🎥 The Tournament No One Talks About: The Parents Behind the Cameras

𝘉𝘺 𝘊𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘈𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘯 | #𝘝𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘺𝘓𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦

There is a silent tournament happening at every volleyball event. It does not get announced. It does not have a trophy. And it does not end when the whistle blows.

This is the tournament of The Recording Parents.

They arrive early. Earlier than the players sometimes. Because finding a good filming spot is a science. You need the right angle. Not too low. Not too high. Not behind the referee stand. Definitely not near the parents who yell “side out” every few seconds.

The tripod goes up. The phone gets clamped. The lens is cleaned with whatever is available; a hoodie sleeve, a napkin, sometimes the corner of a gym pass. Battery check. Storage check. WiFi off. Airplane mode on. Because nothing ruins a game video like a random call from Aunt Rosa during match point.

The first point starts. The camera is recording. Everyone is focused.

Until it tilts. Slightly. Just enough to miss half the court. But no one notices.

That is just the beginning.

During every match, there is a dad who stands awkwardly holding a phone like it is a newborn. His back is aching but he refuses to sit. Because he promised his kid this game would be crisp and centered. And that is what love looks like when you are filming from Court 18.

Somewhere nearby, a mom keeps yelling “rotate it” to the other mom on the sideline who is filming vertically. There is always a vertical filmer. We love them. But we are concerned.

Someone forgot their tripod and is trying to balance the phone on a water bottle. They build a mini wall with Goldfish boxes and a knee brace. It works for two points before it topples mid serve and all you hear is “Oh no no noooo”

And then there is always that one parent who films everything but never watches it. They just save it in a Google Drive graveyard. Meanwhile, another parent watches every clip the same night. With notes. With slow motion replays. With arrows drawn over their kid’s approach.

The real MVPs are the ones who film, cheer, and coach from behind the camera. All while trying not to make the camera shake when they gasp.

There is an entire system. Some parents use apps to record and tag each play. Others whisper into their phone, “that was her fifth ace” like volleyball detectives on a mission. Some hold two devices. One to film. One to post. They are the producers, directors, and marketing departments of their child’s volleyball dreams.

And yet, no one claps for them.

There is no medal for the mom who filmed nine straight matches and still missed the exact moment her daughter got her first kill. Because the girl in front leaned forward. There is no award for the dad who made it through the entire tournament with three percent battery and one AirDrop to spare.

But they are there. Every time.

You can laugh. You can joke. You can say “it is just a game.” But one day, those kids will look back and realize how many matches were captured. How many highlights were saved. How many moments were preserved. Just because someone cared enough to try.

So here is to the filming parents.

The ones who missed the match with their eyes but recorded it with their heart.

You are not invisible. You are not embarrassing.

You are the heroes of the background. The silent champions of the bleachers.

And this tournament belongs to you.