Iron volleyball shuffled into August with the motto “Up the ante,” a slogan which would set the table for program-wide buy-in and raised the stakes for the 2025 season. 

The annual team theme, a program tradition, dealt motivation first: “bet on yourself” and “never fold” notes from head Coach Ms. Christine Konopasek, poker-chip stickers marking milestones and card draws tied to team rewards for hitting incentives—a wager that sometimes paid and sometimes didn’t.

By November, the Iron had pushed all their chips in: 34 wins, an undefeated Big 12 slate, 30 two-set sweeps, a 12-match hot-streak and hardware that hadn’t been on the table since 2016.

The Ironmen’s season ended Nov. 10, falling in two sets to Marist (34-5) in the Bradley-Bourbonnais Supersectional. But the run—a second straight regional title and the program’s first sectional crown since 2016—felt less like a bad beat and more like a full house built hand by hand.

The card motif started playfully, a way to build motivation and for the team to bond. 

Konopasek dealt every player a custom-ordered Iron volleyball deck of cards over the summer, then taught the team games on bus rides and in hotel lobbies.

Euchre became the team’s game of choice, a quick four-person contest that rewards trust, table talk and knowing when to call trump.

“Every kid got a deck of cards, and … before they knew what the theme was, we were trying to teach them how to play euchre,” Konopasek said.

On overnight tournaments, the team would be together, some girls playing euchre, another set playing sevens, another group something else.

“Everyone … playing something,” Konopasek said.

The cards weren’t a gimmick. They were a blueprint.

Practice and matches mirrored the table: read the room, bet on your teammate and if the score turns, don’t fold.

Senior captain Maggie Michaels said the buy-in changed the culture.

“Where we started [this summer] to where we are now,” Michaels said, “it’s a huge difference. The culture has grown so much.”

The cards build culture—chip-by-chip, from short stack to chip leader.

Nowhere was that more evident than against the Marist Redhawks, down big in the first set, Iron volleyball huddled for a second timeout.

The voice in the huddle wasn’t Konopasek’s.

Michigan State-commit Alana Whitfield took the circle, eyes locked, jaw set, pushing her chips in with a blunt challenge.

The team answered, dealing out its sharpest stretch of the season before ulitmately falling 25-21.

That roster, Michaels said, from sophomore Evie Mounce to seniors like Madeyln Perry, from every-match fixture Whitfield to reserve-players like Vivian Grojean “is such a supportive and loving group,” Michaels said.

A bond, Michael’s said, Konopasek was intrumental in creating.

“If you watch our bench ever, you have a handful of kids who are engaged in what their teammates are doing, celebrating them,” Konopasek said. “It’s a hard spot to be on the bench, but you wouldn’t necessarily know that from what they look like.”

Konopasek kept the stakes clear: be the best teammate in the room.

“You’re not going to get to play volleyball forever,” Konopasek said. “Being the best teammate” is the sure-bet.

The philosophy is a winning hand that the players keep after the final whistle, one that can “carry you through anything else,” Konopasek said.

While the players will leave with life-lessons, a payout the can take with them beyond Community, Konopasek is left with memories.

The veteran head coach comes back to a night of cards at Belleville, shuffles after tourney-play, sitting at a table of captains—senior leaders Sam Lakamp, Michaels and Whitfield.

“I’m going to be here way longer after they are,” Konopasek said, but that night is something she’ll hold onto forever.

“How do I ever forget Sam and Maggie and Alana and sitting and playing euchre?” Konopasek said. “It’s just such high-quality time with such great-character kids.”

The numbers, the stats, the scores, they say dominance—but the through line was connection.

Iron volleyball, Michaels said, “is so much more than a game. It’s the connections and the people that you meet through the sport.”

By the time the Ironmen pushed into the Supersectional, their tells were obvious: a bench that erupted for blocks, a sideline that manufactured enthusiasm on dead balls, a rotation that rarely blinked in tight second sets.

They didn’t always have the perfect draw, but they managed the pot—first ball touch, serve pressure, out-of-system swings—and kept dealing.

The team, Konopasek said, “are the morale, getting to be with them every day makes this job so fulfilling and fun.”

The last hand came up short against Marist. Still, Community walked away with a stack that mattered—a season of clean sweeps, a league title without a blemish, and a standard that should continue into the 2026 season. 

Michaels, who grew into the voice across timeouts and card tables alike, didn’t bother with poker faces when she reflected on the run.

“This volleyball program that I’ve been able to be a part of, and the people at Community—it’s been amazing,” Michaels said.

The 2025 motto asked them to raise. All season, they did—matching the call, trusting the partner, and, when the moment demanded it, they raised the stakes.