EVEN WHEN WE LOSE, WE WIN. THE AMAZING, TRUE STORY OF THE VOLLEYBALLERS.

Speaking volleyball truth to volleyball power

EVEN WHEN WE LOSE, WE WIN. THE AMAZING, TRUE STORY OF THE VOLLEYBALLERS.

Bow, London - Passion, rap, volleyball. On the international and Olympic level, there is only one team who stands out for the masterful interweaving of these three things. The Volleyballers. Undefeated, four years running, their love of sport and of winning as told through song. They sing their songs while they volleyball. They wear their accolades at every match, never encumbered by the huge, diamond studded championship rings worn on each of their fingers, 10 rings for 10 volleyball Superbowl’s. Never burdened by their real metal medals, all Olympic gold, swinging around their necks as they leap into the air and launch into furious athletic movements to secure win after win.

They are simply the best and the greatest. They came to volleyball, they came to rule them all. They won’t stop until they have to. They won’t stop until they can. Will they ever be defeated? Don’t count on it, for even when they come up short, The Volleyballers celebrate first place, always. This is part of The Volleyballers creed, they win, they lose, they still win. They rap, they make you feel it. Ten rings on ten fingers, they never panic, they never berate their own, they never shout their individual accomplishments, they remain anonymous and are known to each other only by the numbers on their matching uniforms. All defeated volleyball teams walk the Earth in stupor and malaise after suffering their vicious lyrical assaults, pummeled by line after line of scrupulously crafted verse, painstakingly chosen to intimidate their opponents as they bump, set and spike their way into the hallowed halls of volleyball greatness.

The Volleyballers operate with a brutal efficiency that leave all other volleyball teams in slack-jawed awe. Spectators, announcers, officials and sports reporters remain confounded. They remain assaulted, by volleyballs raining down on heads, by verses slung deftly into ears. They stay in the lines, they show up on time, matching uniforms, support and positivity. Purveyors of the infamous “Death Serve”, The Volleyballers smash ace after ace after ace, their front line a brick wall, unison choruses of “stuffed!” echo through rafters in gyms long condemned or demolished by The Volleyballers potent skills.

They came to Volleyball. They came to rule them all. Ten rings on ten fingers. The best you ever had.