Introducing your kids to club volleyball: a parent’s honest guide
The first time I watched my daughter step onto a club volleyball court, she was wearing kneepads that slipped down to her ankles every time she moved. She looked younger than the other girls, even though they were all around the same age. The gym was loud, the coaches had clipboards, and a group of high school players ran the warm-up like they’d done it a hundred times before. My daughter kept glancing over at me from the baseline, and I kept pretending not to watch.
She had played on the school team the previous fall. It was a low-pressure recreation league with one practice a week and a coach who mostly wanted everyone to have fun. My daughter loved it. She came home talking about passes and sets and “the pancake move,” which I later learned is how you dig a ball that’s about to hit the floor. When she asked if she could try club volleyball, I wasn’t sure what to say. I knew club was more competitive. I knew it cost money. And I had this vague image of parents screaming from bleachers and 10-year-olds with ice packs on their shoulders.
The tryout was held on a Sunday morning over three hours. The kids rotated through drills — passing, hitting, serving—while evaluators stood behind them with clipboards. There was no told-you-so moment, no moment where she transformed into a star athlete. She missed a serve. She hesitated on a free ball. She also ran to chase a ball that rolled onto another court, which had nothing to do with volleyball but apparently mattered to the coach. That was the first thing I learned about club volleyball: they aren’t just looking at skills. They’re watching how kids handle the moments between the drills.
About halfway through, one of the coaches asked the kids to split into pairs and pass back and forth. My daughter got partnered with a girl she didn’t know. They dropped the first few exchanges. Then I saw my daughter walk closer to the girl and say something, and the two of them seemed to adjust their spacing. They finished the drill looking almost coordinated. I don’t know what she said. I never asked. But I remember thinking that club volleyball was going to teach her a kind of communication that rec league never quite did.
She made the team, and that’s when the real introduction began.
The practices ran twice a week, an hour and a half each, and they were not the laid-back after-school affairs I’d expected. The coach ran a tight schedule. Every drill had a purpose, and if a girl wasn’t paying attention, the whole group did an extra sprint. My daughter cried once on the way home because she’d gotten cut from a starting rotation during a scrimmage. She said the coach was unfair. I didn’t try to fix it. I just listened and asked her what she thought she could do differently at the next practice. That was the start of a conversation that has continued for two seasons now.
What surprised me most was the way the team became a second family. The girls celebrated each other’s good plays and, just as importantly, they learned to reset after mistakes on the court. The coach had a saying after every missed serve or bad set: “Next point.” No lecture, no thrown hands, no long meeting. The message was simple: the last point is over. What matters is what happens next. It sounds like a sports cliché, but I saw it work. After a while, the girls weren’t just saying it on the court. They were saying it to each other on the bench, and later, I heard my daughter say it to herself after she forgot a backpack at school. The phrase had become hers.
There are practical things I wish other parents knew before jumping in.
First, club volleyball is not one thing. There are clubs that focus on fundamentals and playing time for every kid, and there are clubs that are designed mainly for elite players headed to college scholarships. Both exist, and both are fine. You just need to know which one you’re signing up for. When you talk to a club director, ask directly: “What is your philosophy on playing time?” Some clubs rotate players equally. Others play the strongest six and sit the rest. The answer matters more for a 12-year-old than for a 17-year-old.
Second, get the full cost picture before you commit. Club volleyball fees can vary wildly. On top of the season fee, there are often uniform costs, tournament entry fees, and hotel stays if the club travels regionally or nationally. Ask for a written season schedule. Ask which tournaments are local and which require an overnight stay. Ask if the fee covers everything or if there are extras. Some clubs have payment plans. Some don’t. It’s not impolite to ask—it’s the kind of question clubs are used to, and the good ones will answer without making you feel awkward.
Third, think about the time. A typical club season might run from November through May, with a couple of practices a week and one or two tournaments a month. For a kid who is also in school band, plays another sport, or just needs downtime, that can be a lot. The first season, we cleared the calendar. We missed a couple of family dinners on weekends, and I felt guilty about it. Over time, we found a rhythm. We planned tournament Sundays around the idea that Mondays would be low-key. We stopped trying to schedule anything else on those weekends. It’s a season of life, not a permanent decision.
The biggest thing I’ve seen change in my daughter isn’t her forearm pass, though that has improved. It’s how she handles frustration. In school volleyball, a bad play meant she might have to wait for the next game. In club volleyball, she gets to play again two points later. She has to recover quickly because the team needs her. There’s no time to dwell. That’s not always comfortable to watch, especially when she makes an error in front of a crowd of parents. But it’s real.
I realize now that introducing your kid to club volleyball starts with a question you have to answer honestly: is this for them or for you? If they’re genuinely interested, club can be an incredible way for them to grow. If they’re only doing it because a friend is doing it, it’s worth having a talk about what practice will actually look like. A few parents asked me how they’d know if their child is “ready” for club. I usually say it’s less about readiness and more about desire. If your kid says they want to play more volleyball, and you can manage the money, time, and emotions, then it’s probably worth a tryout.
The tryout is the easiest part of the whole process, honestly. The hard part is what comes after: sitting in cold gyms, eating concession stand pizza, waiting through long timeouts while your kid sits on the bench, and trying not to coach from the sidelines. You have to let them figure out a lot on their own. For me, the hardest thing has been watching my daughter struggle with a coach she doesn’t always like or a teammate who doesn’t pass enough. It’s tempting to step in and fix things. But I know that she needs to learn how to handle coaches and teammates who aren’t perfect, because that’s true in every job and every relationship she’ll ever have.
Club volleyball hasn’t made my kid into a star, and it hasn’t given us any guarantees about college or scholarships. It’s given us something simpler: a sport she cares about, a group of friends she sees every week, and a few phrases we now use at home. Just last week, I made a mistake with dinner and burned the rice. My daughter looked at me across the table and said, “Next point.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or throw a napkin at her. I did both.
And the season isn’t over yet.
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