NCAA Womens Volleyball

My Words: Chasing an extraordinary life

My Words: Chasing an extraordinary life


It was a sloppy practice. We had just run those same stairs of the Field House up to the wall and back another time after getting aced again. I had just told a practice player to hold off and switch with me after this rally just because I didn’t want the break after running when my teammates didn’t get one. The first play back on the court I went up to block, landing to pivot for a transition attack with a single leg right on top of another player’s foot. There was no stopping it, yet I nearly ripped the net down trying to keep myself from crumbling. My surgeon would later say it was one of the biggest bone bruises he’d seen. 

Our setter, Sydney Hilley, looked at me and said words. What? I am not sure. I told her I felt a pop as I held my knee and breathed through my teeth. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her hands go up to her head as she looked away. Kelly was standing at the pole on the other side of the net. He had seen the whole thing. I could see in the look on his face he thought it was over. 

I had a different reaction. 

I didn’t scream. I didn’t shed a tear. Having heard of the dreaded pops from other ACL injuries, I was in complete denial. I was convinced my kneecap just moved over and slipped back in place. I was convinced that they were wrong, that it was different. As I was lifted off the court, I completely believed this was not the end for me. 

In a way I didn’t yet understand, I was both so wrong and so incredibly right. 

Our team physician was called in to evaluate my injury. He began by performing an ACL screening test. As I laid with my back on the treatment table, he began by bending my right injured leg first. He then cupped his hands underneath my knee and pulled it towards him. I, having no idea what it was supposed to feel like, felt no pain and was further convinced I was fine.

Then he performed the same test on my left uninjured leg and I knew in a fraction of a second that the hard, strong, wall-like resistance I felt on my left was non-existent on my right. Just as quickly as I had denied an injury that would sideline me for the rest of the season– an injury that would burn my last chance at chasing a national championship with the remainder of my recruited class– I knew without a doubt I had torn my ACL and would be coming back without them the following year. 

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