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Bouncing Back from the Bottom

By Fernanda Diaz Hernandez

What sport taught you the hardest lesson in your life? It will be hard to answer if you have never played a sport. In my case, volleyball taught me the hardest lesson in my life. Ever since I have carried it with me wherever I go or when I want to accomplish a goal. It was like a truck ran over me; it hit me so unexpectedly. Although it brought me down, I used it as fuel to get back up and better. Through the highs and lows of my volleyball journey, I’ve learned more about resilience, hard work, and the value of striving for excellence. This sport has pushed me to grow as an athlete, a person, and a competitor. Volleyball is my passion because it taught me self–improvement and how things are not handed to you easily.

I was first introduced to volleyball when I was in middle school, but I didn’t take it seriously until my freshman year of high school. It was then that I realized how much I loved the sport. The first time I tried out for the team, my nerves hit me immediately. My stomach would flip in knots every time I stepped onto the court. The sound of my shoes squeaking against the wood floor, the crispness of the ball bouncing against the court, the low thud of the ball hitting the net when I couldn’t get it over; all of this was overwhelming and exciting at the same time. It was a thrilling, fast-paced game, and I knew I wanted to get better at it.

 "Get a partner and start with the drills," my coach instructed. "Don’t forget to call, ‘Mine’ when you make contact with the ball," he added as my partner and I tried to be successful with the drills. I could feel the thrill coursing through me with every pass, every serve. Even though sometimes I would miss or hit the net, the atmosphere was always motivating during practices, and the adrenaline in every game just drove me to be better. Even though I had a lot to learn, I was eager to improve, and the journey was just beginning.

As I continued to work hard, my skills improved over the next year, and by my sophomore year, I felt confident heading into my junior year. I had put in hours of practice, gained some confidence, and believed I was ready for the Varsity team. But nothing prepared me for the crushing disappointment I would face when I didn’t make the team.

When the list of players was posted, my heart sank. The tears formed in my eyes as I stared at the names and mine wasn’t on the list. “Was I not good enough or experienced enough,” I asked myself. It was clear that the Varsity spot I wanted was out of my reach. The same three words repeated in my mind: I wasn’t enough.  The whole experience felt like a failure, and it was hard to accept.

The disappointment was almost unbearable because all I wanted was a spot on the Varsity team. I thought it was going to be my year. Turned out that spot was meant for someone else. This really took a toll on me, since I started to miss playing with the team, seeing the opponent on the other side of the court, and even jumping of excitement with my friends after every point. There is where I believed I belonged. I used all the sadness, the doubts, and anger as  fuel. I reflected on what I needed to work on and I started right away. I wasn’t going to let this setback define me. I realized that if I truly wanted to succeed, I would need to work even harder.

During the summer before my senior year, I worked tirelessly. I hit the gym, focused on improving my technique, and pushed myself further than ever before. I wanted to prove to myself that I could make the team, and that I could come back stronger. I was hungry for a spot on the team. When tryouts came around again, I was nervous, but I also felt more prepared. I could hear the familiar squeak of my shoes on the court again, and it was a sound that filled me with confidence. The longing of hearing that squeak again was filled. The burn in my legs as I slid across the floor to make a save was a reminder of how much I had worked for this moment.

When my name was finally called, my heart raced with excitement. "Congratulations! You have a spot on the Varsity volleyball team," my coach said. The words filled me with pride and relief. All the hours of practice, the sacrifice, and the persisting belief had finally paid off. I knew I wasn’t going to take this for granted. Every day I wanted to prove to my coaches they made the right choice of having me on the team. I was not going to disappoint them.

“You have come up in every conversation we’ve had,” my coach told me. “We see how hungry you are to have a spot on this team.” I realized it wasn’t about the skills I have or how much I knew about the sport, but it was about perseverance, showing up everyday, and putting in the work everyday. This moment was proof that things don't come easily, but they are achievable with determination.

Volleyball is my passion because it taught me the most important lesson of all: self-improvement is a lifelong journey, and nothing comes without hard work and perseverance. From the nerve-wracking tryouts in my freshman year to the crushing disappointment of not making the team in my junior year, I’ve learned that success doesn’t happen from one day to another. It’s about showing up, working tirelessly for hours, and remaining hungry for improvement. My passion for volleyball has given me the strength to keep pushing forward, even when the road seemed impossible. And in the end, it’s that hunger and drive that led me to my ultimate goal, and I will always carry that in every journey of my life.