Last week, LILA’s girls' volleyball team went to Las Vegas for  a tournament.  Here on the blog we have an eyewitness perspective provided by one of the players, as 11^th grade IB student Emily Siegler recounts the events.  The video at the end of the article was prepared by Coach Caroline Baccou.  I guess in this instance, what happens in Vegas did not stay in Vegas...

"Friday February 13^th 2009: yet another grey day in a week of seemingly unending rain in normally sunny Los Angeles, California. Eleven young girls and two coaches would wake up, entirely unfazed by the weather, and completely focused on the four days that lay ahead of them. Heading out their doors, each grabbed their bags, anxiously making their way to LILA, where after two excruciating hours, they would be able to start their journey. Two vans, one a deep burgundy and the other a desert sand colour, waited patiently for them in the gravel parking lot. Duffle bags and suitcases, full of socks and uniforms, sports drinks and protein-bars, iPods and schoolbooks, were piled into the trunks along side emergency medical kits and water bottles.

Time passed, the coaches found coffee and keys, the players found snacks and music for the road, and the delay seemed eternal. After having understandingly waited for their designated drivers, Coach Caroline for the red van and Coach Lacroix for the gold, the team could finally begin making its way towards Las Vegas, Nevada. They would all have to travel two hundred and seventy miles before they would arrive in Nevada where they would participate in the annual Las Vegas Invitational tournament.

And so the drive began; song after song paraded out of the van speakers while the girls chatted and laughed. The hours went by, though not nearly quickly enough, and as the girls in the back seats began drifting into a light slumber, the pilots and their copilots looked on, eyes always on the road. Sudden bursts of hail and snow, then of rain and rainbows served as the climactic backdrop to the drive through the desert. Stopping only twice for bathroom and coffee breaks at gas stations in towns exemplifying “rural living at its finest,” the team managed to reach the infamous Strip in a little under six hours. time.

Arrived at their hotel, the girls ran to the two rooms where six bunk beds, two kitchens, two closets and two bathrooms waited for them. After having established who slept where and who would take their shower when, they were all on the road again, this time on their way to check in for the tournament that would start the next day. This done, they made their way to the Luxor hotel where they would enjoy the Criss Angel show, Believe, directed by the Cirque du Soleil. Incredible dances and magic routines left them speechless and amazed. Afterwards, they headed back to their hotel and slept almost immediately, exhausted from the long day.

Morning came and before they could play, the team fueled up at a brunch in the Sahara hotel and casino.  Now prepared to play, they were off to the tournament where their first game would begin at 2:30 in the afternoon. Entering the gymnasium of North Las Vegas High School, the girls grew more and more anxious to see what the level of competition in the highest percentile of the gold division was really like. Dozens of other teams, hundreds of coaches, girls, and their parents filled the large gymnasium. Nerve-wrecked, but brave nonetheless, the team faced its first match against girls twice their height and triple their experience. This would not stop them, as their spirit never faltered and their support for one another only grew stronger as each game passed. Even though they did not win any games, their skill improved point by point, and their teamwork solidified play by play.

After three grueling games, they would have dinner in a quaint Thai restaurant next to the hotel, or “home” as it would come to seem. Exhausted but evermore excited for the next day’s games, the girls went to bed.

Again they woke, ready and hungry for the thrill that volleyball brought to each one of them. Again they played three games; they fell and fought until the end, gaining support from other teams such as Tulsa from Oklahoma. Bruised but not battered, they congratulated every victor, never once showing bad sportsmanship but only respect for those girls who lived and breathed the sport they all loved.

At Circus Circus, they would have dinner and recuperate for a bit. I say for a bit because afterwards they would visit almost the entire Strip, ergo they would walk for three hours straight. Contently, they skipped through the streets laughed at jokes only they understood (ah yes, the advantage of speaking French…) and lovingly teased each other. They joyously sang the Star Spangled Banner along with the fountains of the Bellagio and patriotically chanted the Marseilleise in front of Paris’s Eiffel Tower.

Coming “home” they all collapsed, thankful for their warm beds after having been caught in some rain on the last leg of the Strip. The last day of the tournament came, along with the sad thought of leaving. Clothes were neatly packed away while shoes, kneepads and uniforms lay ready to be proudly worn on the third and last day.  After having slightly panicked, as the room keys seemed to have disappeared only to reappear in a purse, the team sadly waved back to the two rooms where they had all lived together for three days. The last game came and went, but despite a seemingly sad ending, as the game was lost, the feeling of a beautiful beginning seemed to be dawning. A few battles were lost, but our war has not yet been won; our season is young still and our games to come are only endless possibilities. Our team is stronger than ever; twenty-two arms and legs stand ready to make countless points, eleven pairs of eyes and ears wait prepared to sharply protect every corner of the court, eleven mouths are ready to shout, cheer and support; all while one amazing coach gives the instructions, training our movements, harmoniously timing each play, giving us the tools so that we may conduct our own wonderful symphony. And although twelve hearts pump the blood and adrenaline through the veins of all the ladies on and off the court, they all beat as one: We are twelve young women but we are one team."