Why I Love Photographing Volleyball

There's a decision I keep making when I photograph volleyball: where is this play going next? Sometimes I read it well. Other times, the ball goes somewhere I didn't expect, and I'm reminded how much there still is to learn.

I love photographing volleyball because it challenges me, lets me connect with the athletes through their emotion, and gives me an opportunity to bring more people into a sport I love. Those three things keep me interested long after I've packed up my camera.

The Challenge: Anticipating the Next Play

Volleyball puts so much movement into a small space. On each side of the net, six players share roughly 900 square feet. That number may be familiar if you've seen the logo on my social accounts or if you read Lee Feinswog's 900 Square Feet, his newsletter devoted to volleyball. The ball can change direction several times in a matter of seconds. A pass becomes a set, a hitter approaches, and a touch at the block can send everyone moving again.

If a photographer tries to follow the ball with the camera through every contact, they're likely to arrive late. By the time they've found the ball in the viewfinder, the moment they wanted to capture may already have passed.

To photograph volleyball well, a photographer has to understand the game. I'm watching the quality of a pass, whether the setter can get to it, what hitters are available in the current rotation, and how the defense is positioned. When I choose an athlete to focus on, I'm making a prediction about what might happen next.

Will the set go outside? Is there an opening for the middle? Does this setter and hitter combination like to run the quick tempo ball? Could this hitter send the ball toward the defender I'm watching? Those decisions happen throughout a rally, and committing to one means accepting that the play might go somewhere else.

I love that it gives me something I need to figure out. I like having to pay attention, make a decision, and continue learning. Getting the timing right is satisfying because I know how easily I could have missed it. And when I do miss, I want to understand why.

The more volleyball I photograph, the more I appreciate the decisions the athletes are making at that same speed. Learning to read the game has made me a better photographer and a more interested fan.

The Emotion: A Glimpse into Personalities on the Court

Then the rally ends, and there's another photograph to look for.

A player turns toward teammates with a shout. Someone breaks into a grin. Across the net, another athlete looks down for a moment, frustrated by a missed chance. After nearly every point, there's a response, and often very little time between feeling it and showing it.

I love how often that happens. Celebration and frustration are woven into the rhythm of a volleyball match. A long rally can end with relief, a missed opportunity with disappointment, and a teammate's next gesture with encouragement. There are so many small stories happening before the next serve.

Those reactions give me glimpses of personality. Some athletes celebrate with their whole bodies. Others offer a quick smile or reach first for a teammate. I start to recognize who brings energy into a huddle, who offers reassurance, and how different players respond when a point doesn't go their way.

The more I photograph a team, the more familiar those differences become. I learn where to look for a certain expression. I notice an athlete's competitive drive in the way she prepares for the next rally, or the way a teammate can bring her back into the moment after a mistake.

That familiarity creates a connection I value. I become more invested in the people I'm photographing because I'm getting to know something about who they are, what motivates them, and how they care for one another.

I want a friend or family member to recognize the personality in a photograph, and an athlete to see an expression that feels unmistakably their own. A photo that holds something familiar about a person can mean a great deal to the people who know them.

The Opportunity: Helping More People Discover Volleyball

For me, volleyball is the most exciting sport to watch and follow. I love how quickly a rally can develop, how much coordination a team needs, and the athleticism it takes to make a difficult play look controlled. A defender reaches a ball that seemed out of reach, and suddenly her team has another chance to attack.

I find that excitement in high school, club, NCAA, professional, and Olympic volleyball. The level of competition changes, but the excitement always captivates.

Photography gives me an opportunity to share that interest. A still image lets someone look carefully at something that happened too quickly to take in during the rally: the height of a jump, a defender stretched across the floor, or the hands meeting the ball above the net.

Alongside those moments, I can share the athletes' expressions and the relationships within a team. Together, those photographs can give someone a reason to learn a player's name, follow a program, or watch a match they might otherwise have passed by.

That's a possibility I care about. That drives me. These athletes put so much into a dynamic, demanding sport, and I enjoy using my work to bring more attention to them. I want more people to appreciate the skill on the court and become interested enough to keep following.

My hope is that my photographs help an athlete feel seen, give a family something meaningful to hold onto, and help a team reach people who haven't discovered it yet. If someone comes across a photo, decides to watch volleyball, and comes back for another match, I'd be thrilled my work played a part in that.

I hope you can see some of what keeps bringing me back to the court in these photographs, and that they give you a reason to come watch for yourself.

Matt Powell is a professional sports content creator who crafts creative assets that drive athlete and team branding strategies.