We should have been done by now. We should have already been the champions and I should be sitting on my suitcases in order to zip them up for home. Instead, we are down 1-2 to a team less talented than we are, but who is fighting for it more.
This means at most there are still five days left of peak concentration on all things Turkish volleyball. If we want a chance for the championship, we must win on Tuesday on our home court. Then, the final battle will resume on Thursday with the last whistle dishing out confetti and a shiny cup to one side or the other.
To give you a bit of background, our first match last Tuesday at home we lost 2-3. Ridiculous, considering we were up 21-16 in the fourth set that should have clinched it. Next match was at 8pm Friday in Fenerbahce’s gym, and we came out on fire, beating them easily 3-0. The next day we played at 3:30 (quick turn around) and couldn’t figure out how to play hard and together on a bad day, thus winning only the second set. Also, I found out later that Fener has finished second to Eczacibasi in the finals the past two years, so it is no wonder that this third time around their hunger could be mistaken for rabies. (foaming mouths, anyone?)
Yesterday two of our star players had bad nights—a rare occurrence. What’s not so rare, I’m discovering, is the negative spirit that seeps into this group. We had a small gathering at our place after where we all overindulged on various cheesy Turkish entrees, tea, nuts, and strawberries (good thing we ignored the call for chocolate). We ate, we talked, and many smoked. Of course I understand that some venting can be good and necessary in order to break it free from bouncing around in one’s head (I, too, could fill a page with all that, people). However, when the verbal bashing of fellow teammates and coaches is incessant, inviting others to join in linking those same, not present people as the source and cause of all their problems, the outlook for a positive turn around is slim.
Who knows. Maybe in this professional arena, this is the norm. Maybe somehow each one might be able to find a way to be great these next two matches, because their focus, their motivation lies elsewhere. I get that. Because that’s where my mind is headed.
How can you believe in a group where there is no trust, no unity? This is different from my previous experiences with both Nebraska and USA, where there has always been an important and wonderful element of team unity to rally behind. Of course it wasn’t crack-free, but there was effort to maintain it at least. I see any unity we had here unraveling quickly with no action being taken from within to hold it together.
I’ve spoken up here and there, especially with Esra, but the reality is that I am a rookie. Not only do I get that my voice doesn’t hold much power, especially to the veterans, but I also feel I should just listen and observe more than speak this time around. The game of volleyball and its team dynamics are different overseas, in Turkey. Like I said, maybe this is the norm, and so this year I will observe and learn. Next year…. Well, that’s a different story—one to consider more after the coming final whistle.
So for now my focus can be boiled down to two words: FINISH STRONG. There is too much going awry that I can’t control, but what is most important is that I finish the fight exhausted, having given everything I could to being my very best. These last two matches I have been focused on ramping up the competitive fire that is my game but that has been dwindling lately. It has felt better recently, and I want to continue to bring who I am, the one who believes, loves the battle, and who wants the ball when the game is on the line. I want to finish with her on the court. Heck, she could even be on the bench, as long as I can walk away knowing I honored my God, the giver of my talents, with what I gave back to Him.
I WILL FINISH STRONG.
This means at most there are still five days left of peak concentration on all things Turkish volleyball. If we want a chance for the championship, we must win on Tuesday on our home court. Then, the final battle will resume on Thursday with the last whistle dishing out confetti and a shiny cup to one side or the other.
To give you a bit of background, our first match last Tuesday at home we lost 2-3. Ridiculous, considering we were up 21-16 in the fourth set that should have clinched it. Next match was at 8pm Friday in Fenerbahce’s gym, and we came out on fire, beating them easily 3-0. The next day we played at 3:30 (quick turn around) and couldn’t figure out how to play hard and together on a bad day, thus winning only the second set. Also, I found out later that Fener has finished second to Eczacibasi in the finals the past two years, so it is no wonder that this third time around their hunger could be mistaken for rabies. (foaming mouths, anyone?)
Yesterday two of our star players had bad nights—a rare occurrence. What’s not so rare, I’m discovering, is the negative spirit that seeps into this group. We had a small gathering at our place after where we all overindulged on various cheesy Turkish entrees, tea, nuts, and strawberries (good thing we ignored the call for chocolate). We ate, we talked, and many smoked. Of course I understand that some venting can be good and necessary in order to break it free from bouncing around in one’s head (I, too, could fill a page with all that, people). However, when the verbal bashing of fellow teammates and coaches is incessant, inviting others to join in linking those same, not present people as the source and cause of all their problems, the outlook for a positive turn around is slim.
Who knows. Maybe in this professional arena, this is the norm. Maybe somehow each one might be able to find a way to be great these next two matches, because their focus, their motivation lies elsewhere. I get that. Because that’s where my mind is headed.
How can you believe in a group where there is no trust, no unity? This is different from my previous experiences with both Nebraska and USA, where there has always been an important and wonderful element of team unity to rally behind. Of course it wasn’t crack-free, but there was effort to maintain it at least. I see any unity we had here unraveling quickly with no action being taken from within to hold it together.
I’ve spoken up here and there, especially with Esra, but the reality is that I am a rookie. Not only do I get that my voice doesn’t hold much power, especially to the veterans, but I also feel I should just listen and observe more than speak this time around. The game of volleyball and its team dynamics are different overseas, in Turkey. Like I said, maybe this is the norm, and so this year I will observe and learn. Next year…. Well, that’s a different story—one to consider more after the coming final whistle.
So for now my focus can be boiled down to two words: FINISH STRONG. There is too much going awry that I can’t control, but what is most important is that I finish the fight exhausted, having given everything I could to being my very best. These last two matches I have been focused on ramping up the competitive fire that is my game but that has been dwindling lately. It has felt better recently, and I want to continue to bring who I am, the one who believes, loves the battle, and who wants the ball when the game is on the line. I want to finish with her on the court. Heck, she could even be on the bench, as long as I can walk away knowing I honored my God, the giver of my talents, with what I gave back to Him.
I WILL FINISH STRONG.
No comments:
Post a Comment