It is a place full of power. It is a place full of emotion. It is the place where it all begins and where it ends. Among the four grey walls the locker room, twenty-four girls gather for one reason. All day long the room will sit in silence, waiting for its purpose to be fulfilled.  Anyone can sit there and gaze upon the names of my fellow teammates; they can see the trophies mounted on a wall of achievement.

            Although the room is empty before practice, it will safely hold their sweaty gear and keeps out unwanted visitors. As soon as three in the afternoon comes around, the room comes alive.

            One by one they come in. It is usual to see smiling faces eager with stories to tell. They can hear the twist and clicks from the lockers being opened. There is the sound of gossip around school and the complaints about classes. It was odd to sit and listen to so many different conversations that seem to have no purpose except to entertain. They will find out that someone had a new crush and that someone is not thrilled to practice.

            Everyone puts on their gear in unison. First the socks, second the knee pads that wreak of sweat and hard work, third the ankle braces that save you from a broken foot, and last the all black Mizuno volleyball shoes. Everyone will make a stop at the mirror to fix a loose strand of hair, or wipe off any make up. Volleyball players don’t wear makeup.

            The locker room is a place away from anything but volleyball and the team. No coaches, no boys, no school. There is a taste of victory from the past and victories that are in the future. There is also the taste of defeat, a bitter taste with the texture of sandpaper.

            On occasion the locker room can be an unwelcoming place. After an awful game, nothing is more awkward and uncomfortable then going and sitting with twenty-four girls who just got yelled at and lost. It’s easy to feel the tension. Some girls will burn a hole in the ground because they refuse to look up. Tension doesn’t sound like anything because everyone is frozen with emotions. Losing a game is like pouring peroxide on a wound. No one wants to do it because it can be so painful; but in order for the wound to heal, or in order for a team to heal, you must deal with the pain.

            Even though a loss can make the locker room unwelcoming, a victory makes the locker room a never ending party. They all welcome another W into our record. This is when volleyball is fun. As they all rip off our gear and quickly shower the conversations are filled with life and energy. The smell of body wash and shampoo cover up their sweaty aroma.

            When they all leave the locker room; they close our lockers, grab their stuff, and turn off the lights. The locker room is quiet again. It all starts again the next day.