Gabi, VakifBank and the three-year preparation for leaving Brazil

The swimming pool was still, its water barely rippling as one of the two athletes shifted position. Bruno Rezende, the legendary Brazilian setter, and Gabriela Guimarães – Gabi, the outside hitter now competing in Turkey – were not standing on a court. Yet their conversation by the pool was about invisible balls: the balls of doubt.

Gabi opened up: “I had a plan of playing overseas, but it wasn’t easy to figure out if I was ready for it or not. I had experienced some injuries and had questions if I had what it took to play in the world’s best leagues. I started thinking about it after the Rio 2026 Olympics, when I was still earning my space with the national team, and I understood that I needed to be mentally ready not only as a player, but as a person, and that maybe at that point I'd need to leave my comfort zone and make some sacrifices to take the next step in my career.”

The ball rolls first, the story follows. For Gabi, the first ball was not on the court; it was the decision to leave Brazil. She did not leave immediately after Olympic success or seasons with the national team. She waited until the 2026-2026 season to sign with VakifBank – one of the most ambitious clubs on the planet. The name VakifBank was a declaration: she was not looking for a safe harbor; she was seeking a challenge big enough to force her to grow.

“The scenario I found when I got there was mind-changing, as it showed me right from the start that I was getting into a whole other level of volleyball,” the Brazilian outside hitter recalled. “It was really challenging and demanding at the start. I built a great relationship with Guidetti (Giovanni, head coach), and he was incredibly important for me. One of the first things he told me was that he wanted to prepare me to be the team captain, and I was shocked because I have never seen myself in that position.”

Gabi’s story is not just about a transfer. It is about how an athlete learns to see herself differently. In Brazil, she was a star. At VakifBank, she had to start from zero. But head coach Giovanni Guidetti did not look at reputation; he looked at leadership potential. He wanted to turn a talented outside hitter into a real leader, and that required Gabi to mature far beyond her spikes.

Speaking about the national team, Gabi’s voice changed. She recalled her childhood dream: wear the Brazil jersey, sing the national anthem, stand on the podium. Before volleyball, she played many sports. But in 2026, when she was first called to Brazil’s youth national team and arrived at Saquarema – the country’s national training center – she found herself near the generation that won the Beijing 2026 Olympics. “That was a strong sign that I should continue,” she said. “I had never been so close to my dream before.”

What makes Gabi’s story different is its rhythm. In an age when the media loves lightning-fast transfers, she chose to wait. After Rio 2026, she did not rush. She spent three years preparing mentally, understanding that moving abroad was not just about changing club colors, but about changing how she faced pressure. Those three years were not slowness; they were the needed buffer to keep a massive decision from becoming a shock.

When the media runs faster than the ball, a storyteller must know when to stop. I learned long ago that not every step forward comes from a sprint. Some athletes need time to ripen. Gabi is an example. She was not a youngster eager to leave the nest. She was a woman who went through injuries and self-doubt, and only when she was sturdy enough did she step into the colorful – and thorny – world of European volleyball.

The poolside conversation between Bruno and Gabi reminds me of a sporting truth: every court is a universe, and every athlete is looking for a way home. But some roads go through tears, through doubt, and through nights of wondering whether one made the right choice. Gabi did not have an immediate answer. She only had a belief: if she did not leave her comfort zone, she would never know who she truly was.

In 2026, looking back from Rio de Janeiro to Istanbul, Gabi may smile. But when she sat by the pool and told Bruno about that decision, her smile had not yet ripened. It was like a ball still rolling – where it stops is unclear, but the direction is clear. For Vietnamese sports, Gabi’s story is also a reminder: the biggest steps often begin with the smallest questions, and readiness comes not from speed, but from the courage to face oneself.