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A Slice of Peter Mayhew - Episode 3 (new)

A Slice of Peter Mayhew - Episode 3 (new)

Beach Volleyball - Part 7

After going down 11-2 in the first set against Team Monster Hunter, Nuchi managed to sneak a few line shots past the opposing blockers. Ben’s serves were on point now, too. Instead of going for a power serve, he switched to one of precision, placing the ball directly in between the opposing players. With a pair of service aces and a pair of inbounds line shots, they pulled back within reach at 11-6. The Pocket Passer’s mounting comeback pulled the small crowd back into the game and Nuchi heard Chelsea cheer his name when he scored yet another line shot past the tall, grizzly guy.

Ben served well again, his placement right between their opponents. The pretty man called for it and the big guy backed off, they were adapting to the serves. The ball rolled awkwardly off the receiving hands and flew high into the air, heading toward the left side of the net. Moving so fast he looked like nothing more than a huge pale blur across the sand, the grizzly guy whizzed past Nuchi and jumped.

Instead of passing the ball to his teammate for a spike, the guy just slammed the ball down with the bottom of his fist. Ben was there, airborne and hands raised to block, but the ball went through both hands as though they weren’t there and hit Ben on the top of the head. The ball went flying as Ben hit the sand face first. With immense concentration, Nuchi went after it.

If left untouched, the ball would come down out of bounds - ending their streak of 5 straight points - near the bench where Chelsea and Kiki were watching with rapt attention. Sprinting forward, Nuchi layed out in a dive and barely managed to get his hands under the ball before it touched the sand. He managed to send the ball back into play, but Ben was on hands and knees. The ball landed just to his right and the referee held up the red flag to indicate a point against. She blew the whistle for a medical timeout.

“Amazing save, Nuchi!” came the sweet sound of Chelsea’s voice from only a few feet away.

Nuchi turned to face her, smiling stupidly. “Close one,” he said, brushing sand from his sweaty face.

Back on the sand, Ben got to his feet. He looked disoriented, eyes struggling to focus. Nuchi had taken a volleyball or 10 to the head in the past, but nothing with as much force as the one that just dropped Ben like a sack of potatoes. He hoped his buddy didn’t have a concussion or something.

“You good, bro?” Nuchi asked, putting one hand on Ben’s back.

“Yeah,” Ben said after a moment. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Nuchi was not sure he believed Ben. But it was a two-on-two tournament and they were not allowed a backup or bench player. If Ben said he could play, Nuchi was going to play. If he couldn’t, they were out of the tournament.

***

“Did you punch it?” Peter asked, looking at Greg in wonder.

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“Sort of. Hammer-fisted it. We got the point, though. So I guess that’s not against the rules.”

“It isn’t,” Peter confirmed. “I’ve just never seen anyone hit it like that.”

Greg made a face and shrugged.

“You want to let them catch up before we lock in?” Peter asked. “Or do you think chubby-boy’s shined enough to attract the lady?”

Greg looked through the net at their opponents. After taking a shot like that to the head, Greg would be surprised if the man could continue playing at the same level - if at all. He considered for a moment before replying.

“Let’s put this one away,” he finally said. “That guy’s definitely got a concussion. Look at his eyes. Let’s just finish this.”

And finish it they did, locking down the four points remaining to secure a win with little effort. With half of their team concussed the Pocket Passers were unable to receive with consistency, their passing game was off, and every time the skinny one jumped he needed a moment to stabilize himself. Peter and Greg put away the first set on four straight volleys. After scoring the final point with a brilliant dump right over the net, Peter approached the referee on her high chair and Greg moved closer to listen in.

“Can we call this one a forfeit?” he asked, looking over at the opposition with concern. “He really shouldn’t be playing in his condition.”

The referee called the other team over. “Are you able to play another set?” she asked.

Chubby-boy looked to the skinny guy to answer, who looked back at his friend with a disappointed apology in his eyes.

“Sorry man,” he said, frowning. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“No worries, bro. Not your fault,” chubby-boy told him, patting his friend on the shoulder. He looked up at the official. “We’ll forfeit.”

“Great game you guys,” Peter told them, smiling sadly for their situation. “Sorry it turned out that way.”

“Thanks,” chubby-boy replied, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “You guys are ridiculous. Good luck in the quarterfinals.”

“Thanks!” Peter said, brightening at the compliment.

“Pocket Passers forfeit,” the referee called to the crowd. “Winner: Team Monster Hunter.”

The cheers were underwhelming. Which was no surprise considering most of the people watching this match appeared to be friends and family of the Pocket Passers. Peter led Greg to watch another ongoing match while they waited for their next game. They hydrated and Peter took Greg through some stretches every few minutes to ensure they stayed warm.

When they received word that their next match would begin soon, and on the far side of the beach, Greg followed Peter through the benches and towels set out everywhere for spectators. Waiting for them near the net were a pair of young ladies in matching red bikinis. They couldn’t have been older than 20 or 21, Greg didn’t think. They were both tall women, one standing a little taller than Peter at nearly two meters and the other only a centimeter or two shorter. Both were tanned, well-muscled, and looked very athletic.

“Girl Power versus Team Monster Hunter for the quarterfinal match will begin in 5 minutes,” the referee called, a different one from their last game. This game official was older, perhaps in his fifties, and had the tanned, leathery skin of someone who’d spent most of his life under the sun.

Greg and Peter took their side of the net, stepping out onto the sand and facing the staredown they were receiving from the Girl Power team. Greg rolled his eyes when Peter smiled brightly and waved at them. Though Peter assured him that the whole act was part of the mental games he played throughout the match, Greg would have preferred meeting a staredown with a staredown.

He was feeling significantly more confident with this simple sport after pulling off their first two wins, but these ladies had won their first two games as well. They weren’t likely to get an easy win. Still, Greg felt himself growing more excited as each second brought them closer to the start of the match.

“Alright,” Peter said, waving Greg over. They each put their hands on their knees, heads close together. “Let’s see if we’re capable of getting a win without injuring anybody this time.”