Introduction
As the title suggests, there is so much more to the great game of tennis than simply striking a ball. The intangibles that enable consistent winners, both on tour and at clubs around the world, are vital in a multi-faceted sport like tennis—a sport that requires not only physical, technical, and tactical skills, but also emotional and mental ones as well. The latter two have, thankfully, steadily evolved into an identifiable and coachable component, one that not so long ago was a complete mystery to most in that you either “had it” or you didn’t, and that was that. Of course, it’s a given that highly developed mechanical and physical skills are necessary to excel on the tennis court. However, what’s not a given for so many is developing an equally high level of mental and emotional control—especially for those moments when under extreme pressure. This is not only what makes the difference in players otherwise comparable in their ability with the racket, but also what’s ultimately essential in realizing one’s true game within . . . win or lose.
Regarding those mechanics, trust me, all the six-frame sequential shot-making photography in the world is never going to be the end-all to honing your ball-striking ability. Nor are any diagramed multi-shot patterns going to readily translate into a big plus in one’s match management skills. And you will not find any of the aforementioned in the body of work to follow. This is not Tennis for Dummies. Sorry, it’s just not that easy—especially in a day and age in which we are constantly conditioned to expect immediate gratification. So, you’d better start getting used to the fact that you’re going to need a coach to fully grasp all that’s needed—even the world’s best are subject to misperceptions and player’s block—to eventually consistently play to the limit of your given talent.
In the spirit of the late Jack Barnaby, whose career as a player, coach, and athletic advisor at Harvard University spanned seven decades—if you’re looking for a system of playing you will not find one in the ensuing pages. When asked at the height of his success what “system” he utilized, Barnaby stated that his goal was to “avoid all systems like the plague” and “adapt to the individual.” Further, the famed martial artist, teacher, and visionary, Bruce Lee, put a viable Eastern slant on the topic with, “I cannot teach you; only help you explore yourself. Nothing more.”
This guide does, however, take dead aim at those of you who have been playing the game for a while, paid some dues, and continue to be motivated to improve. Those that have maintained a reasonable fitness level, learned to handle the stick reasonably well—steadily learning the myriad grip changes and the accompanying variations in stroking paths for every shot—and who have, on occasion, been able to impress their sometimes skeptical selves with patches of outstanding shot-making, represent the heart and soul of tennis in clubs and at public parks around the world.
Amazingly, far too many of these passionately-committed-to-the-game players are too often not progressing—worse yet, they are completely stuck on a “plateau,” as it’s politely known—at a rate that’s perceived to be both significant and satisfying. This is precisely when the going gets especially tough, and why the spirit and drive within has to always strive to make sensible solutions.
The real stumbling block in the average club player’s tennis world is manifested daily in the fact that they are often blatant victims of their own lack of consistency. Then, cumulatively and predictably, the players domino into a state of self-doubt, unleashing the usual stream of well-intentioned yet undermining over-thinking. Sometimes—perhaps even more than just sometimes—you lose to players that you know you’re better than. Of even greater concern is the haunting sense that you’re without crystal clear solutions regarding how to regularly go about playing the personal best tennis that, deep down, you know you can play and have previously played, but never more than intermittently.
All that you’re going to need to be a mechanically solid player is addressed in the very first of six chapters. Unfortunately, some still stubbornly cling to the belief that all that’s really necessary to play the game well is made possible through good technique, and that’s it. Certainly, in the instance of dedicated club players, one must continually strive to not only offset the realities of aging through the daily pursuit of shot-making improvement, but also to keep pace with the game’s ever present raising of the bar. Nonetheless, it is still, and always will be, the individual mastery over the management of one’s accumulated physical and technical ability that not only embodies the primary message presented within—a distillation of over forty years experiencing the game at every level—but which also ultimately makes the difference.
To be sure, tennis is a very physical endeavour, not meant for the physically fragile or lazy. You’re running, jumping, reaching, reversing directions, and required to be at the exact right place at the exact right time in order to connect successfully with a relatively small ball flying through the air at constantly differing speeds—along with various spins as well. But, all things being relatively equal, it is the total development and possession of other powers, emotional and mental ones—along with a working knowledge of sound tactics—that separate the big dogs from the pack in any league. Surprisingly to many, these skills are also, in the end, instrumental in equipping players to consistently be able to take full advantage of their hard-earned ball-striking prowess. After all, it’s the unforced errors, the ones that you know all too well—the completely unnecessary ones that absolutely should not be happening—that drive club players in particular completely crazy, and that are always the most accurate and revealing statistic of one’s true playing ability at any level.
Always being able to play at, or at least play close to, your existing potential makes for an incredibly satisfying off-the-scale tennis experience. That developed ability is especially reinforcing, and confidence building, when compared to the wildly fluctuating up and down days that so many not only endure on a regular basis, but have subjected themselves to for years on end without any relief in sight.
Along with developing a common sense brand of conditioned response shot selection in singles and especially doubles, you’ll know that you’ve arrived when there is little or no thinking involved. Improving one’s sleight of hand with the racket, of course, never ends, is constantly evolving, and is very much a lifetime pursuit. Yet all the technical wizardry in the world will only take you so far if you do not possess the capacity to consistently manage that capability on a regular basis, particularly on the big points and big occasions. Regardless of the venue, you must always be able to raise your level of play, or at least right yourself, when the going gets tough, doubt enters into the equation, and you find yourself breaking down—above the neck.
The very best in the world—let’s say the top one hundred on the Association of Tennis Professionals (ATP) tour and the top fifty Women’s Tennis Association (WTA) players—are unquestionably more than able to strike all their shots with exceptional technical expertise and authority. Some, notably those with an especially explosive weapon, are at an advantage, but otherwise all operate with a similar set of tools. But the best of the best possess something more, something that’s recognizably extra—referred to lately as the X-factor. You can actually sense it from across the net, even at times through the limitations of television. This most often represents the difference between winning and losing, and always, at the very least, equates to the number one result—performing well regardless of the outcome.
A potentially championship football team featuring top players at every position, but without an outstanding quarterback to call the right plays, that makes the right split second decisions, stays cool under the gun, and adeptly takes full advantage of the talent and physicality at hand, will not only be consistently inconsistent, but mediocre at best.
If you have a fairly solid all-around game, often feeling like a million bucks when just hitting or practicing, but just as often feeling far less successful in producing the same mindset and results under the pressure of match play, you’ll be inconsistent and mediocre too. Sadly, you will, as a result, typically underachieve what is in reality actually possible for you right now—today!
The mercurial career of Andre Agassi has clearly illustrated, more than once, how important having your head in the right place really is. When Agassi is totally focused and committed, when he has that unmistakable look in his eye, he can be devastating and at times completely unstoppable—the derivation of his tour moniker, the “A-Train.” He can dominate from start to finish. He can even come from way behind, seemingly out of it, to win a Grand Slam. Yet when distracted for whatever reason, and unable or unwilling to quarterback himself well with conviction, his more than formidable arsenal can...
