Introducing Kids to Club Volleyball: What I Wish I Knew Before We Started
It’s 7:12 AM on a rainy Saturday, and I’m leaning against my minivan in the gym parking lot, sipping coffee that went cold ten minutes ago. My 12-year-old Lila is picking at a loose thread on her sweatpants, wearing knee pads that belonged to the neighbor’s daughter, rolled twice at the top to keep them from slipping down to her ankles. She quit rec soccer three months prior, after telling me “half the team spends the whole game gossiping by the goal and the coach doesn’t care, so I don’t either.” I’d been scrolling through local youth sports message boards for two weeks, stressed that she’d spend the whole fall parked on the couch watching TikTok edits, when the neighbor texted out of the blue: Our entry-level volleyball team has an open spot. Want her to come try out?
I almost said no. I’d absorbed all the common stereotypes about club volleyball: it’s only for hyper-competitive parents who drop thousands on private lessons and cross-country travel, pushing 13-year-olds to lock down college offers before they hit high school. That wasn’t the vibe I wanted for our family, or for Lila, who’d always preferred small groups to big, high-pressure situations. But I was desperate to get her off the couch, so I agreed we’d go for one practice, no strings attached.
We walked in, and the gym smelled like rubber flooring and half-empty Gatorade bottles. Fifteen other kids around Lila’s age were chasing stray balls across the court, laughing when someone got hit in the side. The coach, a woman in her 30s in a faded college hoodie, came over right away. She didn’t ask Lila what position she played or how much experience she had. She just said, “Grab a ball, find someone your size, and start passing. If you hit someone in the face, laugh it off and try again.”
Lila tripped over her own feet going for her first bump, sent the ball flying into the bleachers, and turned bright red. A girl named Mia, who ended up being her tournament roommate a few months later, yelled across the court, “I did that my first three practices! Come over here, I’ll show you how to stand.” By the end of practice, Lila was already joking around with three other girls, and I was standing by the door surprised at how easy it felt.
After practice, the coach pulled me aside to say she’d love to have Lila on the team. I braced for a $1500 season fee I couldn’t afford, but she said the entry-level team was $350 for the whole season—covering all practices and local tournament fees—and they knocked $100 off if you helped set up for one tournament a season. I’d had no idea. Most people only talk about the elite travel teams when they mention club volleyball, so I’d assumed all of it was out of my budget.
Over the first few months, I started noticing small shifts I didn’t expect. Lila used to beg her teachers to let her work alone on group projects, because she hated talking to kids she didn’t know well. After a month of volleyball, she came home and asked if three teammates could come over for a movie night. I almost dropped my dinner plate.
One game halfway through the season, we were tied 14-14 in the last set, and Lila was up to serve. She rushed it, double-hit the ball, and it went out of bounds. We lost. She came off the court, leaned against the wall, and cried, wouldn’t look at anyone. I was halfway down the bleachers to get her when the whole team walked over and surrounded her. The captain pulled a pack of sour candy out of her bag and handed her a piece. No one gave her a cheesy, adult speech about how it was okay to mess up. They just said, “Next time we’ll get them” and then started arguing about what pizza to get after the game. I stood back and realized this wasn’t about winning or scholarships. It was about kids figuring out how to show up for each other when things go wrong.
If you’re on the fence about introducing your kid to club volleyball, there are a few concrete things I learned that I wish someone had told me. First, don’t write it off for cost before you ask. Almost every club has entry-level teams for new players that cost a fraction of elite teams, and most have fee reductions or waivers for families that need them. You just have to send a quick email to the club director to ask—they don’t advertise it widely to avoid people asking for discounts who don’t need them, but it’s almost always available. Second, go watch a practice before you sign up, don’t just rely on the website. If the coach yells at kids for missing passes, or only plays the most skilled kids the whole game, leave. Good entry-level coaches rotate everyone in, stop to teach basics, and let kids mess up without shaming them. Third, don’t buy all the fancy gear right away. Lila used hand-me-down knee pads and a $18 Amazon volleyball for six months, and no one cared. You only need the custom team jersey the club orders anyway, and you can upgrade gear later if your kid sticks with it. Fourth, you don’t have to do out-of-state travel if you don’t want to. Our entry team only plays tournaments within an hour of home, one Saturday a month, and the one out-of-town tournament this season is completely optional.
It’s not all perfect. Last month, I forgot to pack Lila’s extra socks for an early tournament, she got blisters halfway through the day, and she yelled at me in the parking lot for being “bad at snack mom duty.” We sat in the car for 15 minutes while she cooled off, then she went back in for the last game. There are early mornings I drag myself out of bed for, snack duties I forget, and car rides home where she’s grumpy because they lost.
This weekend, we have another tournament. I remembered the extra socks this time, but I forgot to buy the fruit I’m supposed to bring for team snack. I’ll probably end up running through the drive-through for donuts at 6 AM, and no one will mind. Lila laid her uniform out on her desk last night, even though the tournament isn’t until Saturday. She still misses more serves than she makes, she still complains about getting up early for practice, and she might decide next year that she’d rather do art club or nothing at all. That’s fine. For right now, it’s the first thing she’s gotten excited about in a long time, and that’s more than enough for me.
Please indicate: Thinking In Educating » Introducing Kids to Club Volleyball: What I Wish I Knew Before We Started