Volleyball Academy

Farewell Transmission

AVERY 

Destin Beach Volleyball Academy

Miss Avery Patterson,

Congratulations! You have officially been accepted into Destin Beach Volleyball Academy! Your hard work and determination have paid off, and it is time to show your skills. You are among 80 other young men and women from all over the United States.

    Destin Beach Volleyball Academy prides itself in producing top-prodigy athletes, who usually go on to play at the collegiate level, and even the national level. Despite our name, this is not an academy for beach volleyball; this is a mainly indoor volleyball-training academy.   

Opening day is June 5. Since you are attending all summer, you are required to check in at 8 AM sharp where you will be given a dorm room, with 2 other roommates, a complete set of brand new Mizuno volleyball gear (including kneepads, shoes, ankle braces, and 10 different uniforms, complete with a top and spandex).

We are very excited you have the opportunity to attend this summer. This is going to be a great learning experience, while you will also have a lot of fun, make great friends and memories that will last a life time. We can’t wait to meet you!

Salutations,

Alexandria Johnson

George Bennett

Daniel Jeffries

Sierra Thomason,

          Directors of Destin Beach Volleyball Academy 

“Mom! Mom! I got my letter! I got in, Mom, I got in!!” I shouted down the winding staircase in my house.

“What, sweetheart?” Despite being almost 40 years old, and having four kids, my mom had never lost her figure. She was an all-star college volleyball player, and had continued to be a coach until she had my youngest brother. Her hair was dirty blonde with natural waves that looked as if she spent hours on them. Her face was completely wrinkled free; in fact it was free of everything. She had a natural sun kissed complexion, which didn’t require any makeup at all, something I loved having inherited from her.

“I got in to Destin Beach Volleyball Academy!” I shouted, waving the acceptance letter in my moms face. She grabbed it and pulled it close to her face, despite everything else being perfect, she had poor eyesight and hated wearing her contacts.

“Oh, honey! I’m so proud of you! Your dad is going to be so proud of you, show him this when he gets home from work!” My father was also a volleyball fanatic. He owned a club team in our hometown of Reading, Pennsylvania, which I play for, along with both of my sisters. He, like my mom, was a coach at the collegiate level, until he and my mother decided to start a family. When my older sister, Chelsea, showed an interest in the family sport, my dad decided to start his own team. Since he started it 10 years ago, it has grown into having 25 teams, ranging from ages 10 to 18, and being nationally recognized.

“What am I going to be proud of?” My dad surprised my mother and I as he hugged both of us. He usually was at the gym training people until 5 in the evening; he was nearly 4 hours early.

“Look, dad!” I handed him the letter.

“That’s my girl!” He spun me around in a bear hug. “I am so extremely proud of you, baby girl!”

“Are Chelsea and Daytona home yet, Mom? I want to show them too.” My sisters were two of my closest friends. Chelsea was only a year older than me, and Daytona was barely one year younger than me. Chelsea was 17, I was 16, and Daytona actually turned 15 just yesterday.