Pitt Panthers Rise to No. 1 in Power 10: When Victory Is a Story of People, Not Numbers

People turn on the stadium lights to watch volleyball; I turn them on to see the hidden corners. In Pittsburgh on the first week of the season, I did not stand in the main stands but in the corridor leading to the court, where young women stepped out with sleep still in their eyes after long flights. They did not know who I was, and that was good. I came to observe, not to interview. In the first week of NCAA Division I women's volleyball, the Pitt Panthers completed four consecutive victories, jumping from sixth place to the top of the NCAA.com Power 10 rankings. But I am not writing about the ranking. I am writing about the trembling hands before the ball is set. The context of this tournament is unlike any professional league I have ever covered. The NCAA is its own world, where athletes are both students and warriors competing for their university colors. The Power 10 is a ranking compiled by analyst Michella Chester of NCAA.com, based on subjective evaluation after each week of play. It is not an official ranking, it gives no direct advantage in qualifying, but it shapes the media narrative, shapes fan expectations, and sometimes, shapes the psychology of the girls on the court. The Pitt Panthers entered the opening week in sixth place. Four matches later, they sit at the top. This change did not come from magic, but from a series of small details that television never captures. First, let us talk about Olivia Babcock, Pitt's outside hitter. She scored double-digit kills in all four matches. No data on efficiency, no statistics on attack errors, just a very simple number: each match, she spiked the ball to the opponent's floor at least ten times. But I do not care about that number. I care about how she moved after the ball hit the floor. In the match against Kentucky, the team ranked third in the updated poll, Babcock did not shout when scoring the decisive point. She turned to look at her setter, as if the two had just completed a half-finished sentence. That was the moment I knew this team was not only technically strong, but also strong in mutual understanding. Pitt's heart beats in Izzy Starck, the setter whom analyst Chester described as making the Panthers' offense "limitless." I have heard this phrase used for the greatest setters in my career, from legends in the Chinese national league to young talents in European competitions. But what does "limitless" mean here? To me, after reviewing the game footage of all four matches, it means Starck never falls into a predictable pattern. She uses all attacking positions: outside, opposite, back-row, quick middle attacks. And more importantly, she knows when not to set the star player. In the Kentucky match, when Babcock was blocked twice in a row, Starck immediately set the ball to other positions, not to avoid, but to free up space for Babcock on the decisive plays. This does not show in statistics. It can only be seen with the eyes, with the patience to sit through game footage until four in the morning. But there is one detail that made me pause. Chester said Pitt's defense was even more impressive than its offense. This runs counter to the common narrative of a top-ranked team relying on attack. When I searched for data on blocks, digs, perfect passes, I found nothing. The analyst cited no numbers at all. That might be because she did not have the data, or because she understands that there are things numbers cannot express. I lean toward the second hypothesis. In the Kentucky match, I saw a play where Babcock did not score but dived to save a ball that seemed about to drop. She is not a libero, she did not have to do that. But she did. And the whole team saw it. I want to emphasize something I believe is central to this story: Pitt's victory is not the individual achievement of Babcock or Starck, but the product of a synchronized system where everyone accepts their role. In the Kentucky match, victory did not come from an extraordinary play, but from the team not collapsing after losing the first set. I reviewed the footage and noticed that after the lost set, Starck sat on the bench, saying nothing to her teammates, only looking into the eyes of each of them. That was not a pep talk. That was confirmation. And in the fourth set, with Pitt leading 24-20, Babcock stepped up to the service line and executed a serve aimed at the opponent's zone 5 as if she had known exactly where to place it from the start. That is tactics at the highest level. But I must ask the reverse question. Is this No. 1 ranking truly sustainable? Chester still says Nebraska is the most complete team, only that this week's results allowed Pitt to leapfrog them. Texas dropped to ninth after one imperfect week. That shows how fragile this early-season ranking is. Four wins is a signal, not a confirmation. The NCAA season usually lasts more than thirty matches, and a team can completely change its face between October and December. I have seen too many teams start the season with consecutive wins and then collapse in the crucial stretch. The question is not whether Pitt can win this week, but whether they can face defeat with the same calm as they faced the lost set against Kentucky. The biggest risk for this team, in my view, is not tactical. It is the reliance on two people. Babcock and Starck, the outside hitter and the setter, are the heart of the system. If either suffers an injury or has an off day, what happens? Are the other positions capable of carrying the load? I have no answer, because none of the four matches showed that situation. But I know that great teams do not only have stars; they have people ready to step up when the stars struggle. I have not seen that in Pitt. I see an excellent offensive system, a passionate defense, but I have not seen a third person step up to change the course of a match. This is where I want to share my contrarian perspective. Throughout my career, I have learned that the most highly rated teams are not those that win the most in the first week, but those capable of facing expectation. The No. 1 spot in the Power 10 is like an overly bright light. It exposes every flaw, magnifies every habit, turns a single error into a topic of social media chatter. If I were Pitt's coach, I would tell my players that this ranking has no value, that it is just a label for a moment, that the real season begins when pressure settles on their shoulders. And I would remind them that Nebraska is still there, with the most complete roster Chester has ever seen, waiting for the chance to reclaim the throne. I remember once, during a final in Moscow, I saw a team lose but the players did not hang their heads. They walked around the pitch, shaking hands with every fan, signing autographs for children. The white nights of Moscow taught me this: a team is not only measured by victories, but by how they face defeat. Pitt Panthers won this week. But I will not rush to any conclusion about them. I will wait to see what happens when they lose their first match, when the light of the Power 10 no longer shines on them. That is when I will turn on my own light, to see who they really are. The stands still echo in me like a private space. Pitt has given me an emotional week, but their story is only beginning to be written. Ahead of them are thirty matches, long trips, six a.m. practices, pains that cannot be spoken. If they keep the connection I saw on the court this week, they could be a special team. If not, the No. 1 spot will be just a beautiful memory. I hope they choose the first path, not because I am a journalist who favors results, but because I believe this sport can teach us a lot about persistence, about trusting those around you, and about rising after failure. And when the match ends, I will still turn on the light and look into the hidden corners. Always.