An Olympian Walks into a Bar

I have to write about Stefan Boermans, one of the coaches at the beach volleyball camp. Stefan placed fifth at the 2024 Paris Olympics, but the first time I noticed him was actually in Paris in 2023, coincidentally the last time I took a “spontaneous” international trip for volleyball.

I was watching a match on the outer court when I saw Stefan chatting with a Dutch fan sitting near me. Afterward, I struck up a conversation with the Dutchie (whose name I’ve forgotten), and it turned out he lived in The Hague, which is where the Dutch athletes train. At the time, I didn’t know much about Stefan beyond being a casual fan, but it was still fun to later realize that the guy I’d casually seen courtside in Paris would end up being one of the coaches at this camp.

While I enjoyed all of the coaches, I was pleasantly surprised that Stefan was also the best coach there. I say “pleasantly surprised” because the best players aren’t always the best coaches. Those are very different skill sets. Curious whether others felt the same way, I did an informal poll, and almost everybody said Stefan was their favorite coach as well.

For me, the difference between a good coach and a great one comes down to feedback. Not just instruction, but the ability to notice what’s going well, identify what needs work, and communicate both clearly. Stefan excelled at that. His technical instruction was strong, but what really stood out was how closely he paid attention and how quickly he adjusted us in real time. On top of that, he made the sessions genuinely fun, often incentivizing us to try things we might normally avoid, like jump setting.

Midweek, Stefan also gave a talk sharing his volleyball journey. He started playing indoor volleyball at 18, eventually made the Dutch national beach volleyball team, and grinded his way to the Paris Olympics in 2024. Then he pivoted to a breakdown of how they beat the Swedish wunderkinds (and eventual Paris gold medalists) Åhman and Hellvig in Doha in March 2024. He walked through everything, from preparation to reviewing match footage. It was fascinating and super interesting to me.

If I had one minor critique, it was that he spent part of the pre-lecture downtime playing Settlers of Catan, which suggested a questionable taste in board games.

By the end of the camp, I told Stefan how much we enjoyed both his coaching and his lecture. We chatted briefly about how I wanted to go to Gstaad, how much I hated Tepic, and how I’d first seen him in Paris in 2023.

On the last night, I went to a rooftop bar with the group. Stefan and Sasha (another coach I really liked) showed up shortly thereafter, and I grabbed them both beers before heading back to rejoin my friends. Later that night, I was at the bar getting another drink when Stefan walked up with Sam, another American.

“Ted, let me buy you a drink,” Stefan said.

“Oh no, let me get it,” I replied.

“No, it’s okay. I’m getting one for Sam too,” he said, explaining that he’d lost a bet and owed Sam a drink anyway.

I was struck by how kind he was, and by the fact that he remembered my name. Then again, maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. He’s just a normal person who happens to be much taller than me and exceptionally good at volleyball.

What I took away from the week wasn’t that Olympians are larger-than-life figures. It was almost the opposite. The people who impress you most are often the ones who aren’t trying to impress at all. They’re paying attention, giving thoughtful feedback, remembering names, and making the experience better for everyone around them.

And occasionally, they insist on playing Settlers of Catan, which is how you know they’re human too.