So yeah, my volleyball court flooring finally bit the dust. That cheap laminate crap started warping worse than my grandma’s potato salad left in the sun. Figured oak would hold up better with all the jumping around.

First step was ripping out the old junk. Got my pry bar and hammer going WHAM WHAM WHAM for two whole afternoons. Dust everywhere – looked like a flour bomb went off in there. Should’ve worn a mask but nah, just hacked my lungs out like an idiot.

The Measuring Nightmare

Took the tape measure to the court space thinking “easy peasy”. HA! Nothing square in this old garage. Corners were all wonky like a drunk Picasso drawing. Took me three tries to cut the first board right. Wasted half a plank learning oak doesn’t forgive saw mistakes like pine does.

• Pro tip: Mark cuts with pencil THEN double-check before sawing
• Bigger pro tip: Don’t measure after three beers

Laying the Floor Boards

Started laying planks end-to-end like dominos. Got halfway done feeling smug until I stepped back. The pattern looked like a zipper with broken teeth! Turns out I’d mixed long and short boards randomly. Had to pull up twenty planks while cursing like a sailor with stubbed toes.

Started again by dry-fitting everything first. Took forever but saved headaches later. Used rubber spacers between boards this time for expansion gaps – those little buggers kept falling out whenever I blinked.

The Final Stretch

Last row was against the brick wall with pipes in the way. Had to notch around a drain pipe that looked like a metal octopus tentacle. My jigsaw nearly overheated chewing through that thick oak. Made a cut wonky as hell but whatever – it’s behind the water cooler anyways.

Final step was whacking everything with a mallet to seat it tight. Whole floor sounded like a drum solo from hell for twenty minutes. Sweat pouring down my face, hands shaking from caffeine overdose – you know how it goes.

Finished around midnight. Looks decent enough to play on now. Still got a thumbnail-sized dent where I dropped the mallet though. Guess it’s my signature mark. Would I do it again? Hell no – next time I’m paying someone else to suffer. But for now? Let’s spike some balls!