Why The Wall?
Because in training nothing hits the sand while I’m on court.
Teammates started calling it a wall after I dug 40 balls in one session. It stuck. I never asked for the name, but I have spent every season since trying to deserve it.
Defence is the quiet half of beach volleyball. Nobody photographs the read before the hit, the step that arrives early, the third dig on a ball everyone else had written off. I love that part of the game, and I would rather be the last line than the loudest voice.
I was born in 2003, grew up with salt in everything, and now train in Hamburg beside Alex Morgan, my partner on court. The goal has not moved since the day someone told me I was too small: Olympics 2028.
So that is the answer. A wall does not celebrate. A wall stays, and the ball comes back.
A wall does not celebrate. A wall stays.