As I’ve mentioned this summer and last fall, our oldest daughter always thought she wanted to go to a big college, but she ultimately found her ideal match at a small liberal arts college. As a strong high school and club volleyball player, but not a superstar, she decided in 10th grade that volleyball would not be part of her college decision. She recognized that the huge Division I schools she thought she wanted–the Marylands and Penn States–were not going to have a place for her on their varsity-level teams, so she would play intramural ball if it fit her schedule.
But then she fell in love with the small schools. And then a Division III coach reached out to her to see if she might be interested in playing. She was flattered….and interested….but in the end she chose another D III school for academics and campus climate–without having made any volleyball contact there. She told me she wanted to focus on getting used to college life and exploring her new world for a year, but that she would probably try to walk on as a sophomore. As a former high school and club coach–proudly, my daughter’s first coach–and as her fan through 100s of matches, I knew she would probably be able to make that happen–IF she still wanted to after a year….a big IF.
A few nights before she left for college, we had dinner together–just the two of us–and I went out of my way to remind her that she should only come back to playing at a competitive level down the road if she really missed it: not just the rush of a big point, but also the grind of a long practice on some random weekday in October. She was sure she wanted to play sophomore year, but I had my doubts….Anyway, time would tell.
Fast forward to her 8th day on campus, a Saturday–I get a text:
(paraphrased) I thought you would want to know that I met a girl who’s on the volleyball team and I have messaged the coach.
Uh, what?! Then, Monday:
Could you send me the Youtube link to the highlights you put together from last year’s playoffs? Coach ____ wants to see them since I can’t try out until Wednesday.
Whoa….Now she’s casually mentioning the coach by name? And she has a tryout?
Wednesday’s text was exactly 2 words:
So here I am, genuinely surprised. And proud. And, most of all, happy that she really is making her own choices.