Courts of Chaos: Rethinking the Tournament Culture in Youth Volleyball
Walk into any convention center or warehouse-turned-volleyball-mecca on a tournament weekend, and you’re hit with the same thing: a deafening buzz of whistles, shouts, and the constant thump of volleyballs bouncing off bodies, floors, nets, and coffee cups. No matter the venue, it seems like players, parents, and coaches are packed in like sardines in a can. Sometimes thousands of players, parents, coaches, and officials crammed into hallways and food lines. Parents paying $20 to park and $10 to get in the door to watch their kid play 3-4 matches today, but spend 7-9 hours at the venue, or more. Oh, and you get to do it all again tomorrow, and maybe even a third day if you're "lucky."
This is the norm. This is the culture. And it’s time we start questioning it. Not just in whispers or side conversations with fellow coaches, but openly, boldly, and with a willingness to imagine something better.
The Origin: Built for the Few
The mega-tournament model wasn’t born with the average youth athlete in mind. It was designed to serve the needs of college recruiters. With tight budgets and limited time, college coaches needed an efficient way to watch hundreds of players at once. So clubs and tournament hosts built the stage: massive events, centralized locations, back-to-back courts, and match schedules that placed as many athletes as possible in front of recruiting eyes. It made sense—for them.
And for a small percentage of athletes—roughly 10% of club players who go on to play in college—that system works. But what about the other 90%?
What about the kids who won’t play in college? The ones who just want to compete, learn, and enjoy the game? What about their families, their development, their health, their joy?
They are caught in a system that was never designed for them. A system that asks them to give up weekends, money, time, and energy to participate in an exhausting ritual whose original purpose doesn't even apply to them. And yet, because it’s the only option available in many regions, families keep signing up. Because what else are they going to do?
The Reality: Who Is This For?
Spend a weekend at one of these tournaments and it quickly becomes clear: this system wasn’t built with the whole athlete in mind. Nor the whole coach. Nor the whole family.
Players often sit for hours between matches, with little time on court and long stretches of overstimulation, poor nutrition, and limited rest. It’s a recipe for emotional and physical burnout, not meaningful development. These are not conditions that lead to mastery or joy. These are conditions that teach survival.
Parents invest thousands in travel, hotels, food, and time off work to spend way too long of days in echo chambers watching their kids play for maybe three hours total. Many try to put a positive spin on the experience, but the fatigue and financial strain are real.
Coaches and officials are run ragged, managing teams across unpredictable schedules, late-night matches, and understaffed facilities. The mental fatigue is real. The expectations are relentless. And the appreciation? Often minimal.
And let’s not forget the players playing match three on day three. Is that the environment where we expect creativity, adaptability, and peak performance to emerge? Or is it survival mode disguised as competition? How many of us have seen teams break down on day 3, not because they aren’t talented, but because they are simply spent—physically, emotionally, and mentally?
The Hidden Costs
The toll of this tournament culture isn’t just financial. It’s developmental.
From an ecological dynamics perspective, skill emerges from meaningful, representative interaction with the environment. But tournament environments are rarely representative of anything athletes will experience outside of club volleyball. The noise, chaos, lighting, and inconsistency dilute the signal. It’s hard to calibrate perception-action systems when the entire sensory system is overloaded.
What we’re left with is not enhanced decision-making or increased game awareness—we’re left with confused perception, dulled responsiveness, and players who spend most of their tournament days trying to simply stay focused or stay awake.
It’s not just that these environments are overwhelming. It’s that they often work directly against the types of growth and adaptability we claim to prioritize in player development.
Players don’t need more time in gyms. They need more time in environments that foster problem-solving, intention, interaction, and joy. They need rest between matches, thoughtful feedback, and opportunities to engage meaningfully with the game—not just survive it.
Why It Persists: Follow the Money
Tournament weekends aren’t just events—they’re revenue machines. For clubs, hosts, and governing bodies, every team entry fee, hotel partnership, merchandise sale, and parking charge adds up. The current system feeds itself.
Even well-meaning directors and coaches feel stuck in the cycle. Opting out means opting out of visibility, rankings, worthwhile competition, and perceived legitimacy. If your team doesn’t go to the big events, how will they get noticed? How will you prove your value to the community?
But if the primary beneficiaries are the recruiters and the event organizers, then we have to ask: who is the sport really serving?
The truth is uncomfortable: the system thrives because it's profitable, not because it's optimal. And in that equation, the needs of the athlete are often the first to be compromised.
A Better Way Forward
We don’t have to keep doing it this way. There are better options—if we’re brave enough to build them.
Smaller, shorter tournaments that prioritize meaningful match play over sheer volume.
Local options that reduce travel, cost, and time demands while deepening community ties.
Smaller team formats, like 2v2 or 4v4, that give athletes more touches, more play, and more responsibility.
Development-focused events where feedback, rest, and adaptation are prioritized over medals and rankings.
3-4 hour tournament days where players get 3-4 matches in, then go home—refreshed, satisfied, and wanting more.
Imagine a volleyball world where athletes go home better after play is done—not broken. Imagine a system where competition is fierce, fun, and fulfilling, and where the energy in the gym is one of connection and celebration, not noise and exhaustion.
Some of us are already trying. And many more are ready to.
The Choice Ahead
This isn’t just about comfort. It’s about integrity. If we say youth sports are for the players, then the systems we create should reflect that. Right now, they don’t.
The tournament machine runs on momentum and money. But we’re not powerless. We’re coaches, parents, athletes, and directors. We can choose to stop feeding the machine and start building something better—more humane, more joyful, more representative of the game we love.
We can choose formats that honor rest and reward growth. We can choose to design events that feel more like learning labs and less like endurance gauntlets. We can tell the truth: that more isn’t always better, and that we are allowed to reinvent the experience.
It starts with a question: What are we really here for?
And it continues with a decision: What kind of volleyball world do we want to build?
Let’s stop accepting chaos as the price of competition. Let’s start building something that actually serves the kids we claim to care about.
I agree. I wish all thought like this. However, I tried to take my "National" team to smaller tournaments and my parents threatened to leave
YES!! I agree, it is a broken system. What started out as club ball for the elite athlete has turned into pay to play or pay and we will make a team for you. It a facade and it sets up many young girls and families for failure and wishful thinking that IF they play for the right club they will get a scholarship to play college volleyball when in reality if you(the other 90%) would save your money and not play club you can actually pay for your college tuition with the money saved.