My college volleyball coach called me 'selfish.' And perhaps I was.

My transition from high school volleyball to college volleyball was not an easy one. I went from being a big fish in a small pond to the tiniest fish in a big ocean. I admit that I struggled with said transition. Also, it didn’t help that I had a psychologically abusive coach.

This blog post was inspired by none other than Anna DeBeer, a six-rotation player for Louisville and an All-American. I was watching her play in the national semifinals last night, and she is stoic. I texted my group volleyball chat and said, “Does Anna EVER show emotion?” And the answer is, no. No, she does not.

This morning, my best friend must have been watching a replay of the match and sent me a video of Anna’s serving run in the fifth set. Each time they scored a point, the team went wild and huddled up, screaming in each other’s faces, chest bumping. Well, all the team but Anna. The millisecond each point was over, Anna turned around and walked back to the service line with calm ferociousness on her face. She was on a mission. No team huddle was going to disrupt that mission.

Anna continued to go on an 8-point service run, in the fifth set, to put her team in a solid position to advance to Louisville’s FIRST national title match.

Is Anna any less of a team player because she isn’t celebrating each point in the team huddle? Do you think her teammates were thinking, “Man, Anna just ran off EIGHT points for us, but she must not be as passionate as the rest of us, because she doesn’t celebrate the same way?”

That scenario made me reflect on my own college experience.

I remember having the STUPIDEST talk in a hotel room on one of our trips after a tough loss, led by our coaching staff, and we were basically all asked to ‘rank’ which players on the team ‘care the most’ and the rankings were based on who ‘celebrates’ winning points most enthusiastically. One of my best friends on the team (who happened to play the position I wanted) is not a toucher. She didn't like embracing each other in the huddle after every play, and she was called out for "not caring."

The beautiful thing about humans is that we are all wired different. Some people are Raquel Lazaro – laughing, dancing on the court, chest bumping her teammates, staying lose. Some people are Anna Debeer – you won’t catch her facial expression changing; all her emotions are internal. Both Raquel and Anna are incredible athletes, teammates, and leaders. There are ‘loud’ leaders (Raquel) and ‘quiet’ leaders (Anna), and both are equally important to the team. It takes all kinds.

I am shifting points here.

I don’t know if my feeling on this is ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ or neither. But I know it’s how I feel.

I was a bench player my freshman year of college. However, for whatever reason, I was only put in if matches went to fifth sets, to act as a serving specialist. The second my serving duties were over, I subbed out. I don’t know why coach put me in only during crucial fifth sets, but it made me believe there had to have been some type of trust in me.

Sorry for the jargon – but another thing that confused me was this: It became apparent that I was the “last” defensive specialist who would ever be put in a match. However, there were two instances where our All-American libero got hurt, and I was told to rush to the locker room to grab my different colored jersey and take over libero duties. I was confused. If I am the ‘weakest’ of the defensive specialists, WHY am I the first one in as libero – the best defensive player on the court?

So anyway, I asked one of the assistant coaches who I felt comfortable with if I could have a candid, confidential conversation with her. I painted the aforementioned scenario to her, explained my confusion, asked if she could provide insight on what my ‘role’ was for the team and asked for specific parts of my play I should focus on to earn a starting position.

I did not complain about playing time. I understood that time on the court needed to be earned, but dammit, I wanted to earn it. I was not going to be content as a bench player, I just wasn’t.

This assistant coach took my conversation to the head coach, who later called me ‘selfish’ for not ‘accepting my role on the team.’

Here is my take on this.

I loved my teammates. I cheered for them on the sidelines, and I celebrated their success. Was I thrilled to be doing so? Fuck no, I wasn’t. I wanted to be on the court, playing the sport that I love. As a coach, if you have players who are CONTENT sitting on the bench, then they aren’t the right players.

I am an athlete. I am a workhorse. I am a competitor. I wanted to be in the game. I wanted to earn my spot on that court. Sure, I would ‘fulfill’ my role as a sideline player, and I would do so with grace, but you bet your ass I was going to do anything in my power to change what my role was. That meant working harder and harder, especially in the off season.

If that makes me ‘selfish,’ I am glad to be it. Note: I played for a Division 3 school and was not on scholarship. I was there for the love of the game. If my education was being paid for to stand on the sideline, I am sure that would have been a slightly easier pill for me to swallow.