NCAA Week 3 Power 10: Tennessee overtakes Penn State — when rankings tell the story faster than reality

That Monday, I received a text from an old friend in Da Nang who has followed NCAA women's volleyball since his study-abroad days in the US: “Penn State dropped out of the Power 10, old man.” I opened NCAA.com and skimmed. A 3–1 loss to Tennessee, ranked 16th, on September 21, and analyst Michella Chester wrote that Tennessee was now “inside the sport's top tier.” I paused at that phrase. People light stadium lights to watch football; I light them to see the corners. And the corner of this week is not in the score, not in the ranking, but in how we read a match — too fast, too hurried, too obsessed with what we call “ranking.” Before discussing the match, we must discuss the context. The Power 10 is not an official NCAA ranking. It is a power ranking compiled by analyst Michella Chester on NCAA.com — an editorial product, nothing more. The only body with the authority to decide which teams enter the 64-team postseason tournament is the NCAA selection committee, using RPI and eye assessment. We need to remember this, because the confusion between “editorial” and “official” is where inflated stories are born. Penn State is one of the most traditional programs in American collegiate volleyball. They entered the third week of the season ranked ninth on the Power 10 and had never fallen out of the list all season. Tennessee, ranked 16th, from the SEC, was in the non-conference window — the golden phase to bank résumé wins before heading into conference play. On September 21, Tennessee won 3–1. Penn State described the defeat in two words: “unforced errors.” Their official site hung that headline like a thin mourning ribbon. The same week, TCU also entered the top 10, creating a structural shakeup rather than a single-team anomaly. I want to start the analysis with a name, not a ranking: Gabrielle Nichols, Penn State's setter. In the loss to Tennessee, Nichols recorded 38 assists and 12 digs — her third double-double of the season. In any volleyball culture, a setter with 12 digs is the image of diligence: she does not merely distribute the ball; she joins the defense like a libero. Alongside Ava Falduto, who led the team with 15 digs, Penn State generated significant defensive volume. In a losing effort, that usually means one thing: they extended many rallies but could not convert transition opportunities into points. But there is an uncomfortable truth I must face: we do not have enough data to assert anything with certainty. No set scores. No specific serving, attacking, or reception error counts. No scoring efficiency. Ryla Jones, the outside hitter named in the original article, does not even have a stat line. The source gives us half a story — and it is the half told by the losing team itself. When a team concludes that it lost because of “unforced errors,” it assigns itself a diagnosis. But that diagnosis lacks evidence. In tactical analysis, “unforced errors” is a symptom, not an explanation. Where did the errors concentrate? Reception? Wing attack? Serving? We do not know. For a team with a setter as complete as Nichols and a defender as sharp as Falduto, the problem could plausibly lie in the transition phase — from defense to offense — rather than in the tactical system or player quality. That is a hypothesis, I emphasize, but it is more reasonable than hastily concluding “Penn State is declining.” Standing between the track and the stands long enough, I know a record never belongs to one person alone. Penn State's achievements, whether winning streaks or historic seasons, were built by generations. A loss today does not erase that legacy, but a media ranking can — at least in the public eye. What troubles me more is how the Power 10 reacted. Week three of the season — too early to confirm any ascension. Tennessee won one big match and was labeled “inside the sport's top tier.” But one swallow does not make a summer. Collegiate volleyball history shows that “résumé-building win” narratives in the non-conference window are the most fragile. Conversely, Penn State fell out of the list — the first time this season — and was tagged with “decline.” The loss may have been a tight 1–3 with 23–25 sets, or it may have been a match that slipped away. But because no set scores were published, no one knows the true magnitude of the “upset.” But I realize something deeper about how we consume modern sports. The Power 10 is published weekly and designed to change. It is a media product, and media does not survive without volatility. A static list for ten weeks would generate no clicks, no comments, no ad revenue. So two teams entering the top 10 and one falling out — that is the perfect formula for a content week. I am not saying Tennessee is unworthy or TCU has not progressed. I am saying that, as a professional, I know the difference between a ranking that serves a story and a ranking that reflects true level. The Power 10 belongs to the former category. This is where American collegiate volleyball differs from the football I lived alongside. In the V-League or European leagues, a big team's defeat usually comes with a sea of data: possession, shots, passing accuracy. In the NCAA, numbers exist, but they are buried under narratives. And when data is incomplete, the story always wins. But is that story durable? No. At 64, after nearly half a century in press boxes, I have read too many athletic-department releases. There is an unwritten rule: after a highly ranked team loses, the release emphasizes standout individual performances within the loss — like a cushion for reputation. Gabrielle Nichols's name dominates the Volleyballmag.com piece not because she caused the defeat, but because she is the saving grace on a bad day. That is how schools protect their brand, and I understand it. But I also understand that fans need to be sharper. Here is the contrarian angle I want to offer readers: the Power 10 decides nothing. Penn State falling out of the Power 10 does not affect their NCAA Tournament chances at all. The only body with authority is the selection committee, and they look at RPI, schedule, and opponent strength. One non-conference loss in week three may nudge the RPI slightly, but a season is long. Media rankings change faster than reality. What happens if Tennessee loses two straight next week? Will they fall out of that “fake top tier”? And Penn State, if they win the next three, will return — and the “crisis” story will be forgotten as if it never existed. We live in an era when rankings are published weekly like weather reports. And we behave as if every shift in the wind is a geological event. American college sports are actually more forgiving: they do not crown a champion after three weeks. But analysts do. They need stories, they need change, they need shocks to keep readers. I do not blame them — I once did that job. But I want to remind myself and you: we should look at more matches, more weeks, more seasons. Let the on-court reality speak. And I believe great teams are not built by weekly shocks, but by persistence across a full season. For now, let us meet again in week eight, week twelve, at the December tournament. There, Penn State may have returned, Tennessee may have solidified, or both may be in a different story. This week's ranking is not a prophecy; it is a snapshot. And as I always say, the match ends, but the stands still echo inside me as a private space. The real matches are still ahead.