I sometimes catch myself wishing I could turn back time for a little bit. Times I wanted to play that tie-breaking set again and days I didn’t want to leave practice. There were also days I wanted the clock to speed up. The days I dreaded practice and times I didn’t want to play another game. Through the highs and the lows, something always had me coming back the next day. A lot of sweat, tears and many injuries (we all know I’m injury prone) went into this sport, a lot more than should go into it.

Looking back and thinking of the pain, what kept me coming back?

It was the glory you felt inside. Not the glory that you receive after a big win but the glory you felt in your heart knowing that you absolutely love what you’re doing. The glory of fighting for every point and the glory you get from your team and coaches. I’ve never played for the win but just for the love of the game although the victories were pretty sweet as well.

But when did the game become worth more than the win?

The moment I stepped out on the court for the first time. I didn’t realize it at the time, not one bit. In fact, I remember spending my very first game ever on the bench. I remember that white tank top, baggy shorts and turtle shell knee pads. I remember not always loving the sport. I remember a lot but I don’t remember whether we beat this team or won this or that. I remember hanging out with my team, I remember taking naps together before games and I remember our bus rides together.

Of course I remember Dig Pink Night my freshman year, being destroyed when a random dodgeball game broke out during practice, “swimming” in the bleachers, my amazing dives, wearing my spandex backwards, holes in multiple pairs of spandex, being hit in the head by many serves, trying to pass a ball with my face, running into a wall and the fact that nothing good ever happens when I play back row. (Unless you’re on my team you won’t understand but I’m sure my team is dying reading this)

It’s always been more than a game to me because of everything that it has taught me. Through every victory we learn to remain humble and every loss teaches us to work even harder. Along the way we learned that the game was just as mental as it was physical. I had to learn to get out of my own head and that was extremely hard on me. I honestly remember times I had an amazing play then completely messed up the next. I sometimes worry myself sick after a bad game but that’s just how I’ve always been.

I’ve always cared so much about the game (sometimes too much) and it’s always showed my heart and desire. I remember spraining my ankle at practice and falling to the ground crying in pain. The pain was unbearable but that wasn't really why I was crying. I was crying because I just worked all summer and I thought I just took myself out for the season a week before our first game. I broke that same ankle a few months before which took me out for two months and I did not want to go through that ever again. Although I was worried for nothing and I was back on the court after 3 days, I knew it would've killed me to sit on the bench and watch my season slip away

It’s obviously always been more than a game because why else would I play year-round? Why would I drive hours every weekend to play in a tournament? Why would I dedicate so much of my life to something that could all be over tomorrow? The answer is simple: because I love it. My teammates became my best friends, my coaches were like family and the court was simply where I always belonged. This sport completely changed my life and that is why its always been more than a game to me.