Harry Potter And The Transition Error
Coaching volleyball is a little like standup comedy. This especially feels true for me, because my homeless nomadic coaching lifestyle has me working with lots of different teams for short periods of time. Every camp or seminar is a chance for me tryout some new material, to figure out better ways to teach the concepts that players need to understand. I end up creating bits that I use over and over again. Some of them I can write into the plan ahead of the time, some emerge organically, but predictably.
If I work with a team long enough, I know I’ll have a chance to use my Harry Potter bit.
“You Got To Talk Out There!”
Communication is important in volleyball. Players know it. I get to interact with a lot of different players, and I ask players all the time, “what makes a volleyball team good?” By far the most common answer I get is, “communication.” This is probably overrating communication a little bit. Clean passing mechanics and 6-foot outsides with big arms make a bigger impact. But still, if you want to be good, you need good communication.
And, regardless of how it affects winning, young players would like communicate well so they don’t have to have their parents and coaches remind them, ever so calmly and respectfully, of the importance of talking on the court.
So Where Does Harry Potter Fit Into This?
There’s a few different drills that could bring out the Harry Potter bit. Anything involving fast-paced transition situations creates the opportunity for players to miscommunicate. Less-skilled teams will make even simple plays like routine setter digs harder on themselves when they don’t communicate properly. At the high school level, the most common situation is: setter digs a ball when the libero (or whoever is the preferred second setter) is not on the court.
Sometimes this ball will outright drop, other times it will get up after a moment of hesitation but not be set well. The end result is either an error or, at best, a freeball or downball sent over instead of a strong attack. When this happens, I blow my whistle and quickly bring everybody in.
“Ya’ll know Harry Potter? Magical Wizard? Goes to Hogwart’s, scar on his head?” The smarter players know I’m going somewhere with this and nod so I can continue, while the other ones just scratch their head in confusion.
“Well,” I say, dragging things out, “I hate to inform you… but that movie isn’t real.” Hopefully I get at least a chuckle.
“It’s a bummer, it would be great to have a wand and say the magic words and have all sorts of cool stuff happen. But… there is one magic word. You all want to see me do some magic?”
I have the players spread out just a little bit and then I throw the ball up in the air in the middle of them and say loudly and clearly one player’s name and, “catch this ball.” That girl will step forward and catch the ball. I stack the deck in my favor by picking a player who I know is listening and will have enough awareness to not make me look like an idiot in this situation.
Specific Communication, Specific Action
At this point, the players have all caught on. I ask them, “okay, so what’s the only magic word?” And they know it: somebody’s name. I continue the bit a little by asking anybody to raise their hand if their name is, “help,” or, “setter’s out.” You can count on one smart-ass to raise her hand (if it’s a group of middle school boys, it’s the whole team), but everybody gets the idea. When you say nothing, nothing is going to happen. When you say something vague, some action might happen, but it’s going to be imprecise. When you use specific communication, specific action can result.
At this point, we can get right back on the court and practice these situations.
Feel free to use this specific bit, or create your own that will be less corny and probably way funnier than mine.