How to Be Like Mike

Read anything good lately?

I have. I’m reading Allegiant now, the third book in the Divergent trilogy, and if you haven’t read them yet, I suggest highly that you take your rump to a bookstore today and buy all three because they rock. But then again, I am an English teacher. And you’re a tennis player, so a dystopian text about a girl and a guy who fight for survival throughout the novel may or may not “float your boat,” if you will. BUT, let’s talk some more about books.

Books are inspiring. So are blogs. Maybe that’s why you are reading mine—you want to be inspired. I can provide that, but there is so much more in the world that can inspire you, and a lot of professional tennis players have written books that can make a world of difference in your outlook on tennis. Because, who are we kidding, if we all weren’t crazy coo-coo birds, we’d all be professional tennis players by now, right?

Obviously, you’re thinking, now, she’s going to tell me all the tennis players that have published books—Open by Andre Agassi, which is shockingly both sad and disturbing, so I don’t always suggest it, Winning Ugly by Brad Gilbert, which is a personal favorite, yada yada, but actually, I’m here to suggest, and to talk about, a book that I’ve just recently discovered, called How to Be Like Mike, which is about Michael Jordan. Yes, the basketball player. Because, at the end of the day, tennis isn’t like basketball, but, the mentality of an athlete is the same, whether it be basketball, tennis, cricket, golf, football, or hockey.

I like the concepts in this book already: how influences make a difference in athletics, or the concept that people do what people see, which makes who is your leader and who is your role model and coach important (Seminole High Performance, by the way, has the most passionate staff—we care about tennis, and nothing else. There are a lot of coaches out there that are in coaching for the wrong reasons—sometimes a means to an end, sometimes something as silly as outperforming others. But at the end of the day, what matters is who truly cares about tennis, and about kids. I know that I could write a novel about how much I care about kids, and how much I am devoted to the art of education and learning, how much of a nerd I am, and how much I adore the two things I teach, tennis and English. I could write a second and third novel about our other coaches that I work with, and it’ll be all this gushy stuff about how much of a role model they are to ME as a coach and how much I can see, day in and day out, that they truly care not only about winning but about making a good person, first and foremost, out of the player that is on the court. Whew, that was a bit of a digression...).

Other concepts in this book that I like include a chapter on leadership, which starts off with “Good leadership does not just attract followers. It produces more leaders.” As much as I can drone on about these subjects, which I plan on unpacking as I work through these concepts myself in future blogs, I suggest that you also pick up this book and see what it can do to you. A writer is always going to have their own opinions, their own style. You may like my style, but you may also really jive with the style of this author—my job, and the end of the day, is to inspire, even if that means that you pick up another author. 

The light at the end of the tunnel

Kelly* and I got to talking the other day about tennis. Shocker, I know, that one of my players wants to talk about tennis. She talked about how she was feeling like she couldn’t catch a break lately—how every tournament, she got unlucky in the first round, or didn’t play well, or the weather was too windy, or she played amazing but the girl she played was even more amazing. “But you wouldn’t know, since you were, like, amazing in college,” she mutters, almost under her breath. I stop, scrunching my eyebrows, a deep furrow developing on my forehead. “Um, yeah, about that…”

So I went on to tell her that even though I accomplished a lot in college, that accomplishment shines through the fight of challenging matches, of ten match losing streaks, of fight after fight with coaches and family, of sweat, blood, tears, and achy muscles. Never, for a moment, think that a top player hasn’t gone through pain and disappointment. It is that very disappointment that drives a good player into the battle of making themselves better, what makes a good player turn into a great player, and what turns a great player into “amazing.” I told Kelly about my ten match losing streak in college. I’ll never forget it—junior year, and I felt like the world was against me. I could not, even through fights and battles and eventually, fight wounds and battle scars, win a match. I don’t remember how it started—it seems to me that my lows always match my highs in tennis. I couldn’t tell you what triggered it either; and a lot of times, junior players also tell me that I don’t know, I just can’t win. I’m doing everything right, why is everything going wrong? And usually, my response is keep your chin up, keep working, head down, feet moving, keep working, keep moving, keep going. But Kelly’s conversation got me thinking—what on earth kept me moving when I was down? Yes of course my family and friends and loved ones and coaches told me the same things I know tell my students, but at the end of the day, I was the one who fought the battles, I was the one who saw the light at the end of the tunnel, I was the one who on that 11^th match heard that little voice in my own head, my own self, quietly protesting “No, you will not lose. You will not lose again. You will not. You will do everything that is in your power to get through this, and you can do it.” 

Minus the fact that I had a little bit of an out of body experience, what triggered that? What got through the musings of my inner self after the ninth match that kept kicking me down “You suck, you’re terrible, you can’t play for your life, why don’t you use quit, you’re useless,” got me to hear that little voice, that voice of stoic resistance? I always tell kids focus on what you can control, but when it happened to me, could I focus on what I could control? Did I follow my own advice? My thoughts in this conversation spiraled. What on earth can I say to this girl to make her feel better other than you can do it, I believe in you? 

Fight. Fight with your own brain sometimes, fight with all of your strength, mentally and physically, because believe it or not, if you fake it, that wall that you felt was impenetrable will eventually fall to your tenacity, to your willingness to not give up. I remember now—it was me who asked for more lessons after I had finished practice and fitness and training. It was me who , through my own stubbornness (yes, I am a Capricorn after all), said I will try anything, I will do anything, including run to the net at match point with a serve and volley even though I am terrified by the net, to break through this, because at the end of the day, it wasn’t about winning or losing after all, it was about beating my own self-doubt, my own negativity, my own self, in a way, that got me out to see the light at the end of the tunnel.     

*Of course, I changed the name. :)

Tennis outside of Tennis

I know, I'm getting all Plato on you all. What, do you think, is the philosophical inquisition of tennis outside of tennis? Actually, instead of sounding fancy and smart (I have a masters degree after all), I'll explain what I mean in simple terms, because, unlike what Plato thought, simple is best.

Tennis outside of tennis to me means what goes on outside of the court. Now, I could write a book on this. I could talk about fitness, I can talk about nutrition, I can talk about motivation. What I want to talk about, though, is what physically can be happening outside of the cage that is the court during a match. Often, I see a player look over to me as the coach, with either a deer-in-headlights "help" look in their eyes, or a look of "see-I-did-what-you-told-me-and-it-didn't-work-did-it." Sometimes I'll get the elusive "This-is-awesome-I'm totally-having-fun-and-kicking-butt-and-I-want-to-share-this-awesomeness-with-you-cuz-you-rock" look. Oftentimes my look back to any of these is a look that says "Stop-looking-at-me."

It's not just about looks back and forth. First of all, looks shouldn't be happening because once you are on the court, you are in the cage fight that, unfortunately for everyone outside of the match, is only your cage fight. Unfortunately again, this often doesn't happen that way. Ideally, you play against your opponent and only your opponent. You fix all the issues that happen by yourself, because tennis is an individual sport. Sometimes though, others get involved. I've seen parents yell at their own children outside of the fence. I've seen parents yell at the opponent outside of the fence. I've seen refs that make blatant errors in calls. I've been told by refs while I was playing on the court that a.) I play well (at 5-5 in the first set) b.) that the ball I hit was in but "I didn't want to overrule it" and c.) that "I heard the ball hit your shoe as it was sailing four feet out and thus it is the other players point." I've seen coaches stand behind players courts and speak to them in their own language, saying whatever comes to mind. I imagine if I asked players anywhere about horror stories about what happened during a match, often what I would hear would not be what the opponent did, but what someone outside of the court did instead.

The more I played, the more I realized how focused you needed to be on the court. The court is your cage, and as soon as you enter it, nothing outside of that cage matters, even if it takes forceful focus to keep you playing just the ball. Regardless of what happens, at the end of the day, it is you, not your mom, or your coach, or your opponent's dad, or the ref, that wins or loses a match. It is all about how you play, and if you let others get under your skin. Tennis, like most sports, requires a thick skin and a stubbornness and laser focus that many people who don't play competitively don't understand. That thick skin develops as you develop that laser focus, and experience more "crazy stories" and learn to brush it off instead. Remember how Federer got rushed by a crazed-in-love fan at a tournament? He was spooked, but after one shaky point, he zeroed in his lazer focus and continued to dominate that match. You can never predict what will happen in tennis outside of tennis, but what you can work on is developing that thick skin to combat it.  

Practice Makes Perfect

You’ve heard this tried and true title. Practice makes perfect, right? If you could hit 100 balls crosscourt, good. 1000? Better. The more you practice, the less you have to perfect things like technique in a match and focus more on placement and strategy. Ideally, every player should be practicing enough where technique is the least of their worries during a match, other than perhaps a small adjustment from time to time, like adjusting footwork or hitting heavier topspin. But what I see in matches most is mental battles more than physical. I see it all the time; on the practice court, players do fabulously. They work hard, train hard, eat well, and do everything to set themselves up right, but when they go out to a match environment, a higher level tournament, their brains eat away at the practice they’ve built up. Thoughts. “I shouldn’t be here.” “These girls/guys are too good for me.” “I have to play really well to compete with these players.” “I can’t do this.” Mental battles are the toughest—ask anyone on the pro tour, a college athlete, or anyone who competes at a high level; tennis is tough, but the mentality needed to be a tennis player is tougher. I can’t tell you I have it all figured out—when I was playing, I had my own demons to fight, my own battles to, well, battle. 

Mental strength takes as much practice as physical practice does. Putting yourself in a match play pressure environment is hard to do without playing tournaments, so the least you can do for your mental strength is to play more tournaments. With each match, whether a win or a loss, an experience and a lesson can be made. With a coach by your side, these lessons can become valuable experiences that you then bring, as practice, to your next match situation. Other mental practices that can help tennis players include working off the court on things you know you need as an individual player. I always had very little patience on the court, so off the court, I would connect puzzle pieces. Eventually I worked my way up to making 3D puzzles that took patience and time to complete—I learned how to translate patience from connecting puzzles to the court when I needed to, metaphorically speaking, connect points together to form a winning match. Other players have different issues. Some fairly universal issues include issues with confidence. Confidence is a tricky mental aspect of the game. Of course, the more you win, the more confidence you get. The catch 22- you can’t win when you don’t have enough confidence in winning. It’s a “fake it till you make it” kind of deal here—you have to go out, no matter how scared you are, with the attitude that you will beat the player on the other side. Ideally, you’ll focus on playing the ball rather than your opponent. Practicing on court through practice can give you some confidence. Another aspect of confidence includes not looking at the draw. Sometimes players over-think their opponent’s skill. Looking up your opponent is another no-no. You never know what kind of day it will be, how you will play, how they will play, and how circumstances can affect the match. Weather, something completely out of your control, can affect a match. So can an unruly call if you let it. Mental battles come down to not only practicing but also acknowledging your faults mentally and figuring out a way of dealing with these faults. If you deny that you have any mental struggles, they will never go away, and will always haunt you on the court.   

Court Surfaces

"Show me the mark"
"But we're on a hard court, there are no marks"
"No, if you hit it hard enough, there will be a mark, and I hit it hard enough"
"But we're on a hard court."
"On clay you would have showed me the mark"
"But we're on a hard court."

Daily life as a coach has it's funny moments; I should write a blog on "What tennis kids say" and I bet you'd be laughing the whole time. But in all seriousness, let's chat about court surfaces. I could probably write a whole novel on the court surface. You may ask-- what, will there be four chapters? Grass, hard, clay, and carpet (yes, there is such thing as a carpet court)? While I could technically write four chapters, I could also write four chapters just on the hard court. Hard courts, while all faster than clay, bouncier than grass, and slower than carpet, vary greatly from one to the other, probably more so than any other surface. There are hard courts that have just recently been resurfaced, which is a conversation I've had recently with one of my players, that are slower than courts that haven't been resurfaced in a while. A lot of times, players shift from courts that are public to country club courts that are better taken care of and notice a big difference in how the ball bounces and the quickness of the court. This is why I always tell players to head to a tournament a day early to get used to the court. Courts change, the atmosphere and weather change the way the ball bounces as well as it's speed (don't believe me? Go play in Costa Rica, where high altitude makes the ball speed so fast that you'll whiff the first few balls hitting completely). Notice right away the height of the ball when it bounces as well as the speed with which it bounces, and you'll be able to adjust your timing accordingly.

Clay varies less than hard court, but still varies. Similar to how the hard courts need to be resurfaced every once in a while, clay courts need to be watered. Yes, watered. They don't sprout growth, but the clay needs to remain fairly moist or else the wind will dry out the clay and a.) make it resemble ice and b.) blow it away, leaving a court that is essentially a hard court with sand on it. The wetter the clay, the slower the bounce. Red clay is usually slower than green clay, but very seldom will a junior player compete on red clay in the states. Unlike hard, contrary to some players I see, sliding is meant for clay, not hard. Our tennis shoes, unlike basketball shoes that cover the ankle, make it very easy to twist and sprain an ankle if we are not careful sliding on hard court. Clay court, on the contrary, works well with sliding. Growing up on clay, I would practice sliding when I would sprint to ensure I was able to coordinate my slide. Not playing on clay? Don't practice sliding. :)

Grass court is another surface very seldom played on by junior tennis players, but when or if you do have a chance to do so, grass is really fun to play on, and roll around in. But seriously, grass is a surface that you need to play smart on. Because the ball doesn't bounce high, hitting slices or softer shots actually works better than hitting through the shot sometimes on grass, because the ball digs into the grass and stops completely, forcing either an uncomfortable bounce or a very low ball that is hard to get back without hitting high, an easy put away volley. Net players thrive on grass. Grass also wears down throughout a tournament, hence the more "hard courty" feel of the court once Wimbledon gets down to the last matches of the tournament.

Carpet I've played on once in my life. It's an interesting experience. The carpet typically is placed over a wooden surface, making the court very slick without the carpet on top. Regardless, the ball skids like crazy, and with a large backswing, it's impossible to not catch the ball late. The chance that you hit on carpet? Not likely. Play a tournament on carpet? I haven't even heard of carpet tournaments in the US. If you end up traveling, then perhaps, but otherwise you'll stick with the green clay and hard court that you are familiar with.

Adjust accordingly! Be smart and play with the court surface, not against it.

Doubles Strategies

It’s been a while since I’ve gotten technical, so I thought I’d talk about doubles prior to the State Closed Doubles championships this upcoming weekend that Seminole HP will be representing deeply in. We have at least four doubles teams going, and we wish them the best of luck at this tournament. We’ve been working on doubles this week, and I’ve noticed some doubles strategies that can be useful for players that they don’t incorporate. The Seminole HP coaches always talk about the three most important things in doubles (I would hope that our players would be able to recite them in their sleep by now):

1.) First serve percentage: Without a first serve, you are instantly on the defensive, which is the opposite of what you want to be. 

2.) Communication: Doubles is just that: if you play as a team, you can be double the trouble. Players that complement each other in their tennis styles especially need to talk to each other, from where to stand to how one expects the other to play. Always call where the serve is going and where the volleyer is going to move. When you are deciding whether or not to drill a return of serve at the net player down the line, let your partner know so they aren’t blindsided if you pop an easy shot to the volley and they end up a sit and duck. Communication during the point is also important; “Up” signals both players to move into the net, while “You” or “Got it” signifies who moves where, usually with one player crossing the court to hold the other side down. 

3.) Keeping it simple: Everyone wants the ESPN shot. Well, news flash—ESPN isn’t there at your tennis match to broadcast your fancy little volley dropshot. Usually teams that end up at the net being aggressive are the victors in doubles. There are some teams, however, that hold down the court while both on the baseline outstandingly. It really depends on who you’re playing with and how you and your partner normally play. Whatever you do, keep it simple. First serve percentage is high, the volleyer and the baseliner move but aren’t trying to do too much, moving and poaching on shots that are realistic, and are keeping the ball play through the middle rather than trying to thread a needle by attempting to pass the volleyer through the doubles alley (unlike alligators and dinosaurs, humans do have arms that can reach out the length of the doubles alley) . 

As for strategies, the go-to strategy, whether boys or girls tennis, is keeping it consistently crosscourt between the two baselines until a.) one of the baseliners moves in or b.) the volleyer poaches. When both your opponents are at the net, be ready for a drop shot, and, depending on where they are standing, incorporate lobs or low, off-pace shots that dip at their feet. Make them volley! If you are hitting at them, (ideally you should hit through the middle), make sure it’s at their hips rather than a higher volley that is easy to put away. When both opponents are on the baseline, instead of patty-caking it back and forth, be aggressive and move up to the net when you can, and use the drop shots or shorter balls to move your opponents across the court. A strategy that makes a big difference in my eyes is movement and where you are standing. I played a tournament last weekend and noticed that all the people stood practically in the doubles alley when I was returning. Because they lacked presence, I didn’t even see them in my peripheral vision, making it easy to hit my shots. I also had more room to move the baseliner around. When I played in college and girls were standing in the middle of the box, I felt pressure to really get it crosscourt, and missed more often. Do that to your opponent. Make yourself visible to the opponents. 

Doubles is all about teamwork and footwork. Some people think that it is easier than singles, but it is a bit more complex and still requires a lot of effort even if you are technically covering only half the court. Doubles is intense but fun, so the best advice I can give always is to enjoy it!

When Plan A Isn't Working

                We talk about plan A all the time. What kind of player are you? I ask my players when we sit down and chat. Most of the time, the answer is clear—I’m a hitter; I love to be aggressive and go for the lines, or, I’m really fast and can grind anyone down by getting to every ball. Sometimes, though, when you are out on the court already and that plan A game isn’t working, you need to come up with something to do. Maybe you aren’t hitting well; maybe you’re sore and can’t move as well. Sometimes your plan A fits the opponent’s game perfectly; there is nothing worse than playing a grinder when you’re an aggressive player that goes for shots that, naturally, the grinder will get to and get back. Sometimes plan A needs to change, and sometimes, plan B and plan C have to change too. It is important at this point to realize you have to be in a state of mind to be able to think clearly about these plans on your own on the court instead of silently (or not so silently) cursing your luck that day. I used to be that plan A and only plan A player. I would go out, close my eyes, hit every ball mock ten, and either come off of the court with an easy win or an easy loss. Only when I got older and a bit more steady mentally I realized hey, maybe against this aggressive player I need to do something that will be uncomfortable for them, say, grind it out a bit. This doesn’t mean that you have to change your plan A. Plan A should always be what you start off with, but plan A sometimes changes to plan B, and plan B to C, and so on and so forth. 

                Then comes the question, what, exactly, is plan B? Or C? Or D? Plan A is always your game—you start off with it no matter what. If something isn’t working, or if you feel like your opponent is getting the best out of your plan A, then it is time to switch to plan B. Plan B is usually a game that you are slightly uncomfortable playing, but will still be able to do. For example, my plan A was always being the aggressor; mock ten it is. But sometimes, I wasn’t firing on all cylinders. Sometimes my opponent loved getting the ball flat. My B plan was to grind a bit more. I was still being aggressive, but adding top spin and height enough to ensure longer points and a slightly different game plan. My plan C was running to the net more often; plan D was giving a different ball each time. Your different lettered plans depend on one thing—you. It is good to sit down with your coach from Seminole High Performance and strategize about your different game plans, that way, when you are on court yourself in the cage of the court, you don’t have to look over to your mom or your dad or your coach with the look a deer in headlights silently communicating “I’m panicking EVER so slightly!” You can grab your towel, slow your breathes down, and think—I’m going to go ahead and change my game plan. Sometimes it can be as simple as “I’m going to hit every ball from now on crosscourt” or “I’m going to add some slices to see if this guy/girl can handle a lower, slower paced shot.” Sometimes it’s a complete overhaul—I’m down 5-0, I need to change something, I’m going to go from grinding to hitting the ball and see if my opponent can keep up (hopefully, by the way, you’re thinking about changing something prior to the 5-0 point, but…), ect., ect. 

                Game plans are important, but I cannot emphasize enough that first and foremost your game plan is the one you start with and is the most important. Molding to each player individually is smart, but strengthening your own game that you are comfortable with makes your game a weapon, rather than yourself a silly putty that shapes to whatever your opponent throws at you, hoping that you can figure something out when you get on court. Plan A is always your priority, but you have to remain flexible enough to incorporate the other letters if you need to also.