Twin Athletes Shine in Different Arenas at Lyons High

When you walk the halls of Lyons High, you’ll hear a lot of chatter about the Lee twins. Not because they’re on the same team—no, that would be too easy—but because they’re each making noise in their own world: Avery on the volleyball court and Jack on the football field.

It’s a strange kind of symmetry. The siblings are fraternal, not identical, and they’ve never really shared a locker room or a practice. In fact, most of the time they’re in completely different places. Jack will be sprinting down the sideline on a Friday night, while Avery is already packed up after a weekend tournament that started Friday afternoon. “I’ve tried to go to one of her games, but then my parents call me and they say the game’s already over,” Jack jokes, admitting that catching each other’s events is a logistical nightmare.

Avery feels the same way. “I’ve only managed to make it to two of his football games,” she says, laughing. “It’s the downside of being twins with no younger sibling to stagger the schedule.” Still, despite the calendar clashes, both twins share a scrappy, high‑energy style that coaches love.

Coach Jillian Bober, who leads the girls’ volleyball squad ranked No. 4 in the state, describes the 5‑foot‑2, 115‑pound Avery as “a little bundle of intensity” who will literally throw herself at a ball. “She’s scrappy, she sacrifices her body for every dig,” Bober says, recalling a match where Avery dove so hard she nearly knocked a chair over.

On the football side, 5‑foot‑9, 175‑pound Jack is a first‑year starter at cornerback for a Lions team that’s grinding its way into the playoffs. Coach Jon Beutjer praises his work ethic: “Jack stays after practice to work on his footwork. He plays bigger than his size, and he plays with his heart.” A recent interception against a top‑ranked Downers Grove North team still has the locker room buzzing.

Even though they rarely share a field, the twins’ competitiveness runs deep. At home, it’s a race to the front door to pet the family dog, or a showdown over who can carve the best pumpkin each autumn. “We’re competitive in everything,” Avery admits. “When Jack and I get home, it’s who can beat the other to the kitchen.”

They’ve even tried to team up once—joining an all‑boys soccer squad together in middle school—but ultimately their athletic paths diverged. Their parents, both former athletes, keep the competitive spirit alive, turning backyard wiffle‑ball and pre‑school basketball games into mini‑tournaments.

School isn’t any less divided. Apart from sharing kindergarten, they’ve been placed in separate classes for most of their academic career. “We argued a lot, so the teachers kept us apart,” Avery recalls. “We only had three classes together junior year.”

Now, as seniors, the rare moments they get to sit together—like this joint interview in the athletic office—are cherished. “Every time we see each other in the hallway, we give each other a little shove,” Avery says, a grin evident even through the microphone.

And yet, they both see the separation as a win. “If we were on the same team, we’d be competing at the exact same thing,” Jack muses. “It’s cool that we each get to shine in our own sport and still have each other’s back.”

When the final whistle blows on the football field and the last ball is set on the volleyball court, the Lee twins will still be cheering each other on from the sidelines—sometimes literally, sometimes figuratively, but always with that unmistakable twin bond.