Semi Pro

Unrewarding. That’s how I would describe ninety percent of our practices leading up to season. At least, from a blocking perspective. A few touches, the occasional soft block, and lots of “my bads” pretty much sums up how pre-season blocking went. Not the most inspiring to say the least. But before we go there, maybe I should start with a little backstory – after all, how did a right side defender of four years end up as an undersized left side blocker?

With such an abbreviated season from the AVP, I decided that I wanted to play with someone that I can train with, but the options in south Florida are limited, especially blockers. Despite being friends, the way that Kendra and I linked up as partners was somewhat haphazard. I was supposed to play a futures tournament at the end of last year with Brooke Sweat, but she injured her knee right beforehand. Kendra, who was going to coach us, subbed in, and we took a fifth after just two real days of practice with the Mikasa ball (iykyk). At first, I joked that I was pulling her out of retirement for the upcoming season. Somehow, over the course of a couple months, that joke morphed into reality. She was in. Thus, I managed to snag one of the best AVP defenders out of retirement using the guise that I could be blocker – something even I wasn’t sure I believed.

Lucky for me and my blocking, I have Kendra as a defender, and with her running around back there, the ball just goes up. Doesn’t matter what the call is, doesn’t matter if I think the play is over, doesn’t matter if I messed up at the net: the ball goes up. I can’t say I know what it’s like to play with other defenders, but I’ve come to just expect the ball up in the air or hurtling at me when I turn around. She’s still a stud.

Even with an excellent defender behind me, pre-season training left me feeling like a bit of an imposter at the net. We practiced against guys, who hit around me or shoot down over my hands, and local women, crafty vets who mainly chop around. Highly unrewarding. I often called myself a blind squirrel, hoping desperately that I would find a nut in the form of a block. Some days I felt (and still feel) more like one of those used car inflatables just flailing my arms around. I didn’t get much sense of how my lineups and timing were. I did, however, get a good sense of humility and respect for all the blockers out there. It’s pretty freaking hard.  

I know that statistically, even the best blockers in the world are getting only a 1-2 stuff blocks a set, and then on top of that a few more soft touches and maybe a couple digs. And while in my mind, of course I think I should touch everything, I know realistically that is not the case. 

Leading up to the contender’s AVP in Palm Beach, we practiced with another team who was in town, and there were some glimmers. A few soft blocks back to the other side, a couple touches to help out my defender, feeling like maybe I was in the right spot at least most of the time. But no stuff blocks. No real sense that I was forcing the opponents into something uncomfortable or influencing their shot selection. Just a couple glimmers. A little bit of positive reinforcement for this blind squirrel.

Then came tournament time. And with it, finally, came rewards. In our first match of the day, arguably the most important in modified pool play (winning guarantees you come out of pool), I had a handful of stuff blocks and many more touches that we ended up converting. Rewards. It continued throughout the tournament. I was getting some good touches and a stuff every now and again, even against bigger, more seasoned blockers than me. I was building confidence up there. I was getting rewards.

By no means am I saying that I feel like a true blocker. Trust me, there is plenty more to work on. But it felt pretty dang good to get some validation that I’m doing something right up there. It’s been a fun challenge trying to become the best blocker I can be, and I still feel that I’ve only scratched the surface. 

-Megan