
I coach seventh grade volleyball. I have done so, off and on, for the last nine years. There have been years when we had varsity
and junior varsity teams. Then there were years when
only one team was allowed but you could hold tryouts and
make cuts. While cuts are never easy to make (because twelve year old girls' hearts break very easily) there is a lot to be said for working with eleven or twelve girls to build a solid team, strong in skill and devoted to each other.

Sports are still available at our local junior high because a foundation was established in honor of three former students that died in a car accident after they graduated from high school while traveling together in Alaska. A stipulation of receiving the foundation money was that all desiring students must be allowed to play and that no cuts be made to any of the sports' teams. This is a nice idea, if you
don't care about winning. But it depends upon what you
consider a win.
The first week of practice I had over forty girls show up..., for a sport that plays six. By the time regular practices got under way, that number had dropped to thirty-six. Then by the first game, my team was twenty-eight. Twenty-seven girls and one brave boy. That gave me four teams of seven, that I rotated in and out of play. I promised each girl they would play for at least twelve points each game. And they did. Did we win? One time out of nine. Was it worth it? I believe so. Don't get me wrong, it killed me to not win more often but we did win, in a different way, perhaps the right way.
Our last game was yesterday. I had eight players that worked very well together and almost always won their match when I did play them together. The remaining 20 players had never played volleyball, still had difficulty grasping rotations, and had trouble even getting a serve over the net. They wanted to, it just wasn't in the cards. But a funny thing happened. These kids supported each other, cheered each other on, told each other
good try, gave high fives, teamed up for outside-of-school practices and became a true team. They were there for each other.
Throughout the season, I watched my team captain help another girl, a girl who had trouble even looking anyone in the eye, let alone hit a volleyball that was served right at her head. They became friends and an evolution took place. The new player became a volleyball player. She fell in love with the sport. In my final coach's talk, I told my team of twenty-eight how proud I was of them and how the lessons they learned
here were more important than any trophy or plaque. They learned to admire without jealousy, they learned to teach without expectations, they learned to value relationships beyond payment or a win. True ROI and a lesson for me.
And the student shall become the master.

by rayannethorn