Dear volleyball: I have notes

I'm trying to learn volleyball. Really, I am. 

I have, as of the writing of this newsletter, experienced 3.5 "seasons" as a parental spectator (1 rec, 1 school, 1 regional club, and 0.5 national club— that's the one we're in now, hence the "0.5.").

So far this season we've played in Atlanta, Rock Hill, Orlando, and... MINNEAPOLIS. IN MARCH. My middle school player has already declared she "probably" doesn't want to play in college, so this globe-trotting endeavor is just a very expensive way to see the country via convention centers and the lobby of every Hilton Garden Inn known to man.

At least it makes for good social media content:

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But I digress...

In this short but varied volleyball experience so far, I have, in fact, picked up on a few things:

1. Rotations are important. 

Like... it will take the coaches and referees upwards of 15 minutes sometimes to figure out what happened with the rotation mistake before they let them play again, important. The rotation will not make sense to anyone not on the court, so stop trying to figure it out, you noob. 

Also, before you can rotate into the game, you have to stand face-to-face with your teammate and make arm contact from your palm down to your forearm. This part is important. But not so important that you can't giggle when you do it. These are girls' sports, people. There must be giggles. 

Speaking of giggles...

2. There is a cheer and corresponding dance after EVERY POINT. 

This is probably the part that makes me most sad at having missed the volleyball train as an athlete myself.

In softball, we had cheers, but not dances that went with them... and I LIVE for the dances that go with them. 

There's the "scuba" that comes after an ace (point on a serve, duh), the "roooooof" chant after a block at the net, the one where they spell out "side-out" to the tune of... well... some song that seems to have the perfect rhythm for that. I don't make up the choreo rules, people, I just follow them.

Also, I now know what a "side out" is. I'm telling you I'm practically ready to be one of the refs who gets to climb up those fancy volleyball ladders that pull up from the floor and suspend you over your volleyball queendom. 

WHERE DO I SIGN UP, AND WHERE IS MY WHISTLE?!

3. CEOs may be tall (please tell me you're familiar with that research), but volleyball players are taller. 

Our 12-year-old daughter is a solid 5'10", and she is the THIRD TALLEST on her team (of other 12-year-olds!). One of the MOMS is TWO INCHES taller than JAKE (hair wall included). You guys, it's bonkers.

Walking around these tournaments as a 6'0" tall woman, I am dead average. It's glorious. And also kind of demoralizing. Where are these humans hiding in everyday life?!

Anywho... volleyball culture is a whole vibe, and I am HERE for it.

I'll tell you one other thing it's done: it's given me more and more content for this new "Athletic Communication" framework I've been working on. Remember that? I told you about it in last month's newsletter.

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It's the basis of my upcoming TEDx Talk, and I am SO PUMPED to share it with you all when it happens, and with companies to help them communicate better as teammates.

I'll share more next month, but for now, will you email me back here and tell me something from YOUR youth sporting adventures?!  Maybe your own. Maybe your offspring's.

What's the most ridiculously far place you've travelled for a tournament (and please tell me it was to play a team from your hometown- isn't that just the BEST?!)?

Why does the Libero wear a different uniform from everyone else?

Can ANYONE ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH actually see an "offsides" violation when it actually happens?!

Sorry. Old soccer trauma coming back to haunt me...

I'm cheering you on in your quest for connective communication AND nailing that jump serve.

Until next time,

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