Blinded by devastation in high school, it was the starting point to a new chapter in my life. Devastation faced me at the start of my junior year, rejection from the varsity volleyball team. Instead of being able to make the decision for myself of whether to embark running cross country, which was a talent of mine, or to participate in varsity volleyball, where my heart was obviously, the choice was made for me. I have always been bewildered when an athlete is more talented in one sport but chooses to participate in another. Should the athlete do what makes him/her happy or participate in the sport where he/she would accomplish more but have no will in what he/she is doing?

The summer before junior year started, I could be found working at my school’s ancient indoor pool, playing volleyball, or working out for volleyball. Yes, I didn’t have a life. Devoting my time to those three activities didn’t leave much free time to be a carefree teenager. Before work I ran in the morning to stay in moderate shape, and it also cleared my mind for the up and coming day. After running a few miles, I would devote my body and mind to work: teaching inexperienced, frantic children how to swim in the heavily chlorinated water. Once the exhausting hours of mentoring were over, I toughed it out in the smelly weight room to workout for volleyball. On various days I would do extra repetitions or exercises to be on top of my game once season started. One night a week, I even participated in a volleyball league at Defiance High School, as did everyone else on the team. On the wooden courts of Defiance High School, I put all the energy I had left, where no referees stood to distract those scorching hot matches.

Summer, a time of relaxation and, of course, no school, was filled with volleyball and work that left me fatigued. My profound dedication to volleyball overtook my chances of luxurious vacations, road trips, or beach endeavors. The whole volleyball team had workouts just about every day in the sizzling summer heat along with camps, which had to be paid for by my parents, scrimmages, and long hot open gyms without air conditioning. Although the most of those were not “mandatory,” Coach G. implied everyone had to go. All these events were like an unspoken expectation, not mentioned but understood without a single verbal word.

A few weeks before tryouts, a good friend, the cross country coach, told me that Coach G. said that there were going to be some cuts this year. The cross country coach continued to say, “The volleyball coach hopes that the girls who get cut will run cross country.”

Finally, the season was about to start after tryouts were out of the way. With the past year sitting varsity as a sophomore, playing a few varsity matches as a substitute, and being a captain of the junior varsity team, I felt confident and positive about receiving a varsity spot on the team. The tryouts consisted of a three-day skills review of the basics. We focused on everything from spiking, hitting, digging, blocking, to serving. Not only did the tryout aid in the decision of who made the team and who didn’t, but also the summer activities were considered.

The, what felt like, life-changing moment took place in the physical education teacher’s office. Filled with fear and hope, I entered the room with a slight smile on my face and shut the wooden door. Facing the two coaches (junior varsity and varsity), a foldable brown chair set with my name written all over it. All of us said hello to each other; then Coach G. started out by declaring, “Sammy, I am sorry, but you didn’t make the team this year.” I stopped; I couldn’t think; I couldn’t react; I couldn’t talk; I couldn’t process. My life passion was crumpled and thrown away like an unwanted note found on the floor. Stunned, I froze while the coaches explained the results, but it didn’t matter because a trance had overtaken my body. I recall Coach G. noting, “You are very inconsistent,” and “The younger girls are advancing quicker.” By then I was in tears of confusion and frustration, realizing that my volleyball days were over but not really understanding why. After the bad news trampled my spirit, Coach G. pointed out, “You can always do stats or keep book.” ‘Really? That is just what I want to hear when I get cut!’ With my pride severed and heart ashamed, I left volleyball.

As I stepped out of the office, my outlook on Coach G. along with my lifestyle and my perspective on life changed. The drive home consisted of a burst of confused tears and gasps of dry air that seemed difficult to swallow. Not knowing my next step, I sat at home for days replaying, thinking, and wondering, ‘What if.’ The cross country coach left me a reassuring voice mail that if I wanted to join the cross country team, I could. The thought puzzled what was left of my hope. I could either join cross country and be active, do stats for volleyball, or go straight home after every day of school and feel sorry for myself.

I joined cross country in the hopes to become more physically fit, to expand my mental strength, and to just not think about volleyball. With all those in mind, I gained much more than I bargained for. Towards the beginning of the season, being cut from volleyball motivated me while running four or five miles every day. Now, I realize that all the strength I used to motivate me while running turned out to be worthless because volleyball doesn’t even get the satisfaction of my accomplishments. I am what I work for; volleyball and its coaches have nothing to do with me now. My dedication, hard work, and commitment earned me an honorable mention at our conference, GMC, and I acquired a spot on my high school’s top thirty female runners’ list.

Coach G. chose my outcome for me, and I ended up with the sport that I am more successful with. I now understand why an athlete chooses one sport over the sport he/she may be stronger in. It defines me. I was not given a noble choice whether to play volleyball or run cross country, but no one can change the past. A new chapter: experiences, friends, teammates, and atmospheres have been gained.