SANDCAST: Beach Volleyball with Tri Bourne and Travis Mewhirter

It was somewhere in the space between the Gstaad Major and the Espinho four-star when the façade came crashing down. How long had it been since Sarah Sponcil had decompressed? Relaxed? Reflected on all that had happened in her life in the past six blurs of months? In that span, she and Lily Justine, her partner at UCLA, established themselves as the best No. 2 NCAA beach pair in the country. In May, the Bruins repeated as NCAA champions. Days later, Sponcil was on a flight with Kelly Claes, her professional partner, to Itapema, Brazil, for an FIVB four-star where they’d play Kerri Walsh Jennings and Brooke Sweat in a country quota. They lost in 28 minutes. “It’s such a surreal fast-paced experience,  national championship to pro in three days, trying to adjust my game to match the opponents, the best in the world,” Sponcil said when she and Claes joined us on SANDCAST: Beach Volleyball with Tri Bourne and Travis Mewhirter. “I’m just speechless when I’m asked that question. You’re never ready. You never know what you’re really doing and if I didn’t (go for the Olympics), I’d regret it for the rest of my life.” On the outside, though, it very much appears as Sponcil is ready for all of this, as if she has keeping up with her rapidly-changing world, no problem. She and Claes rebounded from Itapema with four straight top-10 finishes, including a ninth at the FIVB World Championships. They didn't just look like they knew what they were doing. They made it look -- dare we say? -- easy. On top of all of that, in Warsaw the week before, while the rest of Sponcil’s teammates and classmates at UCLA were walking across the stage back home, Sponcil and Claes put on a comical photo shoot of Sponcil “graduating,” cap and gown included, diving for a ball on the sand. It can all look so glamorous sometimes -- the world traveling, the funny Instagrams, the hilarious videos of them running through airports and Sponcil walking around the world doing handstands -- that it’s easy to forget that she’s never done any of this before. “Sometimes I can’t even wrap my head around how stressful this year has been for her,” Claes said. “I think back to my first season coming out of college. We finished the USA Pairs Championship and jumped on a flight to Rio. We jumped on the world tour and it was so stressful and we had so many new things coming at me and I felt like my head was spinning and on top of that it’s an Olympic qualifying year for her.” And then, after dropping in the qualifier in Gstaad, now two months on the road with stops in Portugal, Tokyo, Vienna, and Moscow still looming, Sponcil let down her guard. “Sarah sent me a text to come outside and she’s balling,” Claes said. “And I’m like ‘OK, we’re doing this.’” They’re a fun-loving duo, Claes and Sponcil. They’re goofy and happy and wildly talented, two of the top players in the country despite being in diapers when Kerri Walsh Jennings, who they’re trying to beat out for the 2020 Olympics, was making her Olympic debut on the beach. But they are -- in spite of how magnificently tailored their lives may look at times -- human. Three months on the road is a monumental task for a human being, much less one who had never done any of this before. Full-time World Tour, Olympic race, figuring out flights and hotels and meals and how in the world to survive this thing. “Honestly, I felt like I had nothing together,” Sponcil said. “I was missing home, I felt like I was trying to change so many different things in my game, and you can’t change a whole lot and still feel like you’re playing free. Everything was just crazy in my mind, and definitely had some teary moments, and I was just honest with Kelly and open and vulnerable and I was like ‘I am not OK right now.’ “To get closer you have to be vulnerable in those positions and it sucks to acknowledge that you don’t have it all together, especially coming off of college where you had everything. You did so well and now you’re being pushed in ways you didn’t think you could be pushed because you won a month ago, on cloud nine, and now it’s ‘Oh, shiz.’ “But Kelly had been in the same position and her listening to me means everything. It was a step in the right direction to know if we win, we lose, whatever, we’re still in this together, and that’s really powerful. That was a huge moment for us.” Claes may be the perfect partner for Sponcil, old enough to have done this for three years now, young enough to still be able to fully empathize with where Sponcil is in life. Perhaps that explains why, once considered underdogs by many in this race, these two are eighth in the world in the Olympic ranks and third in the U.S. They trail only April Ross and Alix Klineman and Walsh Jennings and Brooke Sweat, with another 12 or so events -- depending on what they want to play -- left in the qualification period. Theirs is a chemistry wholly unique to them. Last October, Claes was still unsure with whom she was going to partner for this run. She and Walsh Jennings played a few events, and when Walsh Jennings turned to Sweat, Sponcil turned out to be an easy decision. “Chemistry is huge for me. So that’s why when Sarah and I initially started talking I was leaning towards her,” she said. “Once we started talking and hanging out and training together, I was like ‘Shoot, we line up on so many things.’ I get that a lot of people see a partnership as more of a business but I think it’s important to have that chemistry. There’s so much time off the court.” On flights, they write rap songs together, which they debuted, hilariously, terribly, on SANDCAST. How much fun they can have off the court allows them to play free and creative on it, allowing them to stretch their full skillsets without fear of making mistakes. “We had a flight from Czech to LA, and literally the entire flight we wrote songs,” Sponcil said. “The lady was like ‘Do you want something?’ and we were like ‘No! We’re working on something!’” Indeed they are. They’re working on an Olympic run. A full album of songs. How to get from one place to the next, be it in the air or on the ground. They’re figuring this thing out, Claes and Sponcil, and the first step to doing so is acknowledging that they have absolutely nothing figured out. “You’re trying to force yourself to figure it out, whether it’s transportation or strategy in a game. It’s so different than in college and I think when you accept that you’re never going to have it all figured out and just accept it -- moral of the story, we don’t have it figured out,” Sponcil said. “So don’t try to figure it out. Delayed flights, canceled flights -- just smile and wave. We’ll somehow find our way to the next destination, we just don’t know how yet.”

29 Loka 20191h 8min

There was a time – a very brief time in the middle of a jet-setting, globe-trotting season – where Kelley Larsen had the correct count of how many tournaments she and Emily Stockman had played at that point in the year. “We did count at one point,” Larsen, an Olympic hopeful with Stockman, said on SANDCAST: Beach Volleyball with Tri Bourne and Travis Mewhirter. “We did a certain amount in a row, we did – what was it? – ten back to back in a row. Ten in a row. I think that was our longest stretch. I don’t know how many tournaments it was this year. I think I lost count halfway through.” It’s easy to do when you’ve had a year like Larsen and Stockman. The official count, at the moment, with two more tournaments to play, is 19 tournaments in all – five AVP, 13 FIVB, one NORCECA. It has included competition in 13 countries, with a third trip to China coming up next week and a first to Mexico a week after that.   “LAX is our home,” Larsen said, laughing. “It was a lot of travel this year. We were gone six or seven weeks straight at one point and then before and after that we would be at a tournament overseas then come back for a tournament, be home for a few days, and we’d be back and forth. So ever since May, we’ve been gone the majority of the time.” They knew they were getting themselves into this, Larsen and Stockman. When they both broke it off with their respective partners prior to the onset of the Tokyo race, they knew that international volleyball was the priority, that the Olympics were the goal, and that being anywhere from moderately to severely jet lagged would be the new default. “I knew her work ethic was already incredible,” Stockman, a Colorado native, said. “Every time I was in the gym she was there, so I knew she was working hard. But to sit down and be like ‘Our goals all align,’ that was huge for me.” For the most part, everything has seemed to align for Stockman and Larsen this season, both on the court and off. On the court, they won an enormously valuable silver medal at the Warsaw Four-Star and then followed it up with a win at AVP Seattle, Stockman’s first AVP victory. Off the court, their quiet yet warm, independent but caring personalities meshed perfectly. During downtime on the road, Stockman would wander for a good coffee shop; Larsen would take a walk. At home, Stockman retreats to the mountains, Larsen, somehow, still to the beach. And then they’re back at it, on the beach with coach Evie Matthews or in the gym with their new trainer, an ass-kicking, no-nonsense man recommended by Matthews.  “There’s a lot of teams that sort of started breaking down a little bit and we felt good throughout the year,” Larsen said. “I think a lot of that is due to what we were doing in the gym, just conditioning wise. And all of our training was specific to you and to volleyball. Every movement we do in the gym is very related to volleyball and has a purpose for why we’re doing it. “His workouts are killer. You get your butt kicked and you don’t lift a single weight. It’s bizarre. It’s definitely helped us conditioning wise in matches this year.” They have but a few matches left, in China for an upcoming Three-Star in Qinzhou and then a Four-Star in Chetumal, Mexico. Then Stockman will take to the mountains, Larsen to the beach and planning her wedding with Manhattan Beach semifinalist Bill Kolinske. And then, before they know it, season will begin again. And they’ll be back on planes, back to their passports getting tattooed regularly, back in their new home-away-from-home: LAX. “We’re like the Brazilians now,” Stockman said. “Just nonstop.”

23 Loka 20191h 7min

Of all the indelible moments we’ve had on SANDCAST these past two years – and there have been countless many, with massive lifetime milestones from both Tri Bourne and I – none stood out quite like the moments after our latest podcast, which published today. For the first year and a half, our typical post-show routine was a bit collegeish: We’d barbeque, drink a few beers, watch some football or a documentary or YouTube. Sometimes Trevor Crabb would come over and hang. Gabby Bourne, Tri’s amazing wife and resident ‘Pod Mama’ as we’ve affectionately dubbed her, would invariably be present, joining the boys. It’s not that those days are over, but things have certainly changed. After we recorded the show on Monday, an exasperated Pod Mama walked upstairs, a crying newborn Naia Zuri Bourne in tow. She passed him off to Tri, and now instead of cradling a Kona or a small glass of red, he was cradling his infant. Listening to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Anything to put Naia to sleep. Life comes at you fast. “That evolution of where I was, and all of the things that have happened since then, it all started with the SANDCAST,” he said, and he did say this jokingly, because, obviously, there are a lot more important things that have been changing the direction of Bourne’s life. But the podcast, in its 110th episode, has been there to document it all. It was there, on episode one, to document Bourne when he was deep in the throes of his now-famous autoimmune disease. “The New Tri Bourne: Buddha Tri Bourne,” is what we dubbed that episode, which, in retrospect, is a funny name, because now that is such an old version of Tri Bourne it hardly seems to exist anymore. That Tri Bourne wasn’t allowed to sweat – “I wanted to sweat,” he said, “but I literally wasn’t allowed to.” He wasn’t allowed to jump, or to lift weights, or to play the sport that is his lifeblood and his way of life, how he supports his growing family. Now he’s ranked No. 1 in the Olympic race among American teams. “Yeah,” he said, “that is crazy.” The podcast was there to document the publication of my first non-fiction book, We Were Kings, just as it was there to document my first main draw, in Austin of 2018 with Raffe Paulis. It was there to document Bourne’s return to beach volleyball, in Manhattan Beach of 2018, which seemed to just be a one-off with his buddy Trevor Crabb, but then it became more. It became a partnership for the next event, in Chicago, where they finished fifth, and the next, in Hawai’i, where they beat Phil Dalhausser and Nick Lucena and took third. Now, should they continue to play well on the World Tour, they could be Olympians in Tokyo in eight months. With an extra fan, Naia Bourne, cheering him on from phone. With a podcast to document the journey, as it has for the last two years. “In this situation,” Bourne said of the year-and-a-half in which his autoimmune disease sidelined him, “I had to rethink it all. I was like ‘Alright, all I know is, I want to come out of this better than I was before.’ So I just planned it out. Assuming I was going to get better, I had to stay solid to that mindset: ‘Ok, I’m going to get better, I’m going to get back to where I was, what do I want to have gained from this?’” He has gained more than he could have ever imagined. He’s switched partners, switched positions, switched roles in life from a newlywed to a dad of a baby girl. He’s written a forward for a book, come back from an autoimmune disease and, remarkably, recorded a career-high finished at World Championships, claiming fourth with Crabb in Hamburg, Germany. Meanwhile, when Tri and I launched the podcast, I didn’t own a passport. By the end of this year, I’ll have been to 10 countries. Life takes you places. This sport takes you places. And gosh is it fun to have a podcast to record every step of the ride.

16 Loka 20191h 4min

It took a matter of weeks for Lee Feinswog to rebound from being laid off. Not a month had gone by from the moment he received a call from the higher-ups at Turner, for whom he freelanced to write college volleyball stories on NCAA.com, when he began scrolling through his phone, idea and contact in hand. His passion for writing about the sport came as a surprise, even to him. Here was a guy who had covered LSU basketball in the Shaq days, who had written about the highest levels of the NBA, MLB, who ran in circles with some of the best writers in the country – and he was smitten by college volleyball. It’s possible that it was the novelty of it, at the time. He had watched his first men’s match only a year before, a semifinal of the NCAA Championship where, as fate would have it, he sat next to Hugh McCutcheon, then the head coach of the women’s national team and one of the most brilliant minds in the game. “I learned more that day than you could possibly imagine,” Feinswog said on SANDCAST: Beach volleyball with Tri Bourne and Travis Mewhirter. A few days later, he found himself in Anaheim, watching the women’s team practice at the invitation of McCutcheon. But Turner, which owned NCAA.com, was bleeding money, and the first to go were the freelancers, including Feinswog. McCutcheon, though, wasn’t the only contact Feinswog had made at that semifinal. He had also exchanged contact information with the editor at Volleyball Magazine, Aubrey Everett. “All of a sudden, I was like, ‘Wait, I sat next to the editor of Volleyball Magazine,’” Feinswog recalled. “I sent her a note and said ‘I’m a free agent, can you use me?’ “You guys have never seen Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid but it’s kinda like where he goes, ‘Well, considering I’m desperate and you’re exactly what I need…’ so I picked up with the magazine and wrote for them for four, five six years as a freelance writer.” Despite holding what was basically a monopoly over volleyball coverage, the magazine wasn’t immune to the downsizing of the journalism industry as a whole. The print edition was shrinking, circulation was down, the website was limited. Simply put: It wasn’t going to last long. Feinswog knew this, as did Ed Chan, who had subscribed to the magazine for more than 40 years and had been one of its most reliable freelance photographers. They agreed that, when the magazine hit a certain threshold of pain, it would be willing to sell. They’d be the ones to buy it.   “It got to that point,” Chan said. “So I asked if they were interested in selling, and they said yes.” It was the simplest of business negotiations, almost to comical levels. Feinswog was driving down I-10 in Houston. Chan called and said “We can buy volleyball magazine, you want to buy it?” “Ok, sure.” “That was it,” Feinswog said, laughing. “That was our business negotiation. And that’s how we became publishing magnates.” He says this jokingly, but on a relative scale, Volleyball Magazine – since renamed VolleyballMag.com in Feinswog’s and Chan’s ownership of the publication – is without a doubt the most reliable and regular source of news coverage on all things volleyball, be it beach, indoors or otherwise. Their goal was to become the daily digital news source of volleyball, which is exactly what has happened. They cover college women. They cover college men. They cover the pros, to the point that Feinswog watched every single match during the 2016 Rio Olympics. Not just every American match. Every match. “And then I was like, ‘Wait, now college is about to start?’” he said. They have covered the AVP and the NVL and the World Series of Beach Volleyball and p1440 and CBVA and every other iteration of professional volleyball there has been on the beach. They have covered the college game. And while competitor sites such as Volleymob and FloVolley have either shrunk or folded, VolleyballMag has grown and expanded at an impressive, if not staggering, clip. The number of stories that are read through organic Google searches has exploded by 800 percent in the four years they’ve owned it. They’ve hired freelancers to cover whatever the two of them cannot, expanding to juniors and even to Brazil. It was Feinswog who named the very podcast on which he told this story. Yes, SANDCAST: Beach volleyball with Tri Bourne and Travis Mewhirter was as much Feinswog’s creation as it was Bourne’s and Mewhirter’s. Now a new chapter of VolleyballMag.com begins, as the magazine – “magazine” used loosely here, since there is no longer a print edition – has been acquired by p1440, equipping them with the resources they’ve long needed but haven’t possessed. “It’s amazing really,” Chan said. “It’s kind of like making the transformation from being a garage band to getting a recording contract. We had all these ideas. We wanted to expand to juniors. We wanted to expand to Brazil. Normally we would be ‘OK, how are we going to pay for this? Who are we going to get to buy into this? How are we going to promote it?’ With p1440, if they see it as a viable idea, they greenlight it and we go with it.” “There is a vision,” Feinswog added. “There is an expectation of greatness on a tremendous scale. All I can tell you is you’re going to see more amazing things not just on VolleyballMag.com but from p1440.”

9 Loka 20191h 19min

Kevin Barnett has never been required to do just about anything he does in his current chapter of life. He doesn’t need to be out there on stadium court, swinging a homemade hammer at miniature volleyballs into a crowd of thousands. He doesn’t need to make art for the Amazon Prime set that becomes his home away from his Redondo Beach home for four months out of the year. He doesn’t need to dress up in gold and do the goofy dizzy bat skits and the shows at the technical timeouts. Just as he hasn’t needed to host a volleyball show called the Net Live on – most, as his and Jeremy Roueche’s joke goes – Mondays for the previous decade. He hasn’t needed to do any of that, though this is only partially true. From a work standpoint, he hasn’t. Amazon never told him to do anything, really – “I can basically do whatever I want,” Barnett said on SANDCAST: Beach volleyball with Tri Bourne and Travis Mewhirter. But his mind did. Two-time Olympians do not simply retire onto beach chairs and Coronas. And when Barnett retired from professional volleyball in January of 2006, not by choice but by the unrelenting demands of ticked off knees, he grew restless, and fast. He and his wife, Arian, flipped roles. She put her MBA to use and went to work while Kevin watched the kids, two boys then ages two and four. “My life,” he said, “was goldfish and sandwiches.” Which is fine, even idyllic, for a great many people. But Olympic athletes are wired differently. Their entire lives, up to that point, are predicated on solving problems, improving, beating out another guy for the spot – “suiting up with the mindset to go kill somebody,” Barnett said. There were days he’d sit there with the boys and think “‘Bro, I used to be somebody!’” he said. “Internally, I’m like I used to do something that people valued, and now I’m like ‘What am I doing here?’ There’s one night that sticks out. I was back in my former rental house in Redondo, and there was a bunch of moving boxes back there, and the moving boxes paid for my frustrations. I don’t know what the neighbors thought. I was spiking balls on an Olympic court a year ago and now what am I doing?” What he did was get back to work, not on anybody’s else’s terms but his own. What he did was create value where value was needed. His love for volleyball hadn’t waned; the only problem was, well, how in the world do people follow volleyball? If Tom Brady sneezes, ESPN reports on it. But if Reid Priddy sprains an ankle and is put on the bench for a few weeks, nobody knows why. “There was no talk between events, and on the indoor side in particular, the World League is happening every week,” Barnett said. “If you’re watching World League every week, you don’t know why the roster changes happen from one week to the next. You don’t know if somebody’s hurt. You don’t know if somebody’s trying to decide a spot. There’s no chatter.” And so began the next season of Barnett’s life: A season of creating. He, alongside Priddy, Dan Madden, and Chris ‘Geeter’ McGee, created a show, The Net Live, which would report on all things volleyball most Mondays out of the year. Together, they brought an element of news and entertainment that volleyball had never previously enjoyed, while Barnett began honing the skill set that would become his next career – announcing, hosting, analyzing. Creating. “My volleyball acumen and personality gave me a shot at being an analyst,” he said. “That was a hobby, not a career.” The Net Live, in essence, gave him the reps he needed to turn that hobby into a career. For three years, he stuck with it, adding Roueche to the team in 2011 after McGee left for a job with the Lakers and Priddy continued his professional playing career. Those reps, in part, earned him a shot at the London Olympics calling matches, which earned him a two-way with Dan Patrick, which earned him job offers as a studio host discussing high school football and a gig with ESPN.    Kevin Barnett had himself a new career, born out of creating something where there was previously a void, creating something that nobody told him he needed to do but he just did it anyway, because that’s how things get done.   “Volleyball needed it,” he said of The Net Live. “And I needed it. You have to bring value. That’s what you have to do.” And after 10 years, The Net Live has run its course. Roueche didn’t even intend to be on the show anyway. “I got duped,” he joked on SANDCAST. Priddy had initially asked him to be the sound guy, adding musical elements to the show, occasionally piping in with the one-liner here and there. But then Priddy left and Geeter was gone, and it was just Barnett and Roueche, a creator in his own right as the AVP’s longtime DJ, doing their thing.   “I would just make fun of people once in a while,” Roueche said. “Then they all started dropping like flies and then it was just Kevin and I.” Though The Net Live will soon be finished, their work as partners is not. Barnett is the lead Amazon announcer for the AVP’s livestream; Roueche the DJ. It’s Roueche’s booth that Barnett retreats to when he’s not on the mic. So they’ll continue to innovate. Barnett, after successfully implementing the whimsical Hammer Award, which earned a sponsor and became a surprising new source of revenue, is adding a Shield Award. He’ll keep decorating the sets with his own artwork, because that’s just what Barnett does: He creates value where some might not even have known it was needed. “Whatever it is, if you’re dedicated to the process, you’ll find your space,” he said. “If you’re all in, you’ll find yourself in that industry if you want to be. Bring value. Whatever you do, bring value.”

2 Loka 20191h 56min

This SANDCAST: Beach Volleyball with Tri Bourne and Travis Mewhirter is with Kyle Friend and was recorded in Bonaire, where Friend and Mewhirter are competing in a NORCECA.

25 Syys 201952min

It almost seemed as if Trevor Crabb couldn’t believe what was coming out of his own mouth, when he recalled his conversation with Casey Patterson following his victory at the Manhattan Beach Open. Crabb’s first AVP win came after seven losses in AVP finals. It came after the beach volleyball world populated the hashtag #NevorTrevor, where some pushed it in their posts seriously and others just jokingly. Everybody knew, of course, that Crabb would get his. One doesn’t simply make seven finals and lose all of the rest to come. Crabb claimed, on SANDCAST: Beach Volleyball with Tri Bourne and Travis Mewhirter, that there was no added pressure with each passing tournament and no title. What it did do, however, is build up that moment, when he sealed the seam with his right hand and blocked Patterson for the final point of his first win on tour, at the biggest beach volleyball tournament not named The Olympics, no less. The euphoria afterwards was so high, such a rush, in fact, he told Patterson that “I almost wish it didn’t happen, because I know the feeling and what it did so I want that same feeling again. It’s all downhill from here.” So where do we go from here, Trevor? “Just rack ‘em up,” he said. “Tally ‘em up. Win as many as possible.” It is funny, how that first win came. Tri Bourne had broken his hand at the Vienna Major, leaving Crabb not short of options but certainly short of his No. 1 option. He asked the AVP to allow Italian Alex Ranghieri, with whom Crabb is good friends and plays the Manhattan six-man, but they shot it down. He shot a text to Sean Rosenthal, with whom he had made the 2018 Manhattan Open finals, but that got shot down, too. Which left, of all things, a text from Rich Lambourne that went without reply. “Priddy-Crabb on the Pier, 2019?” Lambourne asked Priddy and Crabb in a group text. Nobody replied, though it remained in the backs of their minds. Crabb was going to reach out to Priddy before he did, so when Priddy gave Crabb the call, they were both all in. Didn’t matter if Priddy hadn’t blocked since 2017, for just a single event, or that they had never played together before, or that they had once shared some trash talk and brief rivalry. Crabb knew they could win. “To be honest, I knew it was definitely a possibility,” he said. “It was going to be tough to do but I knew that both of us really just wanted it bad. I’d been to the finals seven times, that was my eighth, lost all seven. Reid’s never made a final yet in his two years so we were both long overdue for that.” That win was more than just a victory for Crabb and Priddy, but a win for the mindset they share: To be the best, you cannot specialize in one element. You must be versatile. You must, as Crabb and Priddy proved, be able to play both sides, both positions. Basically: You just gotta get the job done, from anywhere, anytime, in any condition. And they did.   “In order to call yourself a beach volleyball player, you have to be able to side out from anywhere on the court so I kind of took that on me and focused and learned how to side out on the right side,” Crabb said. “It’s a lot more challenging than the left. You have a lot less vision, you have to rely on a lot of things first. It’s going pretty good so far. I can’t say I miss the left at all though. It’s nice to play both sides. I think that’s what separates me from someone else.” And now the next chapter of his career begins. His AVP victory – his first, certainly not the last – is finished. Now it’s time to rack ‘em up, tally ‘em up, build ‘em up to the ultimate crescendo: The 2020 Olympic Games. The one victory he would never wish didn’t happen.

18 Syys 20191h

Good luck in your search. You can travel to every tournament, watch every match, pour over film for hours. Good luck finding a moment on a beach volleyball court in which Delaney Knudsen is not smiling. She’ll pop up smiling after losing a point, because what a rally it was. She’ll smile after making an error, because sometimes errors can be funny, you know? She’ll smile after her partner makes an error, because, gosh, what a good idea it was to hit that shot. But don’t allow that joyful demeanor to bely the competitor underneath the 1,000-watt smile and ubiquitous laugh. She’s a winner, Knudsen. Always has been, from the days she practiced with the boys team at Valencia High School to her All-American years at Pepperdine to the career year she’s currently having on the AVP Tour. It’s just not the wins that she lives for. “I think that if you don’t have fun playing this game, then why are you playing this game?” Knudsen said on SANDCAST: Beach Volleyball with Tri Bourne and Travis Mewhirter. “I don’t really see any other viable reason to be playing professional beach volleyball unless you have fun playing beach volleyball. There’s not enough money in it, there’s not the fame that you’re going to be recognized on the street for playing it. So if you can’t have fun, then why are you doing it? It’s been awesome to play with Katie because she gets that: If it’s not fun, then why are we doing it?” She has a blast with Spieler, truly. And we’ll get to her in a minute, and the friendship that has blossomed out of their love for this game. But Knudsen finds the fun in everything. She’ll laugh wildly at Jess Sykora’s jump-bump kills, and the memory of playing behind Sykora in New York City last season, when they stunned Canadians Melissa Humana-Paredes and Sarah Pavan in the qualifier. She’ll beam when recalling the grit and work ethic of Emily Hartong, with whom she qualified in Seattle a few months ago. But there is something, or dozens and dozens of things, about Spieler that Knudsen loves to her core. It makes sense, too. They grew up playing in the U.S.A. High Performance system together, every other year. They made their first main draws together, in Manhattan Beach of 2014, when they were both teenagers. They’ve got the same mindset, both on the court and off: Let this game, and life, be fun. “Just being able to laugh and have fun and work hard, which are all my favorite parts of the game, she loves those too, so it feels super comfortable to be out there with someone who has the exact same goals as I do,” Knudsen said. “I think that just the ability to push my body and to work really hard is my favorite part. I love getting to the end of a rally where you’re sandy and you’ve grinded out and bunch of one-handed scramble plays, and win or lose, I can’t come out of a rally like that not smiling, because just working and leaving it all on the court even in just one rally is my favorite part. We come out on top of most of those because we love that pressure and love that work that kind of gets on people’s nerves.” Spieler feels the same, too. After finishing 17th in Hermosa Beach earlier this season – a deceptively low finish, as they were the ones who sent Zana Muno and Crissy Jones, eventual semifinalists, into the contender’s bracket with a 21-14, 21-10 win – they met with their coach, who had made an interesting observation from Spieler. Last year she had taken a fifth, this year, 12 spots lower. Yet she was unquestionably happier after this one.   “It was interesting to see what someone else could weigh in on our partnership and just the chemistry we had and just the way we played together and that I could kind of help foster that enjoyment of the game for her just as she was doing for me,” Knudsen said. “I would not have expected that we would have finished the season together but couldn’t be any happier that we are.” No, it was not the initial plan to finish as a left-side blocker. For the majority of her professional and college career, Knudsen has been a defender. While she’s always been adept at switching sides, she played on the right for most of 2018 with Sykora. Then came Spieler’s call to play Hermosa, and suddenly Knudsen was taking on a new position, a new side, and a style of play that can only be described as grind the other team into the ground. And then laugh about it. “If you would have told me I would have ended this season as a blocker I probably would have laughed and been really embarrassed because I don’t really consider myself to be a strong blocker,” said Knudsen, who finished AVP Chicago ranked second among all blockers in blocks per set. “I wouldn’t do it any other way, getting the opportunity to play with Katie and grow my game in such a unique way has been an incredible experience.” As much as she’s enjoyed the physical learning curve as a blocker, competing with a new but old partner, Knudsen is particularly enamored with the mental strides she’s made, and is making. “We can be down three points at the end of a set and I’m not worried, because [Katie] wins,” Knudsen said. “She makes those plays at the end and it’s been really cool to learn from her and adapt that into my own game, to know have that internal confidence. People say it all the time: ‘You’re never out of the game, lotta game left, that’s why we play’ but it’s all just words until you feel it. And playing with Katie I’ve been able to feel what that feels like and it’s been incredible.”

11 Syys 201959min