Put me in, coach

I was always a head taller than everyone at school. While my height suggested I’d be athletic, I wasn’t. I dabbled in basketball, quickly learning I didn’t like other girls getting in my space. Softball kept me somewhat engaged, and playing catch with Dad stoked a love for the sport. But for this lanky, 6-foot-tall 12-year-old, volleyball changed everything.

During my worst game of the seventh-grade season, my future club volleyball director saw something my junior high coach didn’t: potential. I was devastated when my junior high coach demoted me to the B team, but I soon received an invitation to try out for the most elite volleyball club in Iowa — a moment that would reshape my entire athletic journey and lead me to the University of Dayton.

A month shy of turning 15 and measuring 6’4”, I received my first offer to play for a Division I team. One year full of college visits later, I committed to UD just before I turned 16. 

While 12-year-old Laney thought she’d never recover from such embarrassment, 22-year-old Laney knows she wouldn’t have become a Flyer without that moment.

Once again, I was ready for failure last summer when I contacted coaches of Flyer basketball, soccer and football. Would they even take my call? Would they let me join a practice to get an insider’s look at their teams?

Their answer, in true UD fashion, was “yes.” My assignment from UD Magazine was to learn a new skill with each sport and give readers an insider’s look at the teams they love so well. I laced up my tennis shoes, put on my game face and jumped in.

Women’s basketball practice: 7 a.m. July 9, 2024 

I’ve only known the UD student-athlete life between the four walls of a hot and humid Frericks Gym. A chill hit my skin as I stepped into Cronin Gym. Ah, air conditioning. I knew the goosebumps wouldn’t be the only odd sensation I’d feel while doing this story. 

After stretching, everyone gathered in a circle in the center of the court. I was immediately struck by their undeniable bond and familial feel. 

Head coach Tamika Williams-Jeter was animated, encouraging her players as they dribbled and weaved through cones, her claps echoing through the gym. She greeted me with the biggest hug and told me every player’s background story. 

Every. Single. Player. 

I questioned the lexicon used in the gym and wondered how foreign volleyball terms might sound to these women. I didn’t know what it meant to “punch the baseline” or find a “pocket pass.” They wouldn’t have understood what it meant to “pass a three” — a high, perfect, middle-of-the-court pass — although they definitely knew how to shoot ’em. Confused, I searched for commonalities in our physical skill sets as athletes. 

Our volleyball coach emphasizes spacing, especially for middle blockers like me. I saw echoes of that in how the shooters created space to step into their shots. In basketball, a shot that falls with “nothing but net” is perfection; in volleyball, touching the net is a no-no and loses you a point.

Nearing the end of practice, the volume in the gym completely shifted like it usually did in Frericks when we finally got to scrimmage. (I’m going to make a sweeping generalization and say all athletes prefer the chance to scrimmage rather than do skill-focused drills. We want to play.)

After practice, senior guard Ivy Wolf and junior guard Eleanor Monyek wanted to teach me how to dribble through my legs. My 38-inch inseam, which I thought would make it easy, wasn’t as helpful as anticipated.

Then, we tried layups. Right-handed felt similar to a volleyball “slide” — how we middle blockers come from the right to attack the ball from behind our setters — because I used the same footwork. The opposite footwork needed for one-handed layups from the left just felt awkward. 

Williams-Jeter shared a powerful insight during practice: She deliberately steps back during summer training, allowing her assistant coaches to lead. “They don’t want to hear my voice all year,” she explained of her players. By reserving her critiques, she ensures her words carry more weight during the high-stakes in-season moments.

Despite this restraint, Williams-Jeter’s passion was palpable. She immersed herself in drills, her excitement manifesting through cheers and claps that filled the gym. I felt privileged to be welcomed into their tight-knit community — if only for a day.

Before committing to UD ...

... I went on several college visits nationwide and had countless calls with coaches. Early on, I wanted to play for a female head coach. I liked the idea of playing for someone who played college volleyball and understood the female student-athlete experience. But only one school that offered me a scholarship had a woman head coach. 

While Dayton didn’t fit that criteria, there have always been empowering women assistant coaches here who I’ve looked up to. No diss on UD volleyball head coach Tim Horsmon, but it is such a privilege that our women’s basketball team gets to play for an inspiring woman head coach — especially as women’s basketball continues to gain media attention, just as volleyball is. It’s an exciting time to be in women’s sports, and I can’t wait to see how both these games continue to grow.

Men’s basketball practice:  3 p.m. July 18, 2024

Even though I had been to Cronin Gym just a week prior, I felt nervous walking in. Men’s basketball is a big deal at Dayton. This was a rare opportunity to look behind the curtain, and I felt honored that head coach Anthony Grant ’84 warmly invited me in. 

As I settled into a sideline seat, I watched players file in to warm up. Bob Marley sang through the speakers, reminding me I didn’t have to worry about a thing. 

After a series of warm-up knee hugs, lunges and other dynamic stretches, the team dove into a fast-paced three-man drill. Players sprinted, passed and shot layups in synchronicity. Their shirts were drenched in sweat just 11 minutes in. 

Practice was a series of timed game speed scenarios. Transitions between drills were smooth, with players anticipating the next move. The terminology was foreign to me — “Houston,” “rip,” “zipper pull” and “zipper punch” — but I started to get it when Grant challenged his team to attack and apply pressure to opponents.

As they moved into five-versus-five drills, the energy shifted with the “ooh” of each 3-pointer and “ahh” of each dunk. Grant’s voice boomed through the gym, demanding more speed. His brow creased with each holler. This type of coaching is what yields the locker room celebration videos we love on social media. 

“The game is not played in slow motion,” he insisted. This felt like life advice: You won’t always have time to prepare; sometimes you just have to adapt.

Practice concluded with everyone — players, coaches, staff, alumni guests and myself — standing hand-in-hand as Grant spoke about growth and gratitude. Coming closer, we put our hands in and “broke it down,” getting to the heart of the day’s lesson and exclaiming the word “family!”

Following practice, junior forward Isaac Jack took me aside to teach me how to shoot a layup (again), but it wasn’t overhand like what the women’s players taught me. Starting with the ball low and coming up in a scooping motion, the shot required finesse. I came in too hot and didn’t have the “touch” to guide the ball in like he demonstrated. 

Redshirt junior guard Malachi Smith then tried to teach me how to dribble behind the back, a bigger challenge than I expected because a men’s basketball is bigger than a women’s. I felt like I couldn’t control it. The motion of turning my torso felt strange, too, like I couldn’t quite turn it enough. I kept sending the ball backward and sideways.

This was the most frustrating skill I learned because I felt uncoachable. I reminded myself they make it look easy because this is their sport.

I left that day feeling like my younger self chose the right sport not to play. 

In club volleyball ...

... I loved befriending girls from different towns who shared my passion. Coming to college, I searched for new connections with like-minded people beyond volleyball. This led me to get involved in our Student-Athlete Advisory Committee my sophomore year. Serving as SAAC president my last semester at UD, I became closer friends with other student-athletes and saw their investment in making this community a welcoming place for all.

Every SAAC member has a busy life, yet they find the time to start wellness initiatives and engage in community service projects. What I love most is that we come together each month not as basketball players or volleyball players, but as student-athletes working for the common good. 

Football practice:  7:30 a.m. Aug. 6, 2024

With a heat advisory in effect, I was ill-prepared for the elements of an outdoor sport. I didn’t wear sunglasses or bring sunscreen. So, I climbed to the top of the bleachers at the Jerry Von Mohr Practice Facility, sitting on the 50-yard line and seeking the shade cast by the press box. 

That was until head coach Trevor Andrews ’98 had me come down on the field for something completely unexpected.

He asked me to lead the “five quicks,” the jumping jacks concluding the team’s warm-up. In doing so, I became the first woman in UD football history to lead a practice drill. That one’s going on my résumé. 

As I was about to run off the field, an assistant coach pulled me back and said, “You’re gonna wanna watch this.” Andrews threw on the field a ring about 5 feet in diameter. The offense lined up on one side, defense on the other. Like the announcer of a mixed martial arts fight, Andrews called out players by their hometown and size and threw ’em in the ring. The winner was whoever could push the other out first.

Close enough to see, but far enough away from the odorous football pads, I heard the linemen whoop and holler until the defender emerged victorious, shoving the offensive player out-of-bounds. 

I returned to my shaded spot in the bleachers, slightly overwhelmed. So many stations and drills going on. Bodies littered across the whole field. I didn’t know where to look. How can you tell who’s who without knowing everyone’s number by heart? As a player, how do you prove yourself? As a head coach, how do you keep track of a 120-man roster? 

I prefer our roster of 18. 

The offensive players wore white jerseys while the defense wore red. They remained on separate sides of the field, working with their positions. When the two sides merged, I swore I saw pink.

When they finally competed against one another, I could tell this was the part of practice they all looked forward to. The sun beat down harder, but that didn’t slow them down, further proving my point that all athletes just want to play.

The team huddled and Andrews summoned me to the front. Out of their helmets now, the players’ sweaty faces stared back at me. I couldn’t disguise the pure fear in my eyes, unsure why I stood there in front of them.

I had one more task — break it down with the team. I was an honorary football player for the day, a part of the culture that Andrews creates. 

Senior linebackers Logan Foody and Dan Kowaleski stuck around to teach me some football essentials. Foody demonstrated a forward shuffle to creep toward the quarterback. Kowaleski played QB in this scenario. I ran toward him, placed my left hand on his left shoulder and smacked the ball out of his right hand. I recovered the ball and dashed to the end zone for a touchdown. 

Except I ran to the wrong end zone. Lesson learned. 

After that, Andrews gave me pointers on throwing the ball in a spiral. He lined my fingers on the laces just right and emphasized following through to get that cinematic corkscrew. It took a few tries before I started to get the hang of it, but it reminded me of the simple joy I got out of playing catch with my dad when I was young. 

Volleyball coach Tim Horsmon says volleyball is the “ultimate team sport” because of how much you rely on each position to do their job. After trying my hand at football and witnessing all its moving pieces, I think football may deserve that title.

When I first talked ...

... with Andrews about coming to practice, he shared his coaching philosophy with me, something I’d heard ad nauseam from my parents: If a coach doesn’t coach you hard, it means they don’t believe in you. 

Coach Horsmon certainly follows this philosophy. Although there were days I felt like I couldn’t catch a break, I found comfort in the fact that he believed I was capable of more. Within that pressure exists a level of care. I came to UD because I was going to be cared for as a player and a person. I didn’t feel pigeonholed into just one identity. I could be a whole person and flourish as a student, volleyball player and friend. Coach Horsmon says he wants us to leave UDVB as “kick-ass women.” After four-and-a-half years, I can confidently say I am one.

Women’s soccer practice: 9:30 a.m. Sept. 24, 2024

When head coach Eric Golz brought me into the huddle to introduce me to the team, I told them my soccer knowledge was quite limited. One player asked me, “Do you know what offsides is?” 

I replied honestly and told them I did not, feeling a bit like Ted Lasso. 

Chuckles erupted from the huddle. The player replied, “It’s OK, honestly, neither do we.” 

I couldn’t help but laugh, but the fun and games halted when coach Golz announced they’d be starting practice with sprints. 

The team asked if I wanted to join them. I informed them that today was my off-day, and the players nodded knowingly, aware of the sanctity of a student-athlete’s day of physical rest. 

As the players ran back and forth, their coughing and panting took me back to my own hellish conditioning days.

It was a cloudy morning on the practice field, but it was humid from days of rain. I’ve learned I’m not a fan of outdoor sports because I never know how to dress for the weather. The heavy, dewy air had me sweating in my long-sleeve shirt. 

“Last one!” the players cried, sprinting to the finish. While they caught their breaths, the coaches brought the goals together and distributed colored pinnies that distinguished four teams for a mini-tournament. 

The four teams became two as they moved into a full-field scrimmage. The coaches scattered themselves among the players, intervening when they encountered teaching moments.

It started to sprinkle and the soft ground dampened more. The teams thundered across the field, cleats squelching in the muddy grass.

The players jumped, attempting to head the ball. How aren’t there more concussions in soccer? I was in awe at the speedy patterns their feet wove. How were they not tripping over one another or themselves? The longer I watched, the more anxious I grew, worried I’d embarrass myself when my turn came.

Graduate student defenders Kennedy Gray and Roisin McGovern stayed after practice to teach me some basics.

First, we’d try a “simple juggle,” they said.

Simple? I thought. There’s nothing simple about juggling! 

I couldn’t repeatedly kick the ball up to myself with control. Or bounce it on my knee. Or go from my feet to my knees and back again. But once I actually focused, I started to get it. I was stunned. 

But I was quickly humbled when they instructed me to kick the ball forward, then stop it by putting my right foot on it, open up with my right hip and complete a 180-degree turn. Yikes.

Another maneuver: kick the ball forward then “juke” — act like I was going to kick again but instead step over the ball. They described it as “kind of like a dance.” I like to dance. The Cha Cha Slide is clear and simple. This was not. 

Then finally came the penalty kicks (“PKs” to the cool kids). I did a four-step approach from the left side of the ball, similar to my three-step approach to attack in volleyball, plus one. I planted my left foot on the side of the ball and, with my right foot, kicked straight. Then right. Then left. I was grateful we were shooting into an open goal; I wouldn’t have scored if there had been a goalie. 

Soccer practice was the most nerve-wracking because I felt like I would be most likely to get injured, but I made it out unscathed. Walking away from this practice, I had a new appreciation for the sport and the skill it requires. But, I still don’t know what offsides is.

Watching from the sideline ...

... as the soccer team scrimmaged, I met their freshmen, all waiting for their chance to sub in. I was refreshed to hear what being a Flyer meant to the young class. They made me wish I was a freshman athlete all over again. 

In writing this, I gained a more holistic perspective of the UD student-athlete experience while reflecting on my time here. I thought this chapter would come to a close when I walked the stage at graduation in December 2024, shaking President Eric F. Spina’s hand while donning my A-10 Championship ring, student-athlete stole and chapel-blue heels. But fate had other plans. Despite a gut-wrenching loss in the A-10 tournament, our team clinched an at-large bid to the NCAA tournament where we did what no Dayton volleyball team has ever done: made it to the Sweet Sixteen [see Page 25]. 

The day I was meant to walk the stage at graduation, I was traveling back to campus from Nebraska after my last game in a Dayton jersey. After five seasons, I can tell you that the days are long but the years are short, and I’d choose being a student-athlete at UD in every lifetime.    

Laney Yates graduated with her second UD degree, a master’s in communication, in December 2024 and plans to walk at commencement in May. A student writer for UD Magazine during her last year on campus, she hopes to merge her education and student-athlete experience by working in sports communication or entertainment media.

A version of this article appears in print in the Spring 2025 University of Dayton Magazine, Page 26. EXPLORE THE ISSUE — MORE ONLINE