2027 Women's Volleyball World Championship in Anaheim: When the 'Rehearsal' Becomes the 'Arena'

I remember the day the organizers announced that Anaheim would host the 2027 Women's Volleyball World Championship. Not because I was there, but because I was sitting in the studio of Nagoya Television, watching the press conference on screen, and I realized something immediately: this was not an announcement about a location. This was a statement. The Honda Center – home of the NHL's Anaheim Ducks – would become the center of the women's volleyball world in the summer of 2027. But what caught my attention was not the name Anaheim. It was how they called it: a 'rehearsal'. One year before the 2028 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles, Anaheim would be the 'practice gym' for the biggest tournament on the planet. And I asked myself: since when does a world championship get positioned as a rehearsal? When did the main stage become the understudy to another event? I have spent 42 years covering women's volleyball. I have witnessed matches in Belgrade, in Nagoya, in Jordan, in Tokyo. I cried on live television when Mana Iwabuchi spun and scored in the 67th minute at the 2026 AFC Women's Asian Cup. I interviewed Hedvig Lindahl after the 2026 Tokyo Olympic final, when she spoke about playing 120 minutes in 34-degree Celsius heat and not being able to sleep because she was worried about her younger teammates. And in all those years, I have never seen a women's volleyball tournament treated as a 'rehearsal' for another event. This made me pause and think. Not about Anaheim. But about how we are shaping the value of women's volleyball in the global sports landscape. The Honda Center has a capacity of approximately 18,000 seats. It is a top-tier multi-purpose arena in Southern California, having hosted NBA games, NHL games, and international music events. In terms of facilities, there is nothing to argue about. But the question is: can an arena designed for basketball and hockey create the distinctive atmosphere of women's volleyball? I have sat in arenas like this. The lighting is often designed for sports with large balls, not for the fast and subtle movements of volleyball. The distance from the stands to the court can be too far, preventing fans from feeling every drop of sweat, every breath, every frown of the athletes. And in women's volleyball, those smallest details are the soul of the match. I remember the women's volleyball tournaments I have covered in Japan. Arenas like Yoyogi National Gymnasium in Tokyo, or Nippon Gaishi Hall in Nagoya – places designed specifically for volleyball, where spectators can hear the footsteps of the libero on the wooden floor, the sound of the ball bouncing off the spiker's hand, the sigh of the coach when the team loses a point. These are the sounds I call 'the heartbeat of women's volleyball'. Can the Honda Center recreate that heartbeat? Or will it just be a large, cold space where those sounds are swallowed by the sound system and lighting of a multi-purpose arena? But perhaps I am being too pessimistic. Because behind the decision to choose Anaheim, there is a strategic logic that I must acknowledge. The 2028 Summer Olympics will take place in Los Angeles. And women's volleyball – as one of the most beloved sports at the Olympics – will be one of the focal points of the Games. Organizing the 2027 Women's Volleyball World Championship in Anaheim, less than 50 km from Los Angeles, is a logical preparation step. Athletes will have the opportunity to get used to the Southern California climate, the time zone, the competition conditions. Officials will have the opportunity to test the organizational system, from transportation to media. And most importantly, American fans will have the opportunity to experience top-level women's volleyball before the Olympics. But this is exactly the point where I want to pause. Because how we call an event shapes how we treat it. If we call the 2027 Women's Volleyball World Championship a 'rehearsal' for the 2028 Olympics, then unwittingly, we are placing it in a secondary position. We are telling the athletes: 'Come here, play your hardest, but remember that the real tournament is next year.' We are telling the fans: 'Come watch, but don't take it too seriously, because this is just a stepping stone.' And this, in my view, is an undervaluation of women's volleyball. I have witnessed something similar in the past. In 2026, when the AFC Women's Asian Cup took place in Jordan, there was a view that this was just a 'warm-up tournament' for the 2026 FIFA Women's World Cup in France. And what was the result? The matches in Jordan took place in an empty atmosphere, lacking international media attention, and many athletes spoke out about feeling undervalued. Meanwhile, the matches at the 2026 World Cup – although not necessarily higher in technical quality – received many times more attention. The difference was not in the quality of football. It was in how we positioned the tournament. So what will happen with the 2027 Women's Volleyball World Championship? Will it become a volleyball version of the Jordan 2026 story? Or will the organizers find a way to make it an event with independent value, not just a stepping stone to the Olympics? The answer, in my view, lies in three factors: tournament format, media rights, and the Olympic qualification mechanism. The tournament format of the 2027 Women's Volleyball World Championship will be the first factor determining the value of the tournament. If the tournament is organized with 24 teams, divided into round-robin groups, followed by a knockout stage, then this will be a highly competitive tournament. Women's volleyball today is witnessing the strong rise of many countries: Italy, Serbia, Brazil, the USA, China, Japan, Poland, Turkey. Each team has its own stars and tactical systems. A tournament gathering 24 top teams will be an opportunity for these teams to demonstrate their strength, and also an opportunity for emerging teams like Vietnam, Thailand, or Colombia to assert their position. But the format is only one part. What matters more is media rights. Which channels will broadcast the 2027 Women's Volleyball World Championship live? How many matches will be broadcast globally? Will television stations in Asia – where women's volleyball has a large fan base – have access to the matches? I have witnessed women's volleyball tournaments being 'hidden' behind media rights paywalls, preventing fans in Japan, Vietnam, or Thailand from following their national teams. This not only reduces the commercial value of the tournament but also reduces its spiritual value. And finally, the Olympic qualification mechanism will be the final determining factor. If the 2027 Women's Volleyball World Championship is used as one of the pathways to qualify for the 2028 Olympics, then its value will increase significantly. Teams will have to play with all their might, because every match could be an opportunity or an obstacle on the road to Los Angeles. Conversely, if the tournament is merely 'exhibition' in nature and Olympic berths are decided by other tournaments, then its value will be significantly reduced. I have said: 'Women's football does not need to be saved; it needs someone to look long enough.' That statement can apply to women's volleyball. The 2027 Women's Volleyball World Championship in Anaheim does not need to be saved. It needs organizers who are willing to look long enough to understand that: a world championship is not a 'rehearsal'. It is an event with its own value, its own history, its own moments that no Olympics can replace. I remember the years I worked at Belgrade Television, starting in 2026. Back then, I was just a young reporter, assigned to cover women's volleyball tournaments. I learned something that I have carried with me for 42 years: that the value of a tournament does not lie in where it leads, but in its journey itself. The tears of athletes when they win, the hugs after a loss, the moments of silence in the stands when a play is too beautiful – these are things that cannot be measured by Olympic berths or sponsorship contracts. And I believe that, at 58, I no longer remember the scores of the matches I have covered. I remember the faces of those who scored. I remember the eyes of the liberos when they dove to save the ball. I remember the tears of coaches when their teams were eliminated. These are memories that do not belong to any specific tournament. They belong to women's volleyball as a whole. And they will never be replaced by a 'rehearsal'. So when the 2027 Women's Volleyball World Championship kicks off in Anaheim, I will be there – whether on screen or in the stands. I will follow every match with the eye of a storyteller, not an evaluator. And I will remind myself that: every tournament, whatever it is called, has its own value. Because the ball does not cry, but those who witness it do. And those tears – whether they fall in Anaheim, in Los Angeles, or anywhere else – deserve to be seen, remembered, and cherished. Tokyo left me behind in a twist of fate. But in that twist, I found tactics. And those tactics taught me that: sometimes, how we position an event matters more than the event itself. The 2027 Women's Volleyball World Championship in Anaheim can be a 'rehearsal'. Or it can be a historic moment. It all depends on how we choose to see it – and look long enough to understand it.