Normal Ill…“Steve, baby’s coming. Not going to be there tonight.” At 7:30 a.m. on game day, Steve Wrzala’s phone rang.
The voice on the other end was ISU Head Volleyball Coach Allie Matters—who was supposed to lead the Redbirds into a rivalry match against Bradley that night. But instead, she was heading to the hospital to welcome her first child. There would be no sideline strategy, no pregame speech. Just Steve, a handful of assistant coaches, and a team counting on him to keep everything from unraveling.
By the end of the night, Illinois State had won a five-set thriller while their head coach watched from her hospital room, holding her newborn daughter.
“That day, we had a new child born, one of our starters got hurt, and we still found a way to win in five.”
It’s the kind of story you’d expect from a movie—not from the Director of Volleyball Operations. But for Wrzala, moments like this are what make the chaos worth it.
Wrzala’s journey to this role wasn’t traditional. He grew up playing hockey, not volleyball. He was a communications major, not a kinesiology guy. He spent his college years behind microphones and cameras with WZND, TV10, and Redbird Productions. Sports broadcasting was his dream—or so he thought.
“When I was in college and undergrad, I thought my avenue into sport was going to be through the broadcasting realm… Honestly, I still do.”
After graduating, Wrzala landed a post-grad operations job with the Chicago Bulls. The experience was everything he hoped for—but still, it didn’t feel like home. He returned to ISU to earn a master’s in sport management and soon realized his calling was college athletics.
“You make an impact at the pro or college level, but you can make a little bit more of an authentic impact on student-athletes in college.”
Today, Wrzala’s job touches nearly every corner of the volleyball program. On any given day, he’s coordinating travel itineraries, meal plans, housing assignments, practice schedules, onboarding paperwork, and budget spreadsheets—all while fielding last-minute texts from players, staff, and campus partners.
And some days? Absolute chaos.
There’s the infamous Cincinnati story, when a late-night match ran long and the original meal plan fell through. Wrzala found a sandwich shop online and sent the team there—only to find himself navigating a bar-packed street scene.
“People were asking if they could get on our bus just, you know, for a free Uber for the night.”
Lesson learned: always have backups. Preferably three.
Wrzala doesn’t coach volleyball—and he’ll be the first to say it.
“If you’re looking for me to give you an X’s and O’s type of thing for us to win a match, you’re going to have to look elsewhere. But I can tell you when the meal’s coming. I can tell you where the hotel is.”
But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know the game. He takes passing stats and serves as a sideline spotter. He watches body language during timeouts. He notices when a player’s frustrated and knows who needs Skittles to reset.
Yes, Skittles. One of the freshmen calls it her “Space Jam water.”
“It sounds hilarious, but I’m telling you—it works.”
Beyond stats and snacks, Steve sees himself as a mentor. That role grew even more personal after he lost his mother unexpectedly—a loss that continues to shape how he works.
“She was a person that did everything for others. I’m living in her honor now through my job.”
“My mom used to always tell us that you need a sister in your life. Well, guess what, Mom? I’ve got 18 of them now.”
Five years into his operations role, Wrzala still finds himself pulling tools from his communication degree. When the team played a spring match in Iowa wearing unnumbered practice shirts, the PA announcer had no way to call the game.
Wrzala sat beside him and spotted the match live.
“I was in the School of Communication. I said, ‘Sure.’ So five years into my operations job, I’m using tools I learned in Comm Building 1A.”
His job is a daily exercise in multitasking. He jokes that his team has timed Starbucks walks on the road—and that finding a hotel within walking distance of a Dunkin' or Starbucks is a legitimate part of the planning process.
But there’s nothing light about the weight he carries.
“There isn’t a degree that says you’re ready to do operations. Your degree prepares you for it. Then you learn on the job.”
Wrzala doesn’t need praise. He doesn’t need headlines. In fact, he says the best days are the ones where no one even notices what he’s done.
“If nobody notices that something went wrong, I had a pretty good day in the office.”
But when Redbird Volleyball wins a championship, his ring is just as big as the players’. Because the program doesn’t run without him. And they all know it.
“Anytime anybody wants to get anything from Redbird Volleyball… they go through Steve.”
And if you’re lucky enough to go through Steve, you’re in good hands.
Strategic Sports Communication, Tom Lamonica, Illinois State University
