A photo of Pete the cat

Pete's Toy Box: Volleyball

Wilson Sporting Goods Graffiti Volleyball- Pink/Blue/Yellow,1 Pack - OS,WTH46341B

By: WILSON

Pete's Expert Summary

My human, in their infinite and often misguided wisdom, has procured a large, garish sphere from the "Wilson" entity—a known purveyor of equipment for loud, sweaty human rituals. This "Graffiti Volleyball" is an assault on the senses, a chaotic swirl of pinks and blues that clashes terribly with my sophisticated grey-and-white coat. Its "official size" suggests it's not a toy for a being of refined stature, but rather a piece of mobile furniture. While its promised "enhanced durability" and "extended air retention" present a certain challenge to my formidable claws, the sheer effort required to make a single, satisfying puncture seems a dreadful waste of energy. It is, at best, a stationary object to be haughtily ignored, and at worst, a rolling menace that threatens the tranquility of my afternoon nap.

Key Features

  • OFFICIAL SIZE & WEIGHT: The size & weight used at the pro level, ideal for ages 13 and up.
  • GRAFITTI DESIGN: An artistic graffiti design is inspired by iconic beach volleyball locations and lifestyle.
  • ENHANCED DURABILITY: 18-Panel, machine-sewn construction for durability that lasts for hours upon hours of play.
  • EXTENDED AIR RETENTION: Butyl rubber bladder keeps the ball inflated for longer, reducing the need to re-inflate.
  • RECREATIONAL PLAY: An exciting design and great durability make this the perfect ball for playing in the backyard, park, or beach.

A Tale from Pete the Cat

It arrived not in a box, but held awkwardly in the crook of the human's arm, a captured planetoid of questionable taste. My first instinct was to treat it with the contempt it deserved. It was large, loud, and sat in the middle of *my* living room floor, a blatant violation of aesthetic and territorial law. I watched from the arm of the sofa, my tail giving a slow, judgmental thump-thump-thump against the upholstery. This was a "Wilson," a brand I associated with the grunting and pointless flailing the human sometimes watched on the glowing rectangle. This orb was clearly an accomplice to such undignified behavior. For a day, I conducted a campaign of psychological warfare, refusing to acknowledge its existence. I would pointedly walk around it, sometimes taking the longest possible route, to show how little it mattered. But the thing was... persistent. Its bright, "graffiti" patterns seemed to watch me, a silent, swirling challenge. One evening, as a sliver of moonlight hit its surface, I saw a distorted reflection of myself—a warped, magnificent predator. A thought, cold and clear, entered my mind: this was not an object to be ignored, but a test of my very essence. It was a silent, unmoving rival, and I had to understand its weakness. My approach was cautious, a low crawl with my white-tuxedoed belly brushing the rug. I reached out a single, tentative paw, claws sheathed. I nudged it. It responded with a deep, resonant *boomp* and rolled a few inches away. Intriguing. The "butyl rubber bladder" the human had mentioned must be the source of this resonant soul. I nudged it again, harder. It rolled further, its movement smooth and inexorable. This was not a simple mouse or a feather wand. This thing had weight, a presence. I circled it, sniffing at the "18-panel, machine-sewn" seams, searching for a flaw, a point of entry. There was none. It was a fortress. Finally, I sat back on my haunches. The orb simply sat there, a vibrant and unassailable fact in the middle of my room. It offered no thrill of the chase, no satisfying rustle, no flutter of defeat. It could not be disemboweled, nor could it be intimidated. It was, I concluded, the perfect metaphor for the human world itself: large, nonsensical, and fundamentally boring. My verdict was clear. This Wilson sphere was unworthy of my attention, not because it was formidable, but because it was a profound waste of a good stalk. I turned my back, leaped gracefully onto my favorite velvet cushion, and left the orb to its silent, pointless vigil in the dark. Some battles are won by simply refusing to fight.
Image of Wilson Sporting Goods Graffiti Volleyball- Pink/Blue/Yellow,1 Pack - OS,WTH46341B View Details

Mikasa VX20 Beach Classic Volleyball White, Official Size, Synthetic Material, 3 Color Panel Design, Affordable Price

By: Mikasa

Pete's Expert Summary

So, my human, in a fit of what I can only assume was profound delusion, has presented me with this... orb. It bears the mark of "Mikasa," a name I've heard shouted during those tedious televised human-bouncing festivals. This is, apparently, their "Beach Classic" model, which means it’s designed for sand and sun, two things I actively avoid unless they are contained within a strategically placed litter box or a warm sunbeam on the Persian rug. Its primary features are its colossal size—far too large for a satisfying bap-and-chase—and its bold blue, yellow, and white panels, which I suppose are meant to be visually stimulating. I see its potential not as a toy to be pursued, but as a stationary, modern art piece to be judged. It arrived in a flaccid, pathetic state, requiring my human to perform a strange ritual with a hissing pump, an effort that was mildly amusing but ultimately delays the far more important business of my afternoon nap.

Key Features

  • Official size and weight beach volleyball
  • Affordable relative to Mikasa's FIVB World Tour and Athens Olympic beach ball
  • Three color panel design (blue/yellow/white) helps identify ball movement
  • For optimal performance, additional inflation may be required. Ball pump not included.

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The thing arrived limp and folded, a sad vinyl puddle on the living room floor. It smelled sterile, a scent I associate with the annual indignity of a vet visit. The Staff, my human, then produced a long, thin object and began a series of frantic, undignified pumping motions. A slow, asthmatic hiss filled the air, and the puddle began to swell. It grew, and grew, its blue and yellow and white panels stretching taut until it stood before me: a silent, monolithic sphere, impossibly large and perfectly smooth. It was an insult. A challenge. Did they expect me to *chase* this behemoth? The sheer audacity. I gave it a cursory sniff and stalked away, my tail held high in disapproval. For hours, it just sat there, occupying a prime patch of sunlit floor. An immovable, colorful moon that had crashed into my territory. I watched it from the arm of the sofa, my eyes narrowed. It did not skitter. It did not flutter. When I finally deigned to approach and give it a test-pat with a single, unsheathed claw, my paw simply bounced off its unyielding surface. It offered no satisfying resistance, no playful retreat. A failure. A complete and utter waste of perfectly good vinyl. I retired to my velvet cushion for a sulk, leaving the orb to its silent, pointless existence. It was late in the afternoon when the epiphany struck. The sun, now low in the sky, streamed through the window, bathing the top of the sphere in a perfect circle of warmth. I observed it from my new vantage point. The curve… it was not a flaw. It was an invitation. Its size… not an obstacle, but an opportunity. This was not a toy for chasing. My human, in their simple, bipedal mind, had misunderstood its true purpose entirely. This was a throne. With the calculated grace only a feline of my breeding can possess, I took a running leap. I landed atop the orb, my claws finding just enough purchase to steady the slight wobble. And then, I settled. The synthetic material, warmed by the sun, was surprisingly pleasant against my tuxedoed belly. The gentle curve cradled my form perfectly. From this new, elevated perch, I could survey my entire kingdom. The Staff looked up from their glowing rectangle, their face a mask of surprise that quickly melted into adoration. Of course. They were finally seeing what I saw. This Mikasa object wasn't a toy; it was a pedestal, a modern throne for a modern monarch. It was, I decided with a deep and resonant purr, acceptable. Barely.
Image of Mikasa VX20 Beach Classic Volleyball White, Official Size, Synthetic Material, 3 Color Panel Design, Affordable Price View Details

Molten VBU12 Light Volleyball, Aqua/Black/White, 12 & under

By: Molten

Pete's Expert Summary

My human has presented me with this large, spherical object from a brand called 'Molten,' which sounds suitably dramatic for an item entering my personal space. It is, apparently, a 'light volleyball' for small, uncoordinated humans. This 'light' aspect is the key feature, suggesting I might be able to propel it with a single, well-placed swat without exerting myself. The most promising detail is its 'soft micro-fiber composite cover,' a phrase that hints at a delightfully plush texture for my paws and face, a significant upgrade from the tacky rubber of lesser orbs. Its size is admittedly a bit much, and the fact that it arrived deflated and required artificial respiration via a pump seems inefficient. Still, its potential as a slow-rolling, pleasantly textured adversary for a dramatic, mid-afternoon pounce session is... considerable.

Key Features

  • Ideal for players 12 and under
  • Official Volleyball USA Volleyball
  • USYVL Approved
  • Soft micro-fiber composite cover
  • For optimal performance, additional inflation may be required. Ball pump not included.

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The case landed on my desk—or rather, was unceremoniously dropped on the living room rug—on a Tuesday. It was a sphere of unusual colors, a swirl of aqua and stark white bisected by a slash of noir-ish black. The perp called it a 'Molten Volleyball.' A high-class name for a low-stakes game. My human, the client, seemed to think it was a toy. I knew better. In my line of work, you learn that nothing is ever just a 'toy.' I circled the suspect, my gray tuxedo immaculate against the hardwood floor. It was big, but a preliminary nudge with my nose told me the truth: it was a lightweight. All bluff, no muscle. My investigation deepened. I needed to get a feel for this new player in my territory. I extended a single, perfect claw—my preferred lockpick—and made contact. The surface, a 'micro-fiber composite,' was unexpectedly soft, like the belly of a particularly foolish field mouse. It had a pleasing give, not the hostile rigidity of a lesser sphere. I saw the valve, the tiny secret mouth where the air had been forced in, a confession of its own artificial life. This wasn't some back-alley stray; this was a professional job, a 'USA Volleyball' official. It carried itself with an air of quiet confidence. The final test required a more dynamic approach. I backed up, my tail twitching like a metronome counting down to chaos. With a burst of speed, I launched myself, a silent, furry missile. The impact was... sublime. The ball absorbed my attack, wobbling with a deep, resonant *thump* before beginning a slow, majestic roll across the room. It didn't skitter away in fear; it moved with the grace of a defeated giant. The hypnotic swirl of aqua and white was mesmerizing as it turned. I watched it come to a rest against the leg of the sofa. It wasn't an adversary. It was a statement piece. It was a challenge, yes, but a respectable one. A worthy sparring partner for an intelligent cat of my stature. I sauntered over and laid my head against its soft flank, the cool composite a welcome companion. Case closed. The Molten ball wasn't just a toy; it was an invitation to a more sophisticated kind of play. It could stay. For now.
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Volleyball Coin, Christian Sports Coin for Young Athletes, for Boys & Girls, Gift for Player or Team, I Can Do All Things Through Christ, Antique Gold Plated Challenge Coin, Philippians 4:13

By: LOGOS COINS

Pete's Expert Summary

My human seems to have acquired a small, metallic disc, allegedly as some sort of offering. It’s called a "Volleyball Coin," which is a misnomer as it is neither a volleyball nor a form of currency I can use to purchase more salmon. It is, from what I can gather, a shiny piece of metal meant to make clumsy young humans feel better about chasing a ball. While it lacks the fundamental qualities of a proper toy—no feathers, no catnip pouch, no tantalizing string—its "antique gold plated" finish does catch the sun in a rather pleasing way. It is small, flat, and likely possesses excellent skittering properties on the hardwood floors. It might provide a minute or two of distraction between naps, but honestly, its primary purpose seems to be reminding humans of things they've already been told, which sounds dreadfully inefficient.

Key Features

  • HIGH QUALITY SPORTS CHALLENGE COIN: This sports coin is meant to be given to a son or daughter competing in volleyball. Remind a child or young person that through Christ, all things are possible.
  • CHRISTIAN COIN WITH BIBLE VERSE: On the front is a volleyball player, with text, "I can do all things through Christ... Philippians 4:13" / "Volleyball". On the back is a volleyball, with text, "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. Philippians 4:13". Size: 1.25"
  • MEMENTO MEDAL FOR THE WHOLE TEAM: Give one to your children, or buy them in bulk to pass them out to the whole team. An uplifting sports token in victory or defeat, help someone remember that Christ is always their ally.
  • ENCOURAGING PASS ALONG TOKEN FOR ATHLETICS: This high-detail pass along challenge coin is a great tool of appreciation or encouragement to all players of the team. Hand them out to help bolster team morale.
  • UPLIFTING HANDOUT FOR YOUNG ATHLETES: This challenge coin serves as a reminder that we can always be improving. Whether we win or lose, there is always a lesson to be learned to help us continually improve.

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The object appeared without fanfare, placed by the human on the low-slung altar they call a "coffee table." It lay there, a glinting gold eye in the afternoon sun, watching me. I watched it back from my post on the velvet armchair, my tail executing a slow, deliberate series of inquiries against the cushion. It was not food. It did not smell of bird or mouse. It was an enigma, a silent challenge laid down in the heart of my territory. I accepted. I descended from my throne with liquid grace, my paws making no sound on the rug. The final few feet were across the gleaming expanse of the wood floor, where my reflection moved with me, a shadowy twin on a shared mission. I circled the table, observing the disc from all angles. On one side, a bizarre sigil: a two-legger frozen mid-leap, arm raised to swat a spotted orb. On the other, just the orb itself, covered in more of the human’s obsessive scribbles. The meaning was lost on me, but the intent was clear. This was a test of skill. My initial poke was gentle, a simple probe with a single, unsheathed claw. The disc didn't yield or squeak. It was stoic. Boring. I was about to dismiss it as another failed human gesture when I gave it a more decisive tap. The result was instantaneous and glorious. The coin shot away from my paw, zipping across the polished floor with a satisfying *shiiink*, spinning flashes of gold into the air. It was a captured sunbeam, a solid piece of light I could command. The game was afoot. This was not a toy for idle batting; it was an instrument for a master of physics. I became a scholar of its movement, learning how a sharp strike sent it careening in a straight line, while a softer, curved swat imparted a beguiling arc. The engravings of the leaping human became my target. I would send the coin sliding directly into the dusty region beneath the bookshelf, a shot of such precision the human would have to retrieve it for me on their hands and knees. It was a challenge, yes, but not for the human. It was my challenge to conquer. After several minutes of intense competition, I landed the perfect shot, sending the coin deep under the immovable entertainment center. There it would remain, a trophy of my victory, a silent, golden testament that I, Pete, can do all things, with or without an inscribed reminder.
Image of Volleyball Coin, Christian Sports Coin for Young Athletes, for Boys & Girls, Gift for Player or Team, I Can Do All Things Through Christ, Antique Gold Plated Challenge Coin, Philippians 4:13 View Details

Mikasa MGV500 Heavy Weight Volleyball (Official Size)

By: Mikasa

Pete's Expert Summary

My human has procured a Mikasa MGV500, a rather monolithic orb that purports to be a 'heavy weight volleyball'. Honestly, the sheer audacity of its size is almost insulting, clearly designed by giants with no consideration for the refined scale of a superior feline physique. Mikasa, I'm told, is a serious brand, so this isn't some flimsy plastic nonsense destined to be punctured and discarded in an afternoon. Its substantial nature might make it a formidable, if stationary, wrestling partner, or a satisfyingly solid object to bounce off of during a midnight zoomie. However, its 'playability' seems entirely dependent on the clumsy ministrations of a two-legger, and the fact that it arrived flaccid and in need of 'inflation' speaks volumes about its lack of immediate gratification. A potential throne, perhaps, but a waste of my predatory prowess.

Key Features

  • For optimal performance, additional inflation may be required. Ball pump not included.

A Tale from Pete the Cat

It arrived in a box, a sad, folded husk of a thing. My human, with a series of grunts and the wheezing of a strange metal probe, breathed a sort of false life into it. The sphere grew, its blue and yellow panels stretching taut until it became an imposing, unblinking presence in my living room. It did not rattle. It did not crinkle. It simply sat there, a silent, blue-and-yellow moon that had crashed in my domain, smelling faintly of synthetic leather and human effort. I circled it, my gray tuxedo immaculate, my tail giving a slow, judgmental sweep. This was not a toy; it was an invader. My first test was a simple, unsheathed claw-tap. I expected a satisfying give, a cheap plastic rattle that would signal its inferiority. Instead, my claw skittered off the taut surface with a dull, resonant *thump* that vibrated up my leg. The sphere barely budged. I tried again, a more vigorous swat, putting the full weight of my pampered nine pounds behind it. It rolled, but with a gravitas, a heavy, deliberate momentum that was more geologic than playful. It was clear this object would not be batted under the sofa. It would not submit. This was not prey. This was territory. Days passed. The orb became a fixture, a silent rival for the sunbeam patch by the window. I watched the human occasionally heave it about with surprising inelegance. Then, one evening, inspiration struck. Direct assault was futile. Therefore, a siege was in order. Or rather, an ascent. I waited for my human to foolishly place it near the ottoman—my base camp. From there, it was a leap of faith, a scramble for purchase on the smooth, unforgiving slopes of 'Mikasa'. My soft paws found little grip, but my determination was absolute. With a final, undignified scrabble, I pulled my handsome frame onto its northern pole. The world looked different from the apex of the Big Dumb Ball. I could see the dust bunnies under the credenza, the forgotten feather wand, the entire layout of my kingdom. I was taller. I was triumphant. I began to purr, a low rumble that seemed to harmonize with the deep thrum of the sphere itself. It is utterly useless as a toy. It provides no chase, no thrill of the hunt. But as a mobile throne, a challenging piece of feline parkour equipment, and a monument to my own supremacy? For that, the Mikasa has earned its place. For now.
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Wahu 100% Waterproof All-Purpose Mini Pool Ball for Beach, Soccer, and More, 6.5" Round Water Ball for Beach and Pool Sports Games, Blue

By: WAHU

Pete's Expert Summary

My Human, in their infinite and often misguided wisdom, has procured a "Wahu Mini Pool Ball." The name itself, a nonsensical exclamation, is an immediate red flag. It is a sphere of an unnervingly bright blue, allegedly designed for aquatic frolicking by juvenile humans. Its primary features—a waterproof neoprene skin and a butyl air-filled bladder—are entirely lost on me, as I consider submersion in water a fate worse than a missed meal. While its 6.5-inch diameter makes it a potentially bat-able size, its entire existence is predicated on outdoor, water-based activities, making it fundamentally useless within my climate-controlled domain. It seems destined to be an immobile, dust-gathering obstacle, a monument to my Human's poor understanding of what constitutes genuine entertainment.

Key Features

  • ALL-PURPOSE MINI WATER BALL: Makes it easy to engage in a variety of exciting ball games with your friends and family such as basketball, volleyball, kickball, water polo, soccer, and more
  • VERSATILE OUTDOOR FUN: Elevates all your outdoor adventures, whether you're spending time at the pool, beach, lake, park, or just enjoying some outdoor time in your backyard
  • 100% WATERPROOF SKIN: Protected by durable, 100% waterproof neoprene skin to withstand all weather conditions so you can enjoy years of thrilling outdoor sports games
  • HIGH-PERFORMANCE DESIGN: Butyl air-filled bladder provides high-performance and versatility while the neoprene skin doesn't absorb any water, so you can say goodbye to those bulky, waterlogged balls
  • SMALL SIZE FOR SPORTS GAMES: All-purpose sports ball has a 6.5" (16.5 cm.) diameter for an ideal size for so many outdoor ball games, and it's recommended for ages 5+

A Tale from Pete the Cat

It appeared without ceremony, a perfect, azure orb placed in the center of my sunning spot. The Human called it a "ball," a term they apply to a baffling range of spherical objects. This one, however, was different. It didn't have the satisfying fuzz of a tennis ball or the enticing jingle of its lesser brethren. It sat there, smooth and silent, smelling faintly of the factory it escaped and the sterile promise of a swimming pool. I approached it not as a plaything, but as an anomaly, a celestial body that had fallen into my living room galaxy. My initial investigation was cautious. I extended a single, impeccably groomed paw and made contact. The surface was strange—a cool, yielding skin that felt utterly alien under my pads. Not fur, not fabric, not plastic. Neoprene. I pressed slightly, and it gave with a silent, rubbery sigh. I withdrew, circling it at a distance, my tail twitching with intellectual curiosity rather than predatory instinct. This was not prey. This was a puzzle. Its purpose was a mystery I, and only I, could unravel. My second test was more direct. A calculated strike, not a playful swat. I wanted to hear its voice. My paw connected with a solid, resonant *thump*, a sound far deeper and more serious than any toy I had previously interrogated. The orb shot across the hardwood, not tumbling erratically but rolling with a smooth, unwavering trajectory until it collided with the leg of the antique writing desk. The resulting *thwack* echoed in the quiet room. It then rebounded with perfect, predictable geometry, coming to a gentle rest near the base of the forbidden fiddle-leaf fig. It was not a toy. I see that now. The Human, in their simplicity, thinks of it as an object for a game. They are wrong. This blue sphere is a tool for the study of physics, a silent master of momentum and trajectory. It does not solicit frantic, undignified chasing. It invites calm, methodical experimentation. It is an instrument for a refined mind, allowing one to predict angles and contemplate the elegant laws of motion. It is worthy, not of play, but of study. I shall permit it to remain, as long as it continues to facilitate my scientific inquiries.
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WILSON AVP OPTX Replica Kaleidoscope - Official Size, White/Blue/Pink

By: WILSON

Pete's Expert Summary

My human, in a fit of what I can only assume is seasonal optimism, has procured a large, hollow sphere from the sporting-goods monolith, WILSON. This "AVP OPTX Replica Kaleidoscope" is, for all intents and purposes, a ball for volleyball, a pointless human activity involving sand and shouting. Its significant size renders it utterly useless for any respectable feline pastime; it cannot be batted under the sofa, carried triumphantly to the food bowl, or even moderately worried. The swirling blue and pink pattern is mildly interesting, a fleeting distraction for the eye, but ultimately, its only potential purpose in my world is as an inconveniently round and unstable napping surface. It is, in short, a monument to wasted space and human frivolity.

Key Features

  • Wilson AVP OPTX Replica Kaleidoscope - Official Size, White/Blue/Pink

A Tale from Pete the Cat

It did not arrive in a box. The human simply walked in, holding the thing under one arm like some strange, pale planetoid plucked from a cartoon cosmos. It was deposited in the center of the living room rug—my rug—where it sat, silent and expectant. I observed it from my post on the back of the sofa, tail twitching a slow, critical rhythm. The brand, WILSON, was a familiar rune, one I associated with the loud *thwack* of rackets and the panting exhaustion of my staff. This orb, however, was different. The swirling patterns of pink and blue on its white skin were not random; they were a deliberate, almost hypnotic design. This was not a toy. This was a message. I descended from my perch with the gravity the moment demanded, circling the object at a respectful distance. My keen senses detected the faint, sterile scent of plastic, a disappointing but not unexpected discovery. I extended a single, tentative paw, claws sheathed, and touched its surface. It was cool, smooth, and yielded slightly under the pressure. I was not playing; I was communing. The "Kaleidoscope" pattern, as the human called it, seemed to shift as I stared. I saw not colors, but possibilities. I saw a future where the red dot appeared not once, but twice in a single day. I saw a vision of a dropped piece of roasted chicken. This sphere, I realized, was an oracle. My communion was, of course, shattered by the oafish intervention of my human. "Wanna play, Pete?" he asked, his voice a dull thud in my silent sanctuary. He then committed the ultimate sacrilege: he picked up the Oracle and bounced it. The hollow, percussive *thump-thump-thump* echoed through the room, a vulgar noise that chased away the delicate visions. The magic was gone, replaced by the mundane reality of a rubber bladder filled with air. This was no mystical artifact; it was simply a loud, clumsy implement for a loud, clumsy game. I gave the ball one last look of profound disappointment, flicked my tail in disgust, and retired to the bedroom. Some prophecies are not worth pursuing.
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Franklin Sports Volleyball + Badminton Sets - Beach + Backyard Combo Complete Outdoor Lawn Game Set - Volleyball, Pump, Badminton Rackets, Birdies, Net + Poles Included

By: Franklin Sports

Pete's Expert Summary

My human has acquired a large, inconvenient bag full of sticks, string, and various disappointing spheres from a brand called "Franklin Sports." They call it a "combo set," which I believe is human-speak for "a collection of things designed to make a racket in my napping territory." The whole contraption involves erecting a flimsy barrier (a "net") in the yard, presumably to trap unsuspecting insects for my later amusement, though its true purpose seems to be encouraging loud shouting and frantic running. While the promise of "birdies" is intriguing, I suspect they are cheap plastic effigies, unworthy of a true hunter. The large, bouncy ball is an insult to my intelligence. Overall, it seems like a tremendous waste of energy that will primarily serve to disturb the peace, with the only silver lining being the potential for a new box... I mean, "carry case."

Key Features

  • COMBO SET: Play beach volleyball or badminton in the backyard or in the park; Whether you’re at a family barbecue or having a get-together with friends, this starter volleyball and badminton combo set is everything you need for outdoor fun.
  • EVERYTHING INCLUDED: This set includes (4) badminton rackets, (2) nylon birdies, (6) stakes and guy ropes, (1) volleyball, (1) ball pump and needle, and (1) convenient carry case to hold everything
  • EASY SETUP: The easy-to-assemble net system includes a 1" diameter steel pole that adjusts from 5’1" to 8' feet high so it’s a great set for all ages to enjoy; The net assembles to 20' x 1.5' so it's big enough for many players to play
  • PORTABLE: This set is designed for easy setup made to last season after season for grab-and-go fun
  • OUTDOOR FUN: This complete badminton and volleyball set lets you enjoy these classic sports nearly anywhere; Enjoy hours of fun and create memories that last a lifetime

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The affair began with the arrival of a long, black bag, dragged onto the lawn like a captured beast. My human, beaming with a pride wholly unearned, unzipped it. A cacophony of odors—sun-baked plastic, cheap metal, and synthetic desperation—assaulted my refined senses. From the bag’s dark interior, they produced an absurd collection of poles and a crumpled sheet of mesh. I watched from the safety of the porch steps, my tail a metronome of pure judgment, as they fumbled through the assembly of this "net." It was a pathetic structure, a high-strung fence clearly intended to divide the world into the boring side and the equally boring other side. Their ritual commenced. They produced flimsy racquets and began batting a small, wobbly object over the net. A "birdie," they chirped. An affront to all creatures of the sky. It moved with a clumsy, unnatural gait, a far cry from the elegant flutter of a real sparrow. While the humans were engrossed in their pointless volley, I saw my opportunity. I slinked across the patio, a gray shadow against the sun-dappled concrete, and began my inspection of the discarded equipment near the offensive bag. The garish volleyball held no interest, and the little pump was beneath my notice. But there, lying vulnerable in the grass, was a small cache of spare birdies. This was not a hunt; it was an interrogation. I nudged one with my nose. It smelled of a factory, not a nest. Its plastic cone was rigid, its synthetic "feathers" stiff. Yet, when a breeze caught it, they shivered with a flicker of life that sparked a flicker of ancient instinct within me. With the humans distracted by a particularly clumsy lunge, I moved. My pounce was silent, economical. I seized a birdie in my mouth—the texture was all wrong, a sterile plastic where warm feathers should be—and retreated to my throne beneath the hosta leaves. I did not play with the thing. I executed it. A few swift bats of the paw sent it skittering. A discerning chew confirmed its hollowness. This was not a prize; it was a message. When the humans finally collapsed in their sweaty exhaustion, I emerged and deposited the mangled corpse of the birdie on the doormat. Let them see it. This entire Franklin Sports production was a noisy, foolish spectacle. It offers nothing for a sophisticated creature such as myself, save for the fleeting, hollow satisfaction of dismantling a single, poorly-made component. They can have their game; I have my dignity. And a much-needed nap to recover from the ordeal.
Image of Franklin Sports Volleyball + Badminton Sets - Beach + Backyard Combo Complete Outdoor Lawn Game Set - Volleyball, Pump, Badminton Rackets, Birdies, Net + Poles Included View Details

Botabee Swimming Pool Water Volleyball with Soft Cover - Pool Toys and Accessories, Lake Toys, Beach Toy for Teens - Regulation Size 26.5” Waterproof Beach Ball, Reduced-Sting Cover

By: Botabee

Pete's Expert Summary

My Human, in their infinite and often misguided wisdom, has procured a "Botabee Swimming Pool Water Volleyball." From what I can gather, it is a gargantuan orb, designed to be slapped about by oversized primates in that vast, wet basin in the backyard they so adore. The alleged "soft cover" and "reduced-sting" features are clearly concessions to their own pathetic fragility. While the sheer scale of the thing is an affront to my finely tuned predatory instincts, I cannot deny a certain curiosity. It's waterproof, which is a start, and its regulation size suggests a certain structural integrity. It could be a magnificent, if slightly damp, mobile throne, or it could just be another loud, splashy distraction from my afternoon sunbeam. The jury is out.

Key Features

  • Ultimate Water Game Fun: Enjoy hours of pool activities with our waterproof volleyball, designed specifically for pool fun and water games for lake adventures. No more waterlogged balls ruining your playtime!
  • Comfort and Durability: Our beach ball features a cushioned, soft-touch cover that reduces sting and impact, making it perfect for all ages. It’s ideal for beach toys for teens and adds to your pool accessories
  • Regulation Size: Experience a standard-sized pool volleyball with an 8.4" diameter (26.5" circumference), perfect for any game. This ball offers the authentic feel of pool toys while being gentle on the skin
  • Versatile Pool Companion: Whether you’re using it with pool volleyball sets like Intex, Dunnrite, or Swimways, our volleyball enhances your water sports experience. It’s also great as a fun lake toy for families
  • Quality and Longevity: Built to withstand the elements, this waterproof beach ball is made for long-lasting use in pools, lakes, and beaches. Elevate your outdoor pool fun with a ball that’s both durable and versatile

A Tale from Pete the Cat

For weeks, my nemesis had been a gray squirrel of unusual audacity. This particular rodent, whom I’d privately named General Squeakington, had taken to performing elaborate taunts from the low-hanging branches of the great oak, just beyond the reach of my most ambitious leaps. He would chatter, flick his tail, and drop acorn fragments onto the patio, each one a tiny insult to my authority as ruler of this domain. I, Pete, master of the sunbeam and conqueror of the couch, was being mocked by a tree-dweller. It was intolerable. Then came the sphere. One sweltering afternoon, during the humans’ ritualistic splashing, the Botabee ball was launched from the pool by a particularly clumsy flail. It soared in a high arc and landed with a soft, unsatisfying *thump* on the lawn. It was large, garishly colored, and smelled of chlorine. An offense to the senses. I watched from the cool shade of the patio umbrella, unimpressed, as it rolled to a gentle stop not five feet from the base of General Squeakington’s oak tree fortress. The General, seeing the giant orb, descended to a lower branch to escalate his campaign of psychological warfare. He chittered, a sound like tiny gears grinding with malice. But as he did, a thought took root in my mind, a concept so devious, so brilliant, it could only have come from a superior intellect. This ball was not merely a toy. It was a tool. An instrument of siege warfare. I rose, stretched languidly for effect, and sauntered onto the grass. Ignoring the squirrel entirely, I approached the Botabee. I nudged it with my nose. The "soft cover" was indeed pliable, and the ball was surprisingly light for its size. With a few deliberate pushes, I began to roll it. Not toward the tree, but alongside it, positioning it perfectly to block the squirrel's preferred escape route along the top of the garden fence. The chittering stopped. The General was watching, his beady eyes wide with confusion. I was not attacking. I was reshaping the battlefield. The siege was a quiet masterpiece. The ball, a silent, unscalable wall, now stood between the General and his path to freedom. He was trapped on his vertical island. After a long, silent standoff where the only sound was the thumping of my own smug heart, he retreated, utterly defeated, high into the canopy. I gave the Botabee ball a slow blink of approval. It was not a plaything for batting, but an implement of tactical genius. Its quality had been tested not in some frivolous game, but in the crucible of suburban conflict. It was, I concluded, a most worthy acquisition.
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