Okay--this is actually from my book on coaching. I think that the stuff here is applicable beyond volleyball--across all sports. (But if you really like it...consider buying the book. It's not a collection of magic drills--it's about the more important, less considered points of coaching)
* * *
There
are a lot of misconceptions about coaching, from observers and
fans,
as well as by coaches themselves. There’s the presumption that a
high-level
athlete will automatically become a high-level coach. This is
not
a volleyball-specific observation. With the NFL, I’ve never seen a
highlight
with John Harbaugh or Bill Belichick playing, but they sure
seem
to know how to coach the heck out of their sport. How many World
Series
did Yogi Berra or Ted Williams win as managers? The answer:
a
lot fewer than guys with limited ability to play like Tony LaRussa or
Tommy
Lasorda. There is also the stereotype that coaches are just ‘dumb
jocks’
hoping to relive their glory days, but can you think of a successful
coach
who fits this stereotype in sports now? It’s difficult whether you
are
talking collegiate or professional coaches.
If
you are going to come up with synonyms for ‘coaching’, what do
you
think
of? The ones that pop into my mind: teach, instruct, educate.
Unfortunately,
many
people don’t equate coaching with those other words.
They
think of coaching … differently, as you can find out if you attend
your
average boys high school basketball game on any given Friday
night.
That’s too bad because coaching IS
teaching. What goes on in a
gymnasium,
when you are truly coaching, is no different than a classroom,
other
than the fact that there aren’t desks in a gymnasium, track,
or
soccer field. John Kessel, director of youth development for the US
National
Program, asks coaches, “Where’s your white board?” driving
home
the point that the gym is a classroom.
The
catch is that most coaches are conditioned to think otherwise.
We
buy into the belittling comments that ‘it’s just sports’ or
‘you’re just
a
coach’ and lose sight of the bigger picture (don’t worry, it’s
not like I
haven’t
done the same thing; it happens all the time). Except I can see a
protest
forming as you read this: “But, Jim, I’m not a teacher.”
That
doesn’t matter. We teach and learn all the time, and we don’t
have
to be a professional educator to do that (or a student on the other
end
of things), but if we think about some basic elements of education,
we
can improve our coaching. We should take what works in the classroom
and
use it in the gym.
I’m
not well-versed in educational theory, and a valid argument can
be
made that a lot of educational theory is best left as theory because
it
isn’t practical and doesn’t work with most groups of students.
That
hasn’t
stopped me from learning a few things and becoming dangerous
though.
To start with, as a coach, I think there are three different methods
of
teaching that work in a practice:
• Direct
Instruction
• Inquiry-based
Instruction
• Cooperative
Learning
DIRECT
INSTRUCTION:
Anyone
who’s been in school is familiar with ‘direct instruction.’ A
professor
stands at the front of a lecture hall, puts formulas and facts on
a
board via a PowerPoint, and students sit and take notes on what he
says.
When the hour is done, students close their notebooks and leave.
There’s
little effective interaction taking place with direct instruction,
perhaps
a question taken at the end of class. Otherwise, it’s up to the
student
to reach the proper conclusions or fit the pieces together on her
own.
In
the gym, how many times have you seen coaches stand and explain
a
skill with players circled around, the players doing nothing but
staring
at
the coach? Or the other variation of this — the players stand,
hands
on hips, as they watch the coach demonstrate the skill. In both
scenarios,
the players are passive, and though there’s a time and place
for
that, direct instruction doesn’t work as efficiently as other
available
strategies
though it does allow you to reach more people (the whole lecture
hall
of 500 or a gym full of campers).
Think
about your team and you as a coach. How many times have you
grumbled
to yourself that your kids don’t have patience? Exactly! Don’t
worry
— as coaches, we’ve all done it, but this is the big issue with
direct
instruction.
It is the least effective means of instruction for younger
students;
they are still learning patience and have trouble focusing on
instructions
for more than a few minutes at a time (if you are a parent,
you
understand this as well!). Take it a different direction. Think back
to
time in college. How many students were asleep during lectures? I’d
wager
a lot more than were sleeping through their chemistry labs.
There’s
another big problem with direct instruction, especially when
you
are coaching younger players. Imagine you are in a math class and
the
teacher is going over the Pythagorean Theorem. What if two students
have
already completed Calculus II and three others just started
introductory
multiplication and division? Direct instruction can’t deal
efficiently
with widely varied levels of ability. In terms of volleyball,
how
effective would it be to explain how to hit a quick set to a group of
players
where two are collegiate all-Americans, others are high schoolers,
while
several are starting their first day of volleyball ever? The
collegiate
athletes
have mastered the skill (relatively speaking), the high
schoolers
understand and now need the requisite practice with it, while
the
younger athletes will simply stare and go, “Bwah???”
So
I think the question becomes — how much do I, the coach, rely on
direct
instruction? Truthfully, I relied on it a ton when I started because
I
was insecure and wanted to prove to my players that I knew what I
was
talking about. Over the years, I’ve changed and I save the use of
direct
instruction
in practice for certain things like reviewing handouts on
team
rules or our schedule, etc., but generally things that don’t
require
critical
thinking and where the players all are on a level playing field.
I’ll
use it when we hold camps, too, but only for a few minutes until we
break
campers into significantly smaller groups of kids. So when you’re
evaluating
yourself, can you identify where you are using direct instruction?
Are
you matching the good points of this style to what you need, or
are
you using it out of habit?
INQUIRY-BASED
INSTRUCTION:
This
is one of the newer trends in education, and it’s one I liked using
when
I was a high school teacher though I didn’t know it had a
hoity-toity
name.
With inquiry-based instruction, the emphasis is on problem solving
and
critical thinking. It’s tougher than you realize; young people
are
conditioned at a young age to shut up, pay attention, and memorize,
memorize,
memorize, and that only stupid people ask questions. Emphasizing
standardized
tests has not helped. It’s not a new issue — an
early
’80s Doonesbury cartoon addressing this very issue. When I taught
U.S.
History, I preferred giving essay questions that required critical
thinking,
something like:
“There
are many reasons for the start of the Civil War. In your opinion,
which
were the more important factors, the economic, political, or social
issues?
Choose one and explain why it was more important.
Provide
concrete examples for your assertion.”
This
gave students a choice, and it forced them to think about their
answers,
though I’m not naïve; I’m sure many students chose based on
what
they knew the most about regardless of their belief, but that was
fine
because that required thinking, too, a realization of their limits
and
what
would/wouldn’t work for them. In a science classroom, I suspect
this
style of education is much more hands-on than in social studies
classrooms,
just not always. In college, I took a class called “Simulations
in
the Classroom” for Political Science that set up simulations based
on
this style of instruction (though again, I’m not sure Dr. Rasmussen
knew
the label for what he was doing), but went one step further. After
working
through problems, the class returned to the beginning and
went
through each step of the process, exploring how different individuals
and
different groups reached their decisions. Those class discussions
provided
fascinating insight into thoughts, not to mention how the
simulations
were designed to manipulate particpants’ actions.
But
can this work in a sports practice? Again, I was skeptical. After
all,
when coaching, young people need focus, they need specific tasks
and
goals assigned. How many drills have you pre-determined are lasting
for
100 tosses or 50 good passes or 20 kills? Look at basketball
practices;
for
the past 20 or 30 years, basketball coaches start the clock in
the
gym and run drills for a predetermined amount of time and woe be
to
God if they deviate from the schedule! Essentially, coaches have been
conditioned
to believe practices must be regimented and organized down
to
the last miniscule detail. We’ve been led to believe that the coach
is
the
center of practice and that without the coach in direct charge of
everything,
practice falls apart. To steal from an old poem, “The center
cannot
hold; mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.”
Except
it isn’t true. Oh, trust me, I spent years following the trend of
micro-managing
practices and details,until a couple of years ago. That
was
the point I realized — I’m an idiot. It started with a
presentation I
attended
at the American Volleyball Coaches Association’s annual convention.
The
presentation was by John Kessel, USA Volleyball’s Director
of
Sport Development. Kessel’s responsibility is improving coaching
at
all levels of the game, 'grow the game', and finding ways to
incorporate research from
other
avenues into the sport for the betterment of the game. I went in
to
his talk with the mindset that turning practice over to the players
and
an inquiry-based strategy was silliness, especially since my job as
a
college coach is to win (while developing better adults … the
reality is
that
few college coaches remain in their jobs if they lose more often than
win
over the years), and I was equally certain that it was foolhardy with
younger
players since they lacked the skills and knowledge to play the
game
at a high level.
One
hour later — and that’s all it took, one hour —I realized I
was
missing out. Worse still, I should’ve known better from past
experience
in
a gym (more on that in a bit). Kessel’s presentation took place on
a
demo court and for his demo players, he was coaching a dozen 12- and
13-year-old
girls of various experience levels. Over the next hour, he
showed
how inquiry-based theory works in a gym. He set up the basics
of
a drill and told the players to begin, ‘ignoring’ the players as
he talked
with
the attending coaches. Behind him, some of the girls caught on
right
away while others struggled. A-ha! It wasn’t working. But then
the
kids started trying different ways to work things out, started
talking
with
one another, and within 5 or 10 minutes, they had the knack of
things
and the drill proceeded smoothly. Once the drill was going well,
Kessel
stopped it and explained a more complicated drill before backing
out
again and allowing the players to figure it out themselves. If they
had
a question, he answered it, but otherwise he let them work unimpeded.
The
kids got it. Just as important — they liked it, you could see
it
on their faces. Only one hour of court time and there was an obvious,
tangible
look of accomplishment on many of the girls’ faces. I was
gobsmacked.
Not
only were those girls better on the court, he’d helped (if
only
in a small amount) increase those athletes’ self-confidence and
self-esteem,
which
is exactly what we are supposed to be doing as coaches of
young
people.
Just
as important, afterward, John spent another 30 minutes helping
coaches
work through various ways of implementing this sort of
approach
into practices, applying inquiry-based instruction with the
coaches
he spoke with, just in a different form. I appreciate what Kessel
did
because it offered rudimentary mentoring, it created peer
relationships
between
coaches, and though it wasn’t part of his seminar requirement, he
remained
to speak with those coaches above and beyond what was necessary. I
didn’t
dwell on that at the time though. I was kicking myself because I’d
seen
something similar years before when I was at Ohio State (though
again,
I don’t think Jim Stone was thinking in terms of tangible
educational
theory).
Jim
Stone didn’t organize practice with a clock or with set times in
mind;
instead, his practice plan was almost always written on the
front
half of a 3x5 index card. His logic was simple — if the drill is
going
well,
why stop it? If the drill is going poorly, why continue? Instead,
move
on to one you can succeed with. I’m simplifying it, obviously.
There
are
times as a coach you continue with a shaky drill to force players to
work
through a specific issue; there’s value in that, but Stone
understood
that
it was more important to keep players’ minds in the game. This next
part
should sound familiar. Many times in practice, Stone set the drill
up,
asked if there were questions, and then when the players started, he
backed
up and observed. In those drills, if a coach was involved, it was
only
to start play with a freeball or down-ball, otherwise, it was the
players
trying
to beat the drill and figure out what would bring success.
Over
those three seasons, Stone’s teams went 74-18 and in 1994, won the
Big
Ten
and made the Final Four. So why the heck did I blank that from my
mind when
I
became a coach? You imitate what you know and what works, yet I
blanked
those memories from my mind until Kessel’s presentation.
Now
I actively incorporate inquiry-based instruction into practice. I
set
a drill up, put challenges into the drill for the players to get
past,
then
sit back and observe. Sometimes I’ll take it further, and ask the
players
what they think we need to work on, what drills they think will
fix
problems or improve our team. When I did that this year, I was
surprised;
my
team didn’t shy away from hard drills, whether physically
or
mentally demanding. They enjoyed having input, and other than a
hiccup
in September, the program enjoyed its best season ever. Indeed,
I’ve
tried this approach with my club kids the past two seasons, and
used
it to teach them different systems of offense and defense, and I’ve
been
stunned at the results. We’re better physically — that comes with
practice,
but their real improvement has been mental. The players have
a
better understanding of what the opponents are doing, know what we
should
be doing, and no longer require constant coach input to act —
they
now show initiative. Better still, the athletes enjoy practice more
and
I’ve relaxed because I don’t need to nag or carp constantly. I
like it. I
just
wish I would’ve remembered Stone’s practices sooner or seen
Kessel
give
that presentation a decade ago. My bad.
COOPERATIVE
LEARNING:
You
see this in schools regularly. Teachers break a classroom down
into
small groups who then circle their desks and work together on a
project
as the teacher supervises, overseeing the groups work. As a
teacher,
this is more efficient as you only need to supervise a few groups
while
the students do most of the work. Ideally within a group, the
students
do
equal work, but that’s theory; reality doesn’t work quite as
well.
There will always be some who work harder than others. When
you
choose small groups, you hope for one of two things. If the students
are
of equal ability, they push one another to do quality work. If the
students
are of mixed ability, the teacher hopes that the better students
help
the weaker students, so that everyone is successful and can work
to
their strengths (which will get discussed a little bit down the
road).
When
I taught, I used cooperative learning in two projects, one on
music
and the other, “The Space Race” game. The music project involved
writing
a paper, research for information, listening to the appropriate
style
of music, and a group presentation with visual aids. This was done
so
that students with different skill-sets could work together; some
students
were
whizzes with PowerPoint and technology while others enjoyed
public
speaking, and still others were adept at regular research. I
never
assigned people to the various sections of the project. The groups
did
that on their own.
The
Space Race went further. Using a simulation called “Race to the
Moon,”
I modified it with my friend Dave for classroom purposes. We
then
took it a step further and made the simulation a competition between
his
classes (as the USA) and mine (in the role of the USSR), so that
the
students were required to cooperate within their group and across
the
other groups within their class (each represented a various
government
agency
or branch), so that at the end, success could be judged in
multiple
ways and we could dissect the value of cooperation. Indeed, at
points
in the simulation, the two opposing classes had to cooperate to
avoid
disaster, but were limited to communicating via emails relayed by
the
teachers. A decade later, many of our former students still remember
details
that I’ve forgotten, so that when they mention them, I smile,
nod,
and say “Oh, yeah, that was great.”
Without
thinking of the theory behind it, you’ve seen this used in gyms
before
and probably used it yourself. When you pair kids up to work on
a
skill, you’re using cooperative learning. Three-person over-the-net
pepper
— cooperative learning. It sounds silly, but even doing 6-on-6
freeball
drills falls within the definition of cooperative learning. Isn’t
that
the
ultimate purpose of a youth team, to learn values like cooperation?
The question
to
consider is whether you should let the kids pick their own groups or
if
you,
the coach, should. There’s value in each method, just as in
dividing
them
by skill level.
The
big issue I’ve had in the classroom or gym has been personality.
Some
kids have dominating personalities and regardless of skill, that
will
overwhelm a group. If the kid’s got a positive personality, it can
be a good thing
that
pushes her group to work harder which also means you probably
don’t
need to supervise them much. Unfortunately, negative personalities
have
the opposite effect and worse, left alone, they slowly wear
down
other kids who have reasonable work ethics.
Obviously,
the answer is to use all three of these methods. How you
do
that is up to you and what you feel your strengths and weaknesses
are
as a coach. Think of your role-models. Who are the best teachers you
remember
from school (best, not necessarily the ones you liked)? Which
coach
got the most effort from her players, regardless of skill level?
Don’t
hesitate
to talk to those coaches. Ask what their strategies were; the truly
great
coaches are happy to teach whether it is a junior high athlete, an
All-American,
or a fellow coach; they understand what USAV and the AVCA
are
attempting to do—grow the game. We do that with players and
coaches.
Fans,
too.
There’s
another part of education that’s important. I understood it
because
of my mom and sister before I learned the psychology of it. For
me,
school came easily. I never took notes. I sat, listened, and
distilled
the
essence of a lecture whether it was History, English, or Astronomy. I
don’t
know why I have that ability — I just do. My mom didn’t have that
though.
Neither did my step-father, so neither went on to school after
graduating
high school.
But
when I was in high school, my mom did start college. She got married
right
out of high school and after a divorce, returned
to
school. Because she hadn't worked hard in high school, Mom struggled
with
taking
notes during class and processing the information put on the
blackboard.
Instead,
she tape-recorded the lectures to play them back at home, listening
to
them
several times, stopping each time she didn’t understand something
to
check
her notes and the textbook. The process meant she put in 8 or 9 hours
daily
to get her work done. Being young and cocky, I taunted her with how
easy
classes came to me (something I regret now, but it was the callowness
of
youth).
I shouldn’t have. She found a strategy that worked for her. Four
years
later,
she graduated at the top of her nursing school class, earning her
BSN.
My mom, the valedictorian.
My
stepfather hated school, also, and after he died, I found two letters
from
his high school principal talking about his poor behavior and
attitude,
especially
in English classes. Disliking school, he went straight to work
before
owning his own automotive business. From the time he was five, he
loved
taking apart machines. Like most kids, he was better taking them
apart than
putting
them together, but eventually, he got good at putting them together
again.
Good enough that while I was off at college, he got tired
of
his Bronco’s performance, so he took it completely apart, and I
mean
completely.
He cleaned each part, replaced worn-out ones, and put that
vehicle
back together so that it looked and performed better than one
coming
off the Ford assembly line, and never needed to consult a manual to
do it.
Could
you do that? I sure as heck couldn’t — that was the work of a
mechanical
genius.
That’s more family detail than you probably want, but it
illustrates two
critical
points:
• There
are many different ways people learn and if we can combine those,
we’re
more
likely to be effective coaches and teachers.
• Success
has many different definitions and we must always be
aware
that how I define success as a coach may not be how a
player
defines success (or happiness for that matter).
Again,
I’m not an expert, but I have stayed at a Holiday Inn. I came
across
the theory and explanation for all this while teaching Psychology
(I
taught Psych because I admitted to taking two Psych classes in
college.
That made me more qualified than anyone else apparently). The
textbook
referred to it as VAT-K, an acronym referring to the three
primary
means of learning used by people: Visual, Audio, and
Tactile/Kinesthetic.
How
do you apply each of these in your practice?
VISUAL:
There
are some simple things you can do with visual. Have you
watched
video footage of your matches? Players are always intrigued to
watch
matches from a different perspective, and with modern editing
technology,
it is much easier to assemble footage relevant to players of
the
same position or even for a single individual. Have you considered
filming
practice? There is good software available for tablets of all types
that
allows you to film 30-60 second snippets and then play it back in
slow-motion
or with Madden-esque telestrator markings. Of course, you
also
have the traditional use of video: watching an opponent’s match
and
scouting them to figure out a strategy for an upcoming match.
The
problem with these visual strategies is that they require time,
which
is a precious commodity when you are teaching or have a regular
day-job,
or else they require manpower. It isn’t efficient for the head
coach
to focus on filming individuals during practice when you also have
to
keep an eye on anywhere from 10 to 30 other players. Do you have a
team
manager? Can players film one another? Do you have a parent you
trust
who is willing to help all players equally?
Another
less conventional alternative is visualization. Used by religion and
checked
by science, there are tangible positive results that
come
from visualization. Mike Hebert advocated this while at Illinois,
asking
his players to picture key game situations and their actions at
those
points in the match. In 2012, though I suspect my players don’t
remember
us doing it, I asked them to think about the Region Championship
match
and what they were going to do when we won. I emphasized
that
I wanted them to have it planned out so that we celebrated
right.
The catch with visualization though is whether the players take it
seriously.
That’s your judgment, but at least visualization doesn’t require
significant
resources and can be done in small doses, perhaps on a bus
before
a match or at the end of a practice.
AUDIO:
There’s
an old Greek saying, “We have one mouth and two ears, so
that
we may listen twice as much as we speak.” There’s truth to that.
We
learn a lot through our ears, whether it is listening to instructions
or
other sounds. If two players set back and forth over a net, a coach
can
tell
if they are doing well or not from the sounds of the ball contacting
the
players’ hands. You don’t need to see a home run hit; you can
hear
the
crack of the bat and the roar of the crowd to know something has
happened.
Listening is important, but how can you emphasize that other
than
repeating its importance over and over (losing your temper and
the
value of your words with each implored repetition to ‘LISTEN!!!’)?
With
high school and college kids, you reach the point where you can’t
be
all serious with them. They get tired, especially towards the end of
two-a-days
in the fall, and when they tire, things like communication
are
the first things to go. Consider changing drills to emphasize
communication.
I
like to do that in an absurd way when our communication
is
on the fritz.
We
play a game called “Oink, Moo, Woof.” It’s a normal 6-on-6
drill
where
you keep score (you can do it however you want actually), except
there’s
a catch. No one can talk or say anything, except for one of the
three
animal sounds. Team A will say ‘oink’ if they are going to pass
the
ball,
‘moo’ for a set, and ‘woof’ if they are hitting while Team B
switches
it
up, saying ‘oink’ for a hit instead. The two teams use the same
words,
but
for different purposes. If you don’t use your words or if you use
words
other
than oink/moo/woof, you lose the point. Pretty soon, you have hitters
trying
to woof multiple times to signal what they want to hit and
passers
will start mooing early if they know a freeball’s coming over the
net.
We can’t play it past a game to 15 because we wind up laughing, but
it
gets the point across concerning communication.
At
a recent seminar, Jim Moore, Head Coach at the University of Oregon,
dealt
with communication a different way. Because Oregon runs a fast
offense,
communication
is vital, so he limits his players to calling for a set with
a
single word. Middles don’t yell, “One! One! One!” They say it
once. You
can
use that, too. Restrict what can be said and players learn to listen
much
closer,
communicating quickly and efficiently the relevant information.
Just
as important for audio-learning, how loud are you in practice? If
you
are giving instructions, can your players hear you on the other side
of
the floor? What about on a second court? You can test this by setting
up
a tape recorder. Listen to it after practice — can you hear
yourself
clearly?
If you can’t, chances are the players didn’t hear you either,
creating
confusion
during practice, maybe frustration, but also a definite
loss
of efficiency. If volume is a problem, you can fix it easily —
encourage
your
players to say something if it wasn’t loud enough, and then
make
a conscious effort to be louder. That’s right; you need to practice
being
louder.
It
also sounds boring, but ask your players to repeat instructions
back,
forcing them to take what they’ve heard, process it, and
repeat
it, a mini-game of Telephone. If they struggle to repeat the
information,
you
need to repeat it or consider a different way of teaching
the
information, or consider the possibility that you must break the
information
into
smaller chunks.
Finally,
when I coached high school, I liked taking players to college
matches. Very few
top-level
college teams struggle with communication (at least from the
perspective
of high school coaches and athletes). If asked to watch the
communication
between players (or players and coaches) beforehand,
high
school athletes are shocked by the difference. I used to get feedback
such
as “They all talk all the time;” “Did you hear how loud she
called
for
that?” or “They get together and huddle after every point, not
just
celebrations.”
TACTILE-KINESTHETIC:
This
is the most obvious. People learn through touching and doing,
not
just watching and listening. Steve Kerr didn’t learn to hit treys
by
watching
the NBA on NBC and Peyton Manning didn’t become the best
quarterback
of the past 20 years by playing Madden 2014. They excel
because
they practiced their skills, hundreds and thousands of times.
The
more kids touch the ball, the faster they get better.
This
is a critical point and can help turn a team’s fortunes around
quickly.
What do you do in practice? Are you scrimmaging with one ball
in
play, 12 people playing and six standing on the sides? Are you
hitting
balls
at lines of diggers, so that one athlete is performing a skill while
17
stand
waiting for their turn?
We’ll
come back to the gym in a moment. For a second, think about
your
experience in math classes throughout grade, junior high and high
school
(sorry if this causes queasy stomachs or bad flashbacks). When
you
had math homework, did you just do one problem on a page? Dear
God,
no. Every day in math, Mrs. _______ sent you home with dozens of
math
problems. Is there anything less thrilling for a 15-year-old than
taking
home 14 geometry proofs for class the next day? But the reality
is,
the more you practice a skill, the better you get. You don’t get
good at
math
doing one problem per day, and you don’t get proficient at reading
by
ignoring your Lit book and only reading the day’s Far Side from a
calendar.
You
practice, you correct, you repeat, and eventually it becomes
ingrained—you
get it right so that being correct becomes the norm, automatic.
Back
to the gym. Sports are no different. If you can figure out how to
increase
the number of times your athletes touch the ball, the better
they
will get. Most volleyball coaches have used hitting lines in
practice.
How
can you improve that basic drill?
1.
Why not use two lines—one setter pushing it to the OH and the
other
setting quicks for the middle hitter or sets to the RS?
Now
you have two hitters going at the same time and two working
on
hitting while two are setting. This doubles the effective ball
contacts.
2.
What if you had hitters toss the balls to themselves and set the ball
to
the setters instead of just tossing the ball?
Now
we’re getting two ball-control touches in addition to the swings
and
sets. Without adding much time, we’ve added even more useful
contacts
to the drill.
3.
How about we move the lines of hitters to the other side of the net
and
start the hitter at the net. As the first in line tosses the ball,
the
hitter
comes off the net and sets the ball after it comes over the net,
then
hits the ball?
Now
suddenly, we’ve got setting, we’ve got hitting, we’ve got
transition
footwork,
and we’re playing a ball after it comes over the net.
Without
much extra delay, more contacts.
4.
Put a back-row player deep behind the hitter. The toss over the net
goes
to the passer, so the hitter must be ready for a potentially
worse
pass. If you worry about too many bad passes, have the coach
toss
directly to the setter if the ball is shanked.
Now
we’ve added a passer to make it more serve-receive like. We
can
rotate from tosser to passer to hitter and we now have a multitude
of
appropriate volleyball contacts. We haven’t added much
time
to the practice, but now we’ve got two lines of full volleyball
contacts
going, simulating serve-receive under controlled circumstances.
Essentially,
we’ve increased the number of contacts 50%
and
made them more game appropriate, and if you have players
with
enough skill, instead of tossing the ball over the net, they can
hit
down-balls. Better still, they could hit them from balls set to
them
by other players, yet again increasing the number of contacts.
We
can do this with any number of drills — when serving, put passers
on
the court and setters for the passers — because how often do you
serve
at an empty court during a game? Working on blocking? Why not
use
two blockers rather than one? Why not toss to a setter who possibly
sets
to multiple hitters — thus giving you hitting practice, not to
mention
a
more ‘real’ sense of the timing and issues blockers will face
during
a
game? Think of your practice and where you can add touches to
the
ball, footwork repetitions, anything, so that players are not
standing
and
watching unnecessarily.
John
Kessel writes a blog with good ideas in it, and I’ll be honest, I
“steal”
stuff from him on a regular basis. One of the great games he
explained
at the 2012 AVCA Convention is “Speedball,” an improved
version
of Queen of the Court. Queen of the Court has a winning side
and
when the winners lose, you lose time standing around as players run
under
the net to reach the winning-side. That’s lost time, not to mention
that
running under the net during a volleyball match never happens.
Speedball
puts multiple kids on both sides and requires that the losing
side
serve immediately after a point is over. It saves (roughly) five
seconds
between
plays and players are constantly ready, aware that the ball
will
come over immediately. Now you’ve got kids hustling, aware they’ll
lose
if not ready, you’ve got a server who has to immediately get on the
court
to play defense, and a dozen other little things — I won’t
mention
them
all because I think you get the point.
Once
you start increasing the reps, the skill level will improve. You may
not
notice it immediately; the change will be gradual, so keep it in mind
over
the long haul and enjoy the comments you get from people who
watch
your team because the praise from observers is as rewarding as that
huge
paycheck you earn.
As
a final observation regarding education, there’s an ongoing debate
regarding
the importance (or lack thereof) of class size for teaching
young
people. Some argue that there’s a link between academic success
and
improvement with small class size while the opposition argues that
the
link is far less important as issues such as teacher salary,
location,
or
the initial aptitude of students.
How
does that hold for something like volleyball? Look at the education
methods
discussed previously; how many of those are effective with
more
than 12-15 athletes at a time? How many athletes can you fit onto
a
court? And even then, if you can squeeze more kids onto a court, is
that
conducive
to their learning environment — have you tried to corral 25
excited
9-year-olds before? How many times can a player touch a ball?
This
was discussed earlier in terms of high school programs, but doesn’t
this
matter for club volleyball as well? How much playing time is there
if
we put 12 players on a team rather than eight? With a roster of
eight,
you’re
increasing playing time by 50% over a roster of 12 (presuming you
are
trying to do the right thing and give everyone who has joined your
team
a chance to play). The excuse for a larger roster that I hear is,
“The
value
is in practice, and during matches those players are learning as
they
watch.” Again, with eight instead of 12, you have more opportunity
to
touch the ball in practice and the coach’s attention is better
focused,
not
to mention the argument that learning-by-doing is often a superior
method
of improving physical skills. Is a club’s bottom line hurt? Sure,
because
you now have four less players per team and you’ll need more
coaches,
but isn’t the trade-off worth it? If the object is to provide the
best
possible instruction, it is our obligation as coaches to do our best
to
achieve
that.
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