Picture the night before. Your kid has said yes to volleyball, you’ve said yes to the driving, and now you’re standing in the hallway holding one knee pad and wondering where the other one went. Nobody warns you that the hardest part of a first practice is the packing.

Here’s the good news: it’s simpler than it feels. If you just want the short answer on what to bring to first volleyball practice, it’s indoor shoes, comfortable clothes, knee pads, a big bottle of water and a snack. That’s genuinely it. The rest of this is the stuff people only learn the hard way.

Shoes first, because this is where everyone slips up

If you’re only going to spend money on one thing, spend it here. Running shoes feel like the obvious choice, but they have thick, squishy soles built for going forward in a straight line. Volleyball is all sideways steps, sudden stops and jumping, and in squishy shoes ankles roll. I’d rather you spend £40 now than deal with a sprain in week two.

Look for flat, grippy soles, a bit of ankle support, and a non-marking bottom, because plenty of gyms ban anything that leaves black streaks on the floor. Try them on in the afternoon when feet are a touch bigger, and leave a thumb’s width at the toe. Kids grow overnight, so don’t buy so snug they’re ruined by Christmas.

Can’t get proper ones before the first session? Clean, flat indoor trainers are fine for a week or two. Just not the pair they wore through a muddy playground that afternoon. Gym floors are sacred to the people who look after them.

Clothes that don’t fight back

Stretchy and breathable. That’s the whole rule. Shorts or leggings that won’t ride up, and a t-shirt that lets their arms go overhead without tugging. Skip hoodie strings, zips and anything dangly, because someone will catch a finger on it.

Tie long hair back and pack three or four spare hair ties. They disappear faster than socks do. And bring a light sweatshirt, since some sports halls are freezing for the first ten minutes.

Knee pads, yes, even for beginners

I’ve seen parents hesitate on these, thinking they’re for serious players only. They’re not. New players spend a lot of time on the floor, learning to dig and dive, and bare knees take a beating. Floor burn is miserable.

Nothing fancy needed. Have your child squat and walk around the shop in them. If they slide down or pinch behind the knee, try another size. And if you’d rather wait until you’ve seen a session first, that’s a perfectly sensible plan too, since some coaches have opinions on brands.

Water, snacks and the bag

A full water bottle with a lid that actually closes. Warm gyms dry kids out quickly, and a thirsty child can’t focus.

For snacks, think banana, crackers, or a small cereal bar. Nothing heavy, nothing sugary. Jumping around on a full stomach is a bad idea for everyone. If your child has allergies, tell the coach at the door, not halfway through.

Let your child carry their own bag, too. It seems tiny, but a kid who can find their own water bottle without shouting for you already feels a bit more like part of the team.

The small stuff people forget

Spare socks, because sweaty feet in the same pair for two hours is grim. A small towel. A few plasters if you’re staying to watch. And a scrap of paper with your phone number and any medical details, tucked in the bag, in case the coach needs it.

If you’re sticking around, bring a cushion or a jacket to sit on. Those bleachers are not designed for comfort.

What to leave at home

Jewellery, watches, dangly earrings. All of it is a risk in fast play. Phones can stay in the bag. And skip anything expensive that might get lost in a changing room, because it’s not worth the stress.

The part no checklist covers

Honestly, the bag is the easy bit. The harder part is the nerves. Your child might not know anyone, and might be quietly terrified of looking silly.

Get there ten or fifteen minutes early so they can look around and meet the coach without being rushed. Tell them everyone shanks a pass on day one, because it’s true. And afterwards, resist the urge to ask whether they were any good. Ask what was funny instead. You’ll hear far more.

Then step back. I know it’s tempting to call advice from the sideline, but kids settle faster when they’re left to figure it out. That’s what the coach is for.

One last thing

My honest advice? Don’t aim for perfect gear. Aim for a kid who walks in feeling ready enough and walks out wanting to come back. Pack the basics, be on time, stay calm yourself, and you’ve done your bit.

And if you forget something? The coach has almost certainly got a spare ball, a lost-property box and a story about forgetting everything on their own first day.