The Power of Huddles

When you watch or play team sports you will undoubtedly experience “the huddle”. These are the times when groups of athletes on the same team come together, with or without their coach, often during time outs or other breaks in the action. If you’ve never played a team sport you might have no idea what happens during these huddles. And, if you’ve played tons of sports you might take huddles for granted. Huddles are vital in sport, and in life.

Huddles serve multiple purposes, sometimes simultaneously. Huddles are used to plan and convey strategy, as well as provide encouragement. Teams “huddle up” to share information. Teams “huddle up” to comfort each other. Teams “huddle up” to energize each other. Teams “huddle up” to teach each other. No matter the specific reason at the given time, the huddle makes the team a team, for better or for worse. Huddles are vital for honesty and communication. 

I’ve been playing team sports since I was 9. I can still remember the feeling, if not the content, of some of the first team huddles I participated in. My local St. Savior’s softball coach, Jim Cohen, would bring together the group of girls into a huddle before games, in between innings and at the end of the game. He’d use the huddle to motivate us, while instructing us. He would give us corrective guidance, with a little bit of gruff. In those moments, we knew he was our leader, but he was also our biggest cheerleader. He brought a rag-tag group of girls together, who hadn’t won a single game the previous season, and made us a championship team the next year. That kind of transformation doesn’t just happen on the field, through play, but can be largely attributed to the power of huddles.

Since September 1997, I have played volleyball weekly with an amazing group of women. We huddle before the game starts, during time outs, and then sometimes after the game at a bar or restaurant. These huddles are largely “leaderless”. There is no coach in this group, but we turn to each other as leaders in many ways. Through these huddles we have made a family of sorts. We’ve gotten each other through births, illnesses and deaths. The huddle is powerful with this crew.

As a team sports player of 40 years (ouch…), coach of almost 20 years (omg…) and an official of just about a year (woo hoo…), I’ve seen my fair share of huddles, good and bad. Huddles can make or break a team. Huddles can propel singular and collective athletes to the greatest accomplishments of their lives, or they can fail miserably. 

Bad huddles are usually those where the coach just talks the whole time, oftentimes with mostly negative emotion. In bad huddles, you see athletes struggling to stay connected. They stare off, or down at the ground. If you’ve lost the athlete in the huddle, you can’t expect them to put it back together on the court, field, pitch, etc.  If there’s no significant engagement or positivity, the huddle hurts, instead of helping.

This past year, the huddle has been vital to me in life, even more than sport. Around this time last year I was given shocking news: I was diagnosed with a brain aneurysm. A brain aneurysm is a bulge or ballooning of an artery in your brain; it suggests a weakening of the blood vessel. Aneurysms in any part of the body, but especially the brain, are dangerous, but do not always require treatment. It is estimated that about 1 in 50 people walking around have brain aneurysms, and 90% of them will never cause problems. But, when aneurysms burst, especially brain aneurysms, people often die. Each year, about 30,000 Americans have a ruptured brain aneurysm and about 500,000 people die from them around the world. Half the victims of brain aneurysms are under 50. I was 47 when they found my aneurysm.

I didn’t have symptoms. It was what they call an “incidental finding”. They found the aneurysm through a head MRI for another condition. That other condition is not life threatening, but requires medication management and regular imaging. You can imagine my shock when I was reading the lab report on my MRI less than a day after having the test, but before I heard from my doctor. The condition I was being treated for was continuing to improve (great news). And then… 

“Possible 1 to 2 mm aneurysm of the supraclinoid left internal carotid artery.” I was reading this report on my phone in the passenger seat of our car, my husband in the driver’s seat, while on the way to our son’s first high school volleyball game of the spring 2023 season. I started bemoaning how irresponsible the radiologist was who authored this report and erroneously suggested I had a brain aneurysm. I was in complete denial, complaining to my husband, and then my phone rang. It was my doctor. Recognition of reality clicked as I picked up her call. I didn’t say hello. Just: “I have an aneurysm?”. She told me that it looked like it. She had already shown the images to the best neurosurgeon at NYU. He said “don’t worry too much. Small aneurysms are common. Let’s get more imaging ASAP”.  We set up an appointment with him just days later. The most important huddling of my life, thus far, was about to get started.

As we entered the gym to watch the volleyball game, I was still on the phone with the doctor. When I got off the phone, my initial team huddle was already in place. My husband and sister were there. A few quick calls, and my mother and other sister were in place. The key to a good huddle when things aren’t looking good is to NOT freak out. Negative energy begets negative energy. My initial huddle acknowledged the stress and fear, but highlighted the words of the expert: “small aneurysms are common”, etc. Unfortunately, the subsequent images and multiple appointments with experts from the best hospitals in the world confirmed that I would need surgery. I was going to need a lot of huddling.

When you know you need a huddle, it also matters who is called into the huddle. Sometimes the whole team comes together; sometimes the coach pulls one player aside, while the rest of the team circles up. Sometimes, like in American football, the different “teams” (offense, defense, special, etc.) huddle separately. The choices around huddles should be deliberate. I made choices over the course of weeks and months about who to huddle with, and which huddles were for which purposes. 

I quickly summoned the local moms huddle. I let them all know what I was facing, and that I didn’t know what support I needed, but hoped they would be there to provide it when I figured it out. They helped me meet my needs, and ensured that my son’s needs were covered. They stepped up for me, and I am forever grateful. 

There is the daily huddle with college friends, thanks to the Marco Polo video messaging app. This crew is vital for the spontaneous huddle. Wherever I was, whatever time of day or night, they were there to listen, and respond. Through this huddle, I could privately cry, but not be alone in that moment. 

My mom is key to the doctor’s appointment huddle.  It’s important to have the right combination of experience for these particular kinds of huddles. Doctor’s appointment huddles don’t always feel like the patient is on the same team with the medical care providers. It can sometimes feel like us against them. That’s not the vibe you want for life threatening medical events. My mom was my co-captain in these huddles. She and I planned our questions for the doctors beforehand, executed them in the moment, and regrouped afterwards to process. While I ultimately made a decision that she struggled to support, delaying treatment when the doctor said it was ok, she did not leave the huddle. Huddles can be challenging. 

And then there is the family huddle, with unconditional group hugs and vital honest reflection with and from my husband and son. The morning after I read that life-changing report my husband asked me how I was doing. My response: “I’m alive, so I guess I’m good”. Our teenage son was always willing to give a hug when asked, but preferred to avoid too much huddling. For huddles to be most effective, participant preferences should be identified and respected. Then, when the huddles happen, they’re most meaningful.

Huddles are also important tools for identifying strengths and challenges for the various team members. Some people shine in the huddle; others fade away. My husband, for instance, really stepped up. He’s used to waiting in the wings in our family huddles, and unlikely to be called into service in a “major league” kinda way. Over the 4+ months from my diagnosis, through eventual surgery, and past my recovery, he was on pointe.  When all was said and done though, he needed some time to himself, to recuperate and recharge. Being on a team, especially in a high stress environment, can be exhausting.  

In August 2023 I had surgery to insert a pipeline embolization stent to support my left carotid artery just past the ophthalmic branch. The procedure was done through angiogram technology, which thankfully meant no need to open my skull. The stent was snaked into my wrist, through my chest, and up into my brain.  Recovery was minor, by comparison to other surgeries, but not without lingering effects. 

I’ve been on blood thinning medication since surgery. I can’t play volleyball while on this medication. There is considerable risk of minor head injury while playing volleyball. And while on blood thinners there is no such thing as ”minor” head injury. I hope that some test I’m having in the next few weeks will mean that I can stop the medication later this month. At that time, I’ll be cleared to play volleyball again.

It’s been just over 6 months since I’ve played volleyball. This limitation has caused me considerable sadness. You could say I’ve been “sidelined” but not completely been off the court. I’ve coached and officiated since the surgery, and watched plenty of my son’s games, but not yet played. Returning to the volleyball court to play will be a momentous occasion that I will be sure to celebrate. But it’s not just action on the court that I’ll be thankful for. I may have been part of thousands of team huddles over my 48 years on this planet, but I will never take another huddle for granted. They’re just too important to sport, and life.