by Andrew Trzcinski (Spike Force, Men’s BB, Garden Empire Region)

The referee signaled and his whistle sounded the beginning of my team’s 2010 USA Volleyball Open National Championships Tournament. As my opponent bounced the volleyball a few times prior to serving, my mind raced over the 15 or so hours preceding this exact moment: The air travel the night before and wondering if anyone on my flight would be a potential opponent; The rush of excitement that came with those competitive thoughts; Checking into the hotel just before midnight local time; Catching only a few hours of sleep before coming down to finally join my teammates – in their poorly-done-multi-colored hair (quite an interesting scene after only a few hours of sleep); and finally there was the short walk in the already-warm Arizona morning air to the large expanse of the convention center.

Now I stood there, my first USAV Open National Championships, knowing that first serve would find me as any proper initiation should occur. Like a magnet! I tracked that red, white and blue ball right into my arms for a pass and with that the Stud Guppies were on their way.

With my initiation complete I instantly felt the shared camaraderie, not just with my team, but amongst all the players throughout the National Tournament. Knowing that for each player there was a person with their own journey of how they arrived there, their own set of expectations and their own story. It was an exhilarating feeling to be part of something so grand and so shared within the confines of competitive sport.

The tournament was a living entity as the games were played to the un-rhythmic beat of bouncing balls, sneaker screeches, referee whistles and cheers. I allowed myself a few moments throughout the tournament to stop and feel that energy, allowing it to fill me and remind myself to be thankful of its presence as well as my own active role there. I have been to countless tournaments, but something just felt different being there.

It felt BIG. It felt important. The opportunity to play against teams from across the country, or at times even just to watch, noting that we share this wonderful love of the game of volleyball. Every game seemed like the final of any other tournament.

The opponent was unknown. There was a thrill in that. There was a shared respect and admiration I felt there by everyone, respect for each opponent, respect for the game of volleyball, and admiration and pride for the notion that one was playing in a USAV Open National Championships.

The days fell into a routine, though each different from the prior, from the fresh start of a game to the uncertainty of where the accompanying night may find me. The excitement was there each morning regardless of whether the preceding day provided exhausting losses or triumphant victories. The only certainty – soreness! I already felt it on day two. There was no hop out of bed, though my mind and spirit had the eagerness, only the slow evaluation of what part of my body hurt and how bad. The hotel breakfast provided a warm and welcome start to each day as I entered and saw the familiar faces of my teammates and other Spike Force Club players. Taking in our nourishment, the expected “recollections”, or perhaps our own altered perceptions, of how the prior day’s games had gone filled the air joined with the occasional fuzzy memory of the following night time activities. I could feel the anticipation from each person of what the new day might bring – victories, heroics, the possibilities were endless.

Having a primarily morning session schedule, my next step was the short walk over to the convention center. The morning heat in the air was a welcome comfort to my body’s sore muscles, providing a bit of warm-up before entering the convention center. By day two the medical station was already part of my routine. Some stretching etc and I was as good as I was going to get. Bless those trainers! They had an endless line of players in need of stretching, taping, bandaging, etc throughout each day.

On one occasion I was fortunate enough to make it to the play area in time for the playing of our national anthem. To hear it, and to know it was being played for an event I was participating in, filled me with pride. Watching each person stand with attention, as it played, deepened my appreciation for this event, for its unity.

So the days progressed with plays worthy of highlight reels and those better forgotten. Every match I played or watched always seemed competitive, no matter where a team was from, the level of play, a team’s make-up (or hair color!), or the deficit within the game each point was battled out. What separated teams who finished in the Gold groups versus those who finished in the Bronze groups was not always substantial, at times just a few key points in a game here or there.

It was what I love about volleyball. How hard a team hits in warm-ups, or their height, or the fact that you may have seen them out in a local bar the night before at 2 am enjoying themselves mattered little once the game started. When the game started each person and each team brought their best so you knew you had to do the same. Whether it was an age-division or not, all I can recall was people gave their full effort, no matter how much their body was aching, no matter the score, and no matter if they were playing for gold or also-ran, it was about pride. It was about playing in the USA National Volleyball Tournament. It was about the journey it took for each player to be there, their commitment and love of the game, and their desire to play their best on such a grand stage.