[This Volleyblog Seattle report also appears in the September 28, 2011 print and online editions of our partner, The Seattle Times]
A little girl, not yet 7, clutched a pen and a program. Eyes
down, she took half-steps toward her target: a 6’6 volleyball star in an
oversized wheelchair, the athlete’s swollen left leg extended like a battering
ram. Finally, shyly, the girl lifted her eyes to ask Amanda Gil for an
autograph.
For Gil, a University of Washington middle blocker, the
moment was surreal. In little more than 48 hours, she had gone from crying in
pain to stifling a tear of joy. As her grandmother had just reassured her,
she’d already had her worst day ever; each day forward would be easier.
Amanda Gil understands mental anguish. She is a player who
can’t play, an athlete who waited impatiently for a return to the spotlight,
only to find the stage door bolted. By transferring to Washington after two
stellar seasons as the nation’s best blocker at UCLA, she knew she’d have to sit
out one season to comply with Pac-12 transfer rules. But she never imagined
sitting out again, forced to watch her beloved teammates from the discomfort of
a wheelchair.
 |
Washington middle blocker Amanda Gil, signing post-match autographs from a wheelchair at Hec Ed Pavilion
[Volleyblog Seattle photo by Leslie Hamann] |
After the 2010 Huskies fell one match short of a return to
the Final Four, Gil hit the weight room and practice court with gusto.
Throughout the spring and summer, she rehearsed Coach Jim McLaughlin’s precise
blocking system. Load.
Ball/Setter/Ball/Hitter. Press up and over. As one of the tallest and
strongest players in the Pac-12, she was ready to anchor what promised to be a
powerful front line.
As summer wore on, however, a chronic ache in her left knee
grew worse. The usual remedies—ice, elevation, compression, rest—offered only
fleeting relief.
“I have somewhat wide hips,” says Gil, “so the angle from my
left hip to my left knee grinds my leg bone against the knee’s cartilage. It
got to the point where it actually wore a hole in the cartilage.”
Just days before the first preseason practice, she got the
news: the hole would have to be repaired, and she’d have to miss her second
season in a row.
“I couldn’t believe it was happening,” Gil remembers. “It
was devastating.”
Her knee could only be repaired with donated cartilage. She
was told that several UW football players had waited months for a perfect donor
match, often from a cadaver or accident survivor.
