I’ve been playing volleyball with the same group of friends almost every Sunday afternoon for at least 15 years, maybe 20. Some of them have been playing together over 30 years. Children have grown up, become players and gone on to have their own children. (No grandchildren play — yet.)

We meet in a field in Los Lunas for 2 to 3 hours. Sometimes the play is vigorous. Sometimes we get on each others nerves. But, I’m sure it is the high point of most weeks for each of us.

Each game, we split into two teams somewhat randomly. As many games as the dozen of us have played, we’ve surely been through every combination several times.

Sometimes the scoring is quite lopsided, then sometimes it rights itself. Close games aren’t unusual. Every so often, one team catches the other in a tie close to the end. At that point, I often say, “how do you feel about a tie?” I’m sure I was being a smart-aleck the first time, but after years of proposing a tie only to be overridden by everyone else, I have come to think of it as my quest.

Sunday, the final game was a killer. We played 3-on-3, which is grueling. Each team moved ahead of the other in groups of 4 or 5 points, only to be caught and passed. It looked like my side would lose narrowly (and, honestly, I wouldn’t care or remember for long). I was serving when we caught up at 20-20 — it would take two more points for either side to win. I proposed a tie — no one took me seriously. I thought, “I can MAKE a tie.” I dropped the ball and walked off the court (probably a forfeit in “real” volleyball). The remaining players seemed poised to play on, with mild derision directed my way. I pulled my trump card: “When I’m dead, you’ll stop at a tie to honor me. Why not do it now, when I can appreciate it?”

For the one and only time in 30+ years, a game ended in a tie. As Chris noted, we may be the only 6 volleyball players ever to play to a tie. I’m very happy. mjh