Can Madisen Skinner lead Texas volleyball to a three-peat?

Skinner is heading to yoga class on a rare day off for the Texas volleyball team. She's wearing a touch of makeup, but it doesn't hide the bags under her eyes. The two-time defending national champions dropped a five-setter to Texas A&M the night before, the first of what would become a stunning three-game losing streak at home.

"You looked good yesterday," I say to Skinner. "How did you feel?"

"What happened yesterday?" she asks.

"Um, the match?"

"Oh right," she says. She pivots. "I haven't breathed since."

The 23-year-old fifth-year senior got home after midnight, then attended two morning classes and had back-to-back calls with her agents to discuss her professional volleyball options. Then she took Finley, her three-legged dog, for a walk before hopping in her car to meet me for yoga.

She walks over to a hole-in-the-wall juice shop and orders a blueberry smoothie. As she returns to the table, the man at the counter peeks out the shop's door.

"Do you go to UT?" he asks Skinner.

"Yes," she says, sipping her smoothie.

"Do you play volleyball?" he asks.

She nods.

"It's her!" he announces to the other employee inside the shop. A young Black woman runs out.

"You're Madi Skinner," she says.

She flashes a polite smile, then purses her lips and nods.

Being Madi Skinner means you're a Texas volleyball star. It means you're a three-time national champion. It means you can float like a drone and hammer a volleyball to the floor. It means you're revered for doing things that don't give you much joy. It means you're questioning whether volleyball should be a part of a future that has so many other tantalizing options. It means you wish everyone would stop looking to you for answers to why this Texas dynasty is in danger.

For now, mercifully, it means you're off to yoga.