I had a bunch of different colored hats I wore. When I started wearing a pink one, we won five or six tournaments in a row, so I stuck with it. It started as superstition and now it's tradition—my hideous trademark that I always wear.

I couldn't be messing around and acting like an 11-year-old if we expected to compete well. I wanted to compete well, because it was great to see the looks in the eyes of men—like, "Wow, I am having a hard time beating this kid."

It's the best. And the job site isn't too bad, either.

No volleyball play can begin without a serve, and the serve is the only technique that is totally under your control. In other endeavors, you cannot succeed without believing in yourself, and that belief is completely under your control.

We play at the world's most beautiful beaches but in the world's most challenging conditions. It is not like you play one match and you go back to air conditioning. We do it all day long.

When I was on the U.S. men's indoor team, I was on the road 200 days of the year and sometimes in the worst conditions. We didn't have the food or luxuries we wanted. We didn't have a laundry service. So every night after the match, I soaped up my uniform in the shower. I learned to rely on outside things as little as possible, whether it was music or massage. I just got out of the habit of relying on outside things.

I don't have to get myself pumped up or calm myself down. As we get into the later rounds of a tournament and there is more at stake, I have even more adrenaline. If we make the finals, it's just an extra opportunity to win a tournament at my age. That doesn't come along that often.