The stage was set, I knew who I had in the draw and had a few weeks to prepare for it. I even scaled back by practice that week and pulled out of a softball game with the guys just so I could be as fresh as a daisy. My preparation couldnt have been any better, I had picked up my freshly strung racquets from the local store and put two new tournagrips on them, I must say they looked absolutely lovely. I had even picked out what I was gonna be wearing on court that day, matching trainers, shorts and tee. Could I have been any more relaxed before my big game. That morning, I had a great breakfast and a shower and made it nice an early down to the courts. At midday there was already a buzz around the courts, with players and spectators milling around the clubhouse moving from court to court to see players.
I took myself away from the hullabaloo of the tennis centre and began my warmup, in the sun I got up a sweat pretty quickly. Before I knew it I was on court warming up as strangely relaxed for such a big game. I lost the toss and my opponent opted to serve. I was just getting myself set and the ball fizzed past my racquet before I knew it we were changing ends and I was in the hotseat fluffy dunlops in hand. I began my service game well, holding to 15. I was making absolutley no inroads on my opponents serve whatsoever, I was simply happy to get the thing back in the court, my serve on the other hand was a little less impenetrable but still doing the trick. At 3-4 on serve, my opponent like a veloceraptor going in for the kill mellon balled my first two serves, 0-30 3-4 down, yikes. Before I knew it I was 15-40 down facing two effective set points. I crumbled after my first serve hit the tape ( yet again) and gave in tamely but dumping the 2nd serve long of its target!
No matter how much I told myself, win the first service game of the 2nd set I seemed to do exactly the opposite. I crumbled like a Mc Vities rich tea biscuit in a warm cup of tea, 2-0 down before I had chance to register that I had lost the set let along being broken again. I managed to hold on to my next service game, through my own endeavour or my opponent letting me back in the game. But from there it was one way traffic expecting the inevitable. The defeat was bad but the manner was much much worse. Leaden footed, error prone and without ideas. Game, set and match. I plunked myself down on a chair beside a few guys from my club, I was speechless, dumbfounded. They didnt need to say anything either.
I eventually made my way back to the car and back home to my wife. As I plodded up the driveway, raquets in hand she could tell that I had lost . That evening I sat down having had a few hours to digest what had went on that afternoon previous at the club. I reached the following conclusion. In tennis it is so easy to get carried away and loose what is important; with new sneekers, fresh new strings and the latest Nike kit that our favourite player may be donning for the next slam event. All these take our minds off what we should be doing and that is practicing and gettting some game time on court. Nothing else matters, what matters is whether or not you have done the work. It is so blatantly obvious to observers, the truth hurts. And while I had been spending time picking out new tee’s for my racquet bag I had been negecting what the game of tennis is all about, getting the ball into the court. Now I am afraid, its me and the practice court for the next 6 weeks!
0 Responses to “Tournament Blues”