So last Tuesday morning, I dragged my lazy butt outta bed thinking, “Man, it’s finally time to tackle that backyard volleyball court.” Been putting this off for weeks, but the wife kept side-eyeing that pile of maple planks gathering dust near the garage. Felt like digging my own grave, honestly.

The Wood Mess

Cracked open the boxes Amazon dropped off ages ago – these hard maple beastly boards, supposed to be top-shelf stuff. Realized real quick that assembly instructions? Pure hieroglyphics. Two stick figures pointing at blurry diagrams that might as well be spaghetti doodles. Sighed, grabbed my tape measure, and prayed.

Banging Things Together

Started slapping boards end-to-end on the dirt patch I cleared. Thought I was slick til the third board whacked my shin – turns out uneven ground makes for a wobbly nightmare. Grabbed a shovel, sweated buckets flattening dirt for an hour. Still ended up with gaps big enough to lose car keys in. Took everything apart, cussing louder than a sailor.

• Dug trenches with a dumb garden trowel ’cause my mini-level vanished
• Used bricks as hammers when the real one bounced under the porch
• Cut five planks too short trying to eyeball measurements (whoops)

The “Shock” Part Disaster

Figured out the “shock absorbing” magic came from these little rubber pucks. Looked like flattened hockey pucks smelling like burnt tires. Had to hammer them into slots underneath each plank. My palms were raw hamburger meat after three rows. Total finger crusher job. Half the pucks shot across the yard like bullets – spent another hour hunting them in the bushes.

Testing the “Bounce”

Finally threw a volleyball at that Frankenstein floor. First throw? Thudded like a dead fish. Heart sank. Second try? Same sad story. Almost cried until my kid hauled off and spiked it – ball went BOUNCE high enough to kiss the clouds. Felt that sweet give underfoot – kinda like walking on stiff sponge cake. Grinned like a madman covered in sawdust and dirt. Even the neighbor’s dog stopped barking to stare at the bounce.

Whole mess took three days longer than planned. Back feels like it got run over, and my toolbox is now haunted by missing sockets. But that satisfying thump when the ball hits? Makes every splinter worth it. Next project? Gonna build a bench to sit my sore butt down.