What I Wish I Knew For My Freshman Year of College Volleyball
Maddy Ahrens is a 2017 graduate of Appleton North High School where she had a decorated career as a setter which included All Conference, All Area, and All State Honors. She played in the 2015 and 2016 state tournament, helping the Lightning to the 2016 Fox Valley Association Conference Championship, their only outright title in school history. Here are some of her thoughts reflecting on her freshman year of college volleyball at Northwest Missouri State, an NCAA Division 2 school in Maryville, MO. Going from an initial redshirt to a consistent player in the lineup, Ahrens goes through the peaks and valleys of the season and her growth as a person through the entire process. Ahrens will be a Sophomore this Fall with a major in Biology/Psychology with plans to go to physical therapy school.
In the months leading up to my departure for Missouri, I had this idea of what being a college student-athlete would be like. As glamorous as it seemed as depicted through Twitter and Instagram, I was excited to experience the life of a college volleyball athlete. But soon after I verbally committed to Northwest, everything became real to me. I would soon be moving nine hours away from my hometown to a school where I knew no one. I experienced a kind of anxiety I had never felt before as my mind was filled with excitement yet uncertainty about my future. And although the latter of my senior year of high school brought happiness and excitement through prom and graduation, I was constantly worrying about what my life would be like a few months from then.
I entered the Northwest volleyball program as a redshirt. Knowing I would be able to learn from the two setters above me, I was content with this role going into my freshman year. A week into preseason my coach explained to me that she envisioned me playing that season instead. The vision I had for my freshman year was flipped upside down. As a response, I convinced myself that I had to prove to my coaches and teammates that I was worthy enough to be there. After almost every practice I would leave so frustrated and even hungrier for reps. During practices I remember looking over at my coach to try and read her reaction to a setting decision or when I made a mistake. It was a guessing game that turned into the epitome of a perfectionist’s nightmare. I remember a specific bus ride home where all of my frustrations surfaced, all caused by my own self-criticisms and negative self-talk. I began to pair my performance with acceptance of others which almost always left me disappointed. But after I had my moment, I remembered where I was in my journey. I was a freshman, originally supposed to be a redshirt that was learning a completely new culture. I remember telling myself to be patient and surprisingly this brought me so much peace. I wish I knew that those practices and matches did not define me. In any sport or in life, you are going to make mistakes. You can always try to have the perfect practice, perfect set, or perfect match, but ultimately you will never achieve this level of perfection. This is something I still struggle with, but have come to realize that it’s OK to make mistakes and that mistakes are necessary for success. I think that accepting that mistakes are going to happen are crucial for not only self-improvement, but self-love and sufficiency. If you can accept that where you are is enough and live each day by fueling your mind with positivity, you will be one step ahead of a lot of freshman this year.
Three months into the school year and volleyball season, I received news that my Aunt’s cancer had returned. While I was trying to control my school work and performance with volleyball, I found myself desperately trying to control my Aunt’s cancer. I tried despite being nine hours away from her and the rest of my family. I tried to downplay the severity of her cancer and the emotions I was battling with. About three weeks after her diagnosis she passed away. Something I wish I knew my freshman year of college volleyball would be that you can’t control what life hands you; but, you are in complete control of how you respond. We all have ideas of what life will be like, but change is inevitable and sometimes very scary. Looking back I had coaches, advisors, teammates and peers that were there for me, but it was ultimately in my control to ask for guidance. Throughout my volleyball career I have been constantly reminded by my coaches to “control the controllables” but the idea could not be more relevant to the world of collegiate sports and our everyday lives. Just like I can’t control how hard a statistics exam will be, or how my coaches will react, I could not control my Aunt’s cancer. However, I can control how much I study, how hard I work and how I can spread love to the people I encounter every day. I certainly hope you don’t experience this type of loss your freshman year of college, but I will tell you that you will most likely lose something. Whether that’s a friend, a match, experiencing a tough workout, losing your cool, or underpreparing for an exam. Through any of these losses there is a lesson to be learned and something to be gained. So take a deep breath, accept what is, and respond with love.
About three weeks into our spring season, I got a call from my former high school coach. He and I are close, so the random phone call was no surprise. We started talking about how coaches and players get so caught up in their role. For him, coaching is more than just showing up to practice with a positive attitude. Coaching for him is watching film, reading books, articles, watching coaching YouTube videos, analyzing himself on film and how he gave feedback to a player, reviewing stats, and the list goes on. Coaches and players get so distracted by trying to be the perfect coach or perfect volleyball player that they often misunderstand why they as people are involved in the sport at all. Being a person of faith, I think we are involved in our sport, or our passion, to make connections with the people around us that will last forever. It doesn’t matter if you missed a serve, missed a dig, made the wrong setting decision, or hit negative in a match. What matters, despite all the other distractions in our lives, is the connections that are being made and who you are becoming in the process. It’s simple, yet so many people forget that perfection is not possible, nor is it eternal; however, connections that turn into loving relationships are.
When I was asked to write this article I thought about not doing it at all; meaning, I thought about writing something that didn’t reflect who I really am. I thought about giving you a few clichés compiled with nonsense about who I was and how much I have grown. But not much has changed. I’m still the same person, just with more experience and knowledge about the game. But something that I live by now, and that I didn’t realize my freshman year, is that when you allow yourself to become vulnerable, your relationships, your mentality, and your physicality strengthens. I made the biggest leaps this past year when I was most uncomfortable and frustrated. For example, changing my footwork. When I entered the Northwest program, I had a solid foundation of fundamentals that I developed from successful high school and club programs (Appleton North and Wisconsin Volleyball Academy). I was confident in my feet and hands but I knew they could be improved. When my college team began spring training, I thought I was forgetting everything I knew about setting. My coach explained to me what I was doing wrong, and what she envisioned for me to do instead. For the first couple weeks, my muscle memory took over and I could not break the old habits I had formed from years of training. I didn’t know when I was doing the wrong footwork or how to break it. It was a cycle of reps, and then the frustration. I lost most of my confidence and almost convinced myself that I would not be able to do the footwork right. But about three weeks later, there was a breakthrough. I finally recognized when I was doing the wrong footwork, how to stop it, and how to do the correct footwork that my coach had envisioned. In those moments of anger and frustration, you have to remember what you are doing. You are completely changing the way you play. Your coach is shaking your foundation and rebuilding you in the vision that they see is best for their program. You might think nothing is going right at that moment, but below the surface there are changes being made. In addition, you have to remember that your coaches are there to guide you. They are there to lead you in the direction of success, not to make you feel like you are not good enough. Be open to this guidance and be vulnerable with them both on and off the court because that is when you will grow the most.
My freshman year was nothing that I expected it to be, but that was the best part about it. I truly hope that you embrace the best things about freshman year like making new connections, spending countless hours with your team, or maybe getting to play in your first collegiate match. However, I also hope that you embrace the uncertainty of moving away from home and the losses that will challenge you this year. Most importantly, be grateful that you get to improve yourself on the court, in the classroom and in life at a place that encourages you to do so. I truly wish you the best this year!