That’s my kind of town

ne of my embarrassing moments on a volleyball court occurred two years ago in a marvelous little town called La Grulla [lah-GREW-yah]. The crane. It was my third trip to that border community of about 200. Back in 1978, I had been assigned a basketball tournament at the junior high. Naturally, the school draws students from outside the town limits.

It was a small, loud gym. The fans were nice. The players were nice. Country kids almost always are. As I recall, my partner was just so, so. But, so was I. I’d been retired from round ball for nearly 20 years.

Continued...