Yesterday marked the close of the 2017 Indiana Boys’ High School Volleyball Season. While my team officially finished our season a week earlier, some of us were involved in this past weekend’s activities. It is one of the few times a year that coaches and players from across the state are all together. It is good for the soul to be around so many people who share my love of the game and passion for growing the sport of boys volleyball. As the final awards were being presented to the state championship team, I found myself talking to a fellow coach and we started talking about our respective teams for next year. Then we both stopped, laughed…and agreed we should take a few days off between the end of the 2017 season and the beginning of the 2018 season. In truth, my official responsibilities for the 2017 season don’t end until early June – after Spring Sports Awards Night at the high school. Nonetheless, today seems like a good day to reflect on my experience as boys high school volleyball coach.
A mere 934 days ago, I was named the coach of the first boys volleyball team at my son’s high school. In three seasons, the program has grown from 13 boys on one team to 25 boys on two teams. The varsity team record has improved from 3-21 the first season to 22-9 in the third season. From a varsity perspective over three seasons, kills have risen from 256 to 826; digs have increased from 843 to 1628, serve attempts have gone from 1013 to 1957 and serve receptions from 747 to 1344. No matter how you look at it, the program has seen growth – lots of growth. But these numbers, as spectacular as they are, don’t begin to measure everything that I have experienced over the last 934 days.
Self-Doubt – yep, I’ve experienced some of that over the last three years, but never more than this year. Do I have what it takes to coach volleyball to high school boys? Is my “coach coat” thick enough to withstand the second-guessing I am getting from the “arm-chair coaches” who sometimes watch a match? Is my “mom cloak” tough enough to withstand the shortsightedness that some people have as it pertains to dealing with young people, each with their own learning styles, learning capacities and levels of motivation? I must remember that self-reflection and course corrections are healthy things to do as I grow and mature as a coach and a mom, however, it is unproductive to begin second-guessing myself in response to whispers, followed by deafening silence. I need to be strong enough and comfortable enough with myself, to remain true to my convictions and stay on the current course. The time and energy spent worrying and wondering about course correction, without clear evidence it is needed, is taking quality time away from the young people in my program as well as my family.
Sleep-deprivation – been there and done that. From the end of February through the middle of May, I get about 32 hours of sleep a week. That’s an average of under 5 hours a night – which wouldn’t be bad, if it was evenly distributed. Unfortunately, it is only 3 to 4 hours of sleep a night for several nights in a row and then catch up on Sunday. There is much to do during volleyball season, over and above time spent in the gym for practices and matches. My normal house-hold responsibilities take a back seat to volleyball as well. In season, I feel good when the bathrooms are clean, the laundry is done, the Green Bean order as been submitted and bills have been paid. Perhaps I can learn to delegate a few of the out of the gym responsibilities to others, both in the program and at home.
Helplessness – that moment when I have to let go and see what happens. Some of these moments define individuals, while others define a team. Have I provided the appropriate foundation? When is the right time to take the training wheels off and see how far they can ride, before they realize I am no longer holding on to the bike? A coach can only take a team so far, the rest is up to the team. There comes a time when the athletes simply have to “do” what they have learned. The time for practice is over, the time for questions is past, it is time for action and I pray that I have prepared my boys well for that time. In the end, I know that they have to be willing to give up a little bit of themselves, for the good of the team. They have to not only understand their teammates abilities, but they have to be willing to spend at least a little time seeing the game from their teammates perspectives. These helplessness moments happen again and again through-out a season, some are more telling than others. A few times this season, I let go and my boys soared, while other times, they sunk. One day in particular comes to mind, a day when we experienced both our best and our worst moments of this season. Unfortunately, we ended the day with the worst and I fear that is the only thing they remember from that day. As their coach, I know that it is impossible to eliminate all of the bad moments, but hopefully I can find a way to capitalize on the positive moments, so they are the ones that we remember.
Joyful Contentment – what I feel after I have taken the time to reflect on and evaluate my third season of a three-year program and determine that despite some set-backs, my kids are better players, as well as better people, for the time we have spent together. We have grown as individuals as well as a team. We, of course, have room for improvement, but since I have more to teach them and I am certain they have more to teach me, I am certain that improvement will not be hard to find. I am still a bit tired, but I know that in a few weeks, I will find myself missing weeknight practices from 7-9, early morning Saturday tournaments and coming home from some away matches at 10:30 at night. I will even miss saying “no balls until the nets are setup” or hearing a certain assistant coach say “your passing progressions partner can’t be related to you, in your same grade or on your same team”. Most of all, I will miss seeing the recognition on their faces, when they are finally able to grasp a concept that previously alluded them and when they are finally able to flawlessly execute a skill they insisted they would never be able to perform.
It is my job to push them out of their comfort zones, challenge them to be better and do better, equip them to identify differences, learn how to adapt to and even embrace those differences, and to share my love, passion and knowledge of the game of volleyball with them. And for this, I would gladly suffer from self-doubt, sleep-deprivation and the feeling of helplessness. In the end, the bad stuff fades away and the fond memories and contentment are what remains.
