Where It All Began
In The Beginning
My first love affair started in 1999 in Phoenix, AZ at St. Thomas the Apostle Catholic School on a little bench outside my sister Becca’s kindergarten classroom. I was three years old when my dad taught me to hold my volleyball platform. He sat on a little bench as I stood just three feet before him, so eager for him to toss that plush volleyball right onto my outstretched arms. As he tossed it, I bent my legs and gave a big swing. The ball flew down the hallway as I chased it tumbling down to the basketball court! I would fetch it and sprint back to him, giddy for another toss. My dad would always whisper to me ever so gently, “Now, Sarah, don’t swing your arms.” I remember his words so reverently. It’s a whisper I still hear to this day. My love for the sport of volleyball was born, and it became a way of life in our home.
From the myriad of club tournaments in Phoenix to winning three state championships at my high school alma mater, Veritas Preparatory Academy, I became obsessed with volleyball. That ball was at my side day and night. Volleyball had become a part of my DNA. If there was such a thing as a volleyball holster, that ball would have been strapped to my hip, and I’d be packing.
The True Meaning of TEAM
My obsession ultimately led me to a full-ride scholarship to college, first to LMU and then to UCLA, where we won two NCAA National Championships. What an incredible gift – a free education from two outstanding institutions and continuing to play the sport I love. The transition and expectations from club and high school sports to college came with an intense learning curve. The quality of coaching, the commitment to the sport and team, the pressure to win, the level of competition, the speed and power of the game. It was night and day, and I loved it, all of it. I couldn’t get enough.
I learned a lot from the transition from high school to college, but my biggest lesson had nothing to do with my volleyball skills but everything to do with character. The mindset was no longer about me; it was about my TEAM. It was about showing up, working hard towards a common goal, and asking ourselves daily, “How can I best serve my team?” One of my favorite coaches as a Bruin, Jenny Johnson Jordan, always pointed our team back to two key values I remember to this day:
- Every single person on the team has a specific role and value to bring to the team’s success.
- At the end of the day, when the last ball drops and we all walk off the court, it’s about the people and relationships you’ve built that you will remember the most.
Those years taught me the importance of developing “servant leadership.” I had to change my mindset from “ME” to “WE!” Through hard work and Jenny’s words in the back of our minds, they helped guide our team to numerous wins and two National Titles for the Bruins. I’ve come to believe that when you mix talent with humility, you’ve just created a very rare and unique recipe.
HUMILITY, SERVING OTHERS, WE BEFORE ME, CHARACTER, DOING THE RIGHT THINGS WELL.
Living by these truths wasn’t always easy, but I knew they would guide me well as I entered the next chapter of my life as a pro volleyball player. As I grew in servant leadership, I had no idea I was being led by the one person in the world who did it perfectly and would lead me to discover a greater purpose in my life. I wouldn’t find out who that special person was until after I reached my Olympic dream.
Olympic Size Revelations
From age 3 to my appearance on the Olympic stage at 24, I committed myself to being a passionate student of the game. While in class, at school, in church, or on vacation, my thoughts were on volleyball at every waking, and sleeping, moment! This obsession drove me to the pinnacle of sports – the Olympics.
From age 3 to my appearance on the Olympic stage at 24, I committed myself to being a passionate student of the game. While in class, at school, in church, or on vacation, my thoughts were on volleyball at every waking, and sleeping, moment! This obsession drove me to the pinnacle of sports – the Olympics.
2020 was a weird year in so many respects because of Covid-19. The Olympic Games would be delayed an entire year, and the world was waiting to see who would represent USA women’s beach volleyball. The pressure was on. The race to secure one of the two coveted Olympic spots made every training and match urgently important.
About a month leading up to the Games, my partner, Kelly Claes and I got the news that we stamped our ticket to Tokyo! I had no time to process or celebrate; it was go time! I couldn’t believe I was about to do something only a fraction of all the athletes in the world get to experience. At age 24, I was just one year older than one of my heroes, Misty May-Treanor, was in her 2000 debut.
After arriving in Japan, taking in the sights and saying “konnichiwa,” to virtually everyone I met, a defining moment occurred on July 27, 2021. We were 1-0 in pool play and training at the volleyball venue before our upcoming match against Kenya the following day. Emotions, adrenaline, and nerves were flaring and on full display. As my partner and I were about to start our training, I was stopped by Gaudencia, one of the members of Team Kenya. She came up to me with a soft, warm smile, and she pulled a bracelet from her bag and placed it in my hand. I thought, “A gift?”. The word “KENYA” was boldly displayed across the bracelet, handmade from beautiful beads in the colors of the Kenyan flag – red, black, and green. I smiled and gave her a big “Thank You” as I tucked it in my bag before starting our training. It was one of the quickest interactions I’ve ever had with a fellow athlete, but undoubtedly, the most impactful one from my Olympic experience. A seemingly simple gesture at the time, but one with a very profound impact and one that I’ve relived over and over.
We ended up getting the win against Gaudencia and her teammate Brackcides the following day, but it wasn’t the win over Team Kenya that captured my attention. As the days and months passed, that simple gesture of a gift got me thinking. Here I am in the most crucial, highly intense, and competitive environment you can be in, the Olympics, but that soft smile, that act of kindness right before facing off in the arena, took me aback; it left me in bewilderment! In my mind, it was war. It was blood. We aren’t friends, we are competitors. But the look she gave me, along with that beautiful gift, made me think otherwise. Sport looked different in her eyes. It looked joyful, happy, full of gratefulness and love, love for her competitors, love for the opportunity at hand. As I sat for days and months reflecting on that gesture, I craved to see “sport” through her eyes.
We ended up taking 7th place in Tokyo. Right when my feet left the sand I was met with utter disappointment. As I was packing my bags for the airport, I was just thinking to myself, “Is that it?” The dream I’d had since I was 12 years old just came and vanished so quickly. What I thought would have been the pinnacle of my career felt more like the deepest darkest valley I could have ever imagined.
As I boarded the plane back home to LA, I carried with me all of these questions; Why do I feel so unfulfilled? Why do I feel so empty? What do I do now? At 40,000 feet up in the air, the anxiety was so debilitating that I had to get up and decompress in the airplane restroom. I closed the latch on the door, and the light came on. Staring into the mirror, it was just Me vs Me, one on one. I was on the verge of tears, with these questions still flooding my head. I started remembering a couple of moments in those brutal months leading up to the Olympics, lying in my bed, crying silently out to God, “Why do I feel this way? I have everything I always wanted. I’m competing amongst the best in the world. God, what do you want me to do? Help me!” In the past when those feelings would arise, my mom comforted me with God’s truths and reminded me of His love, and I felt the anxiety melt away and was more comforted than ever. But I would fall asleep, forget about it, and get right back on the hamster wheel as before.
As I stared into that mirror with all those visions and memories reappearing, I burst into tears again, and pleaded to Jesus for help! Call it a “Come to Jesus Moment” or whatever. I knew I could no longer weather this storm of emptiness by myself. Almost immediately after I called on Him, a sense of calm, comfort, and clarity came right over me. It was at that moment that I realized that Jesus was my answer, He was my special person.
Volleyball had consumed my life up until that point, but I realized it wasn’t my sole purpose anymore. I wasn’t created just to win games or championships. Deep down, I knew there was something more. In this little airplane bathroom where I turned to Jesus, He showed me that my identity wasn’t in a sport but in Him. While volleyball comes and goes, Jesus is eternal and forever good. He gave me a sense of purpose that goes beyond the court. Now, I play volleyball with a new perspective, knowing that my true victory is in Him.
A New Beginning
“…train yourself to be godly. For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.”
