, John, who was just walking by and looked like he knew how to bump a ball.
The Game (or Lack Thereof)
So, we started playing. It was… interesting. Mark was doing his best, setting up some nice plays. Sarah was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, bless her heart. John, the random guy, turned out to be surprisingly decent. I, well, I was trying to keep up.
- The sun was blazing, which made it tough.
- The wind kept blowing the ball all over the place.
- At one point, a seagull tried to steal our water bottle. True story.
We played for maybe an hour, two games tops. It wasn’t exactly pro-level volleyball, more like organized chaos. But, you know what? It was still fun. We were laughing, getting some exercise, and enjoying the beach.
The Aftermath
Afterward, we all collapsed on the sand, sweaty and tired. We decided to grab some tacos from a nearby stand. Best decision ever.
So, yeah, that was my Malibu beach volleyball experience. Not exactly a highlight reel, but definitely a good time. I would probably do it again, even with all the craziness.
