Always Up: Quiet Miles
We decided two days before the tournament to go.
Orlando again.
This time, she couldn’t play.
USAV rules.
We left our last team midseason, and once you do that, you’re done for the season.
No jumping to another team and getting right back on the court.
So it didn’t really make sense to go. At least that’s what I thought.
Why go just to watch?
She had just played her first game with her new team the weekend before and loved it. Loved the girls, the energy, just being around them. So she wanted to go anyway. To support. To be there.
I thought about it for a minute. Maybe she watches. Maybe she learns. Maybe she just enjoys the game without all the pressure tied to it.
So we went.
Took Brightline again.
More expensive than driving, but still worth it.
No traffic, no brake lights, no random slowdowns for no reason.
Just forward.
We talked more this time. Laughed more. Once we arrived, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smiling that much at a tournament.
At one point, she said,
“Dad, I feel so relaxed not having to play.”
And then a few minutes later,
“But I’m kinda bored not playing.”
That pretty much summed it up.
Kids want the game… just not all the parts that come with it. Honestly, adults are the same way.
The team didn’t do well. They were playing against national teams, and it showed. But she kept saying,
“I wish I was out there. I could help.”
She wasn’t playing, but she wasn’t disconnected either. She was locked in.
Standing on the sideline, clapping, calling things out, keeping track of rotations like she had been doing it all season.
Calling out plays, clapping after every point, locked in like she was on the court. You wouldn’t have known she wasn’t playing.
She was cheering louder than some of the players.
At some point, the coaches started joking that she was the best assistant coach. She leaned into it like it was an official role.
Three days of volleyball without watching my baby play.
Day one we were tired, so we went to bed early.
Nothing special.
Just rest.
Day two we got up early, watched friends on other teams play, laughed more, joked more, hit the ball around between games.
No pressure.
No expectations.
Just being there.
After the games, some of the girls went to Icon Park and rode the Orlando Starflyer.
I thought they were crazy. They thought it was the best thing ever.
We stayed nearby, just watching the energy.
It was a lot going on.
Too many kids doing things they probably shouldn’t be doing. But we made it through.
Tried to go to Outback Steakhouse after.
They weren’t letting anyone else in because of everything going on outside.
You could tell they had already decided the night wasn’t worth the risk.
So we ended up at Shake Shack and ate great.
Sometimes the backup plan works just fine.
Day three felt the same.
More games, more watching, more of her stepping into a different role.
Still engaged. Still connected. Still wanting to help.
We stayed at the Hyatt Regency Orlando again.
Same as before.
Solid. Reliable. Nothing flashy.
But I slept better than I have in months.
That part mattered more than anything else.
It ended up being a great trip, just not for the reasons I expected.
She didn’t play.
Didn’t score.
Didn’t compete.
But I don’t think I’ve ever seen her enjoy volleyball more.
Sometimes, when the pressure is gone, things settle. The game slows down, the noise fades out, and you start to see what’s actually there.
She still wants to play. That didn’t go anywhere.
But for a weekend, she didn’t have to carry it. And that changed everything.
Not every trip is about performing. Some are about breathing.
And sometimes, the moment you stop trying to carry everything…
is the moment you finally enjoy it again.
