When I first started coaching club volleyball, I was always assigned with the team that had the worst players in the gym. Most of these girls were there because they didn’t make their school teams. I was told it was because I was a good motivator. (I totes agree)
At some point in the season, to keep their heads up, I would tell my Michael Jordan story (you know how he got cut from his team as a sophomore and went on to become, well, Michael Jordan.)
So here goes:
There once was a young, awkward, clueless little girl. Ok. It was me and I was in 7th grade, at volleyball tryouts. (See the pic below? Don’t laugh. Ok, laugh. Why did I post that pic again?) I’d played volleyball in 5th and 6th grade, so I had this one in the bag.
We go through all the drills and I’m about average among the other girls. Then we got to serving. I was a darn good underhand server. I don’t want to brag but I was the leading scorer in 6th grade “A” volleyball team with my bubble knee pads and crazy socks. Unfortunately, 7th grade was the “big leagues” and all the girls had learned to serve overhand in the past year.
At the end of the tryout, the coached retorted, “All girls who play volleyball this year must be able to serve overhand”
What!? I couldn’t serve overhand. I just assumed that was something they taught, you know, at volleyball practice! (btw, it was not common to play club volleyball until my high school years)
I crossed my fingers thinking I’d get the benefit of the doubt because I was friends with the coach’s daughter. Nope! Not in the “big leagues.” My name was not on the list for A or B teams. And I knew I was better than 5 or so of the girls who made it, but I did not have what they required, an overhand serve. I was humiliated. All my friends were on the team.
But, I always say the best way to motivate me is to tell me I can’t do something. Like Michael Jordan in his story, I. Was. Motivated.
I used the cement hole dug out for my neighbor’s basement as my personal gym. I climbed down there nearly every day and passed, set, hit and, mostly, served against that wall.
Tryouts came around again and I was not taking anything for granted, I knew I was prepared this time. I had something to prove. And, you know what, I made the team!
What did I learn?
1. How to motivate myself
2. How to be competitive
3. That I loved volleyball
4. Nothing’s ever in the bag
Sometimes I think, if I hadn’t been cut from the team, would I be such an awesome volleyball player today? Or have coached volleyball for 10 years? Or married another volleyball stud? Or had this awesome volleyball website? Maybe not, my friends, maybe not.
