Love And Competition

“So warm and insightful you were in my eyes”

It’s been seven years since I played competitive tennis. Those days, for sure, were unlike any other. Looking back now at all the matches is one massive blur. At the time, I remember each match felt like the most important. Until the next one, that is.

So it is with relationships. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and all I can think of is the Patty Smith/Don Henley duet “Sometimes Love Just Ain’t Enough”. And I think…what a difference a year makes. Last year’s valentine was special to me. I made a complete fool of myself for him in more ways than one. At the time, it seemed the right thing to do, the most imperative way to be. If I had to do it again, I know I would do things differently. As Smith said in the song, “there’s a danger in loving someone too much”. How true she is.

See, the thing about competitive tennis and my former valentine are they both wore me out and broke me down. They both played with my emotions and sent my heart spinning. There is one important difference between the games we play with people and the games we play for sport. The difference lies in how we remember. If you play tennis long enough, day after day, the drudgery and routine of match play beings to overwhelm.  I don’t care who you are, it will get to you after a while. Chances are there is little to distinguish between matches, save for the three setters or the state competitions. You remember the first match of the season for its freshness, but two weeks later you can barely remember what team you faced.  

I wish I could say the same for human relationships. I wish I could treat each heartbreaker as a clipping from a tennis match, one that I fold up like a Valentine’s Day card and file in my scrapbook. I can’t do that. I especially can’t discard someone with whom I shared my most intimate thoughts and treat it like just another close defeat. Tennis players do often carry around tough defeats and it floods their mind and their heart with frustration. But I hardly think the effects are long-lasting. Perhaps because there is no reversal of the outcome, we tennis players eventually forget former heartbreaks. That philosophy doesn’t translate to life. “It’s sad when you know it’s your heart you can’t trust,” says Smith. What happens when you can no longer trust your own heart, when you can’t trust yourself with him? I’m still not sure, even as another Valentine’s Day rolls around, how I can begin trusting in love again.

“But for seven years you were loved”

Advantage: Nerd

What constitutes being a nerd?

A)    Having a 4.0 GPA

B)     Going to the library three days a week, even without the delicious task of completing a research paper

C)    Staying home on a Friday night to play Scrabble with your friends

D)    Swapping a TV show for the Pickwick Papers

E)     All of the above

Being a nerd has many advantages. Certainly in the classroom, nerds strive for straight A’s and always complete their homework assignments in a timely manner. The occasional nerd will sometimes go above and beyond the assignment and include portions of their own research when turning in homework. Nerds often have their noses in books. In my opinion, nerds are also knowledgeable on various subjects. They aren’t strictly “nerdy” about one specific area or topic. They indulge in everything and yearn to learn!

What does this have to do with tennis, you ask? Being a nerd has many advantages on the tennis court as well as off. Think about the best tennis players. Pete Sampras and Steffi Graf were students of the game. They didn’t get to the top or reach their tennis peak by neglecting their “studies”. Sampras learned to hit a one handed backhand because it would make him a more intelligent and efficient tennis player. He learned from the best coaches in the industry and maintained his focus throughout his career. Graf was a versatile player on clay, grass and hard court surfaces. She did her homework by spending hours before her matches warming up and stretching in preparation of her task.

Intelligence in a tennis player is too often overlooked. Tennis is a physical game. Perhaps more importantly and primarily, tennis is a mental game. The mind is involved strategically in reaching the next level for every player. Tennis nerds know all about the industry. They can tell you which racquet to buy if power is your goal, or if control is your desire. Tennis nerds know which racquets are head-light or head-heavy. They know the difference between a backhand topspin and a flat backhand. They can feel the difference. With intelligence comes a keen sense of intuition. Scholars are so familiar with their studies they can often dispute any argument to the contrary.

Intelligence alone does not make you a winner. Students who study the most do not always go home with the best report cards. Similarly, tennis players who know every move in the book or read Tennis Magazine religiously, are not always at the top of the ladder. One must have the mental capacity to apply their knowledge. Tennis players must possess the talent to apply their knowledge of the game during a match. Talent is the precursor. Intelligence adds to strengthen that talent. So, not ALL nerds have the advantage. But it would be a crying shame to not be a tennis nerd if you really loved the game.

I think a real nerd is someone who writes about being a nerd. Hmm…

“Baby you’re so smart, you know you could have been a schoolbook”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WCtVLo7VA-k

Depth

“We could have had it all rolling in the deep…think of me in the depths of your despair”

Depth is a purposeful action in tennis. It’s a place on the court you’re trying to reach in order to outmaneuver or outwit your opponent. Coaches often say, “lob deep” or “hit deeper shots to the baseline”. Depth, in this case, is positive. Deep drives are well-hidden. They’re meaningful. It takes concentration to master a deep lob when a menacing opponent is swaying their racquet at the net.  In tennis, it’s usually the deep shots that are the most challenging to both place and return.  

Life is abundant with examples of depth, having both positive and negative connotations.

Take a deep breath. How do you feel? Deep breaths allow us to buy time and relax when we’re stressed out or angry. Depth is fulfilling.

Are you in deep trouble? Depth is a challenge. A mistake. A change you endure.

Have you ever seen someone in deep thought? What does that look like? The person is usually centered on something very specific. Nothing else matters to them. That kind of depth is equivalent to concentration. Depth is reflective.

What does it mean to be deeply in love? Certainly, nobody has ever been shallowly in love with someone. Depth has meaning and intensity. It has layers. It develops.

Deep is sometimes an adjective used to describe a color. Deep purple or deep blue. These are profound, rich hues. They are not mild, but severe colors.

Depth has many meanings, depending on the context. There is one commonality: depth is a challenge. It’s more than scratching the surface. You can’t reach depth too easily. People don’t just get themselves in deep trouble overnight or fall deeply in love within minutes (despite what the movies have you believe). Depth is a level you achieve, usually by overcoming, enduring and sacrificing. I remember in high school it took me several months to perfect the deep lob. My paltry pats to midcourt were useful at times, but I watched in wonderment as my opponents would always at least lay a racquet on those lobs. I had a hard time adjusting my stroke to achieve depth. I needed to bend my knees more and angle my racquet instead of keeping the face flat against the ball. It took several weeks of practice and failing during matches. I sacrificed points in order to practice my adjusted lob stroke. When I finally learned to hit deeper, arching lobs, I noticed how few of my opponents could decently return them. I had achieved depth, a purposeful and meaningful action. Depth can be rewarding, especially when it occurs in the context of the tennis court.

Don’t hit too deep, however, or your shot will land out of bounds. Even depth has its limits.

“You had my heart inside your hand and you played it to the beat”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mBRUkdQa6Is

Of Importance

“It feels so good in a dream I know in life it’s just gotta be”

When I was nine, I used to sings songs by the Mickey Mouse Club band, The Party. I dreamed of some boy singing to me. It seemed of relative vast importance to have a boyfriend. After all, most of my girl friends were already talking about having them. We used to sit around at lunch and rank who we thought were the cutest boys in school. We could only get away with this nonsense because we were silly schoolgirls. Really we hadn’t the slightest clue what we were talking about or what was truly important.

What is most important in your life? Is it your family? Does fame rank as your top priority? Is faith central to your life? Perhaps it’s a combination of many facets. Our priorities shift during each stage of our lives, but I would guess there are a few “of importance” aspects that carry a heavier load than others. Reflecting on your priorities is not an exercise in futility. Rather, it’s a great way to understand the life around you.

In tennis, it’s easy to say everybody weighs different aspects of their game on different scales of importance. Some players swear by their serve or impeccable footwork; others rely most on their stellar forehand down-the-lines or attacking serve and volley style. Many players think it’s their speed and quickness to net that crushes opponents. These concrete examples are all tennis necessities. More abstractly, what characteristics of the game matter the most? What characteristics of your personality matter most in life?

Tennis players win by being accurate. Winners place their shots where their opponents cannot successfully make returns. Accuracy ranks, but is it of most importance? What about consistency? It’s important in tennis not to yield to your opponent’s weakness. If you are a consistently hard hitter who faces a loopy lobber, do you remain consistent? Do you flake out and play to your opponent’s style? Consistency is the key to tennis in my opinion. You can be the swiftest player on the court or have the best backhand stroke. Your accuracy may be so top-notch it defies logic. Even so, the best tennis players, the players who win the most, are consistent. That’s not to say those same players are predictable. They are anything but predictable because they are so consistent. What a fascinating paradox.

In life, I argue sensibility is of importance. Sensible people make good decisions, remain calm under pressure and often generate positive results that benefit others. Sensibility is the accuracy of tennis. It’s not as important as consistency. Consistent personalities succeed. If you’re lucky enough to have this vital quality, you probably know what you want in life. You do what you have to do to get there. In other words, you’re goal-oriented and well-adjusted. Just as in tennis the player who is most consistent prevails, consistent people always know their part. So whether you rank family, fame or faith as your chief concern, make a consistent effort to reflect on what is most important. Then ask yourself why. Why does it matter? A consistent tennis player would ask questions.

Maybe schoolgirl crushes have meaning after all. You have to start somewhere…

“I’m trying to say I wanna be your number one”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H1PaOziQrzc

Hard Work

“You said that I was naïve and I thought that I was strong”

Newsflash: tennis is hard on the body. Is it true you can’t play all out at the age of 28 the way you did when you were 18?  I’m not talking about rallying a few balls around as part of the senior circuit. I’m mean tennis at breakneck pace. Endurance and tolerance may decline with age, but skills and strategic tactics don’t. I beg to differ with the naysayers who scoff at the abilities of 30-50 year old tennis players. I’ve seen some pretty swift serve and volley players on the adult USTA teams. Those middle-aged wise guys are sometimes just as fleet of foot as their twenty something counterparts.

If tennis is more of a mindset than a game of speed and physical strength, shouldn’t we all be able to play adeptly well into our 50’s? Perhaps I am being naïve. But walk into any country club and witness the clientele of the average tennis member. Most of them aren’t spring chickens anymore, but they can still knock a mean forehand down the line and chase down overhead lobs. It’s funny how we acknowledge the skill sets of advanced and experienced players, or coworkers for that matter. Yet, we hesitate to entrust those same people as doubles players or colleagues in sharing work duties. I like to see the older generation rise to the occasion. I’d like to think I’ll be one of those 50 something folk one day, sharply snapping my racquet at the net and sending crosscourt shots to the deepest corners of the baseline.  If you watch older players maneuver around the court, you will notice something strikingly similar about the way beginners play. They take their time with each shot. They focus so hard on getting their feet planted, their racquet back and their follow through just right.  Just like a beginner.

The more experienced players seem to know what is expected. They don’t shoot for the moon, but they perfect their imperfections. They know their limits. It’s just like that in any workplace too. Older workers are inflicted and dazzled with new communication, gadgets and technology. As a management student, I tend to do a lot of thinking about how personnel impact the workplace. Managing the baby boomer generation is an intriguing topic of discussion. It’s worth noting because the workplace is changing, and everyone has to adapt. Some generations are going to adjust better to technological and economical changes. Similarly, the evolution of the tennis racquet has changed the game drastically at every skill level. Yesterday’s players didn’t possess the power of today’s heavy hitters. It must be difficult for that generation to come close to being on a level playing field with today’s players. Or perhaps, it depends on the player.

I don’t think it’s accurate to state my generation is better than the one of my parents’.  I have every reason to believe yesterday’s players were just as good, if not more skilled, than the tennis stars of today. Perhaps you could even say the same thing for my generation of workers. We’ve been criticized as lazy, and rightly so. We have it easy today but that should not be an excuse to not work hard.

“You say I only hear what I want to”

Moving On

“Nothing’s going to hurt as much as that final touch”

Never has a year challenged my mind to change and my heart to move on more than this past one. As I turn the page on this year and look ahead to 2012, here are some reflections from the roller coaster ride that was 2011.

Good things happen to those who wait. This is true of life and tennis. Sometimes you have to wait for the right shot to win a point. Games aren’t won or lost with immediacy. The drudgery of six games equals one set. That is, IF you win by two games.  One set does not make a match either. You must win at least two sets to defeat your opponent in tennis. Several fortunate opportunities presented themselves in my work life this year. Grateful as I am for these new roles, they would not have occurred if I had not put in my time and been a patient person. Rewards earned the hard way, they say, are often the most precious.

A beautiful thing happened this year. I met some really great people who have continued to support and surprise me with kindness. College has opened me up intellectually to a diverse range of subjects and people from all walks of life. I’ve been able to get to know and work with many different people, although temporarily. Those people have touched me throughout the year and it’s been bittersweet moving on from those experiences. It reminds me of playing college doubles against my teammates in practice. We rooted for each other, even as we played on opposite sides of the court. It was a team effort and bonding. The stakes weren’t too high but fun reigned supreme. Playing with and against my teammates has prepared me for life’s many enjoyable moments. 

Defeat on the tennis court has also prepared me invaluably for life’s disappointments. I said goodbye this November to my 16 year old cat. A month later, I hugged my sister goodbye as she bid farewell to New York for Texas. Life changes are never easy. Moving on is a battle of emotions and struggle of the heart. My cat is in a better place, but letting her go was a most unsettling experience. To never see her face again or hear her cries at my feet are hard thoughts to get my head around. My sister, and best friend, is a time zone away now. We communicate through mail, email and phone. I drive by her old apartment or pass her favorite store and memories come flooding back like a hurricane returning from the shore. Change is necessary, however. If you keep pedaling back to the ball, you’ll never gain ground at the net. You’ll never get the chance to put the ball away and reach full potential.

Love is not so simple where we can dismiss it yet not so complex where we cannot earn it. As I prepared to write this blog, I toiled with yet another ‘moving on’ moment. One of the hardest things in life is walking away from someone you deeply love after you’ve given your very best. I fell too fast for someone--someone who had my heart spinning from the first moment we met. He tore my heart in half instead of grabbing hold of it. In tennis if you get ahead too fast, you sometimes lose sight of the entire match. You’re drained by the second set because you’ve expended too much energy winning those first games. It was the same way for me. I am zapped of energy to hang on any longer to the one I could have forever loved. And so as I move on, I am learning to love again. Love has to be earned. It has to be saved for those who deserve our energy. I don’t like letting go and goodbyes are always going to be grueling. Tennis has taught me how to handle those moments I would rather not face. Moving on is part of the game. It’s part of life, no matter how hard we try to fight it or avoid it.

“The door is closing and I just can’t change it”

Faces of Disbelief

“I can be your hero baby”

I had never been to a funeral before September 11, 2001. I imagined funeral services were similar to the candlelight vigils I attended on the evening of the most horrific terrorist attack in our nation’s history. The crowds gathered in the fellowship hall and grassy hills on the outskirts of campus told a story none of us would ever forget. The faces of disbelief, the somber tears and the mournful eyes of so many people were akin to a funeral service.

At eight o’clock in the morning on September 11, I strolled into my first class of the day at Fredonia State University. The first two weeks of freshman year had been fantastic.  One and a half hours later, I walked out of English Composition to a changed world. I left behind the innocence and safety of a pre-911 existence. Students on the sidewalk were sobbing into each other’s shoulders. Strangers were quieter than usual. I looked to my side, where my freshman friend, Megan, was just as puzzled as me. After passing several people on the way back to my dorm room in Nixon Hall, I began to have a sick feeling in my stomach. Something had happened, but I wasn’t sure what. An Asian student stopped me on the way into my dorm and told me what had happened in New York City and the Pentagon. I didn’t realize the immensity of the situation until I clicked on the tiny television in my room. My roommate was still sleeping, so I kept the volume low. It wasn’t long before my roommate was awake and the entire floor was tuning into the events as they unfolded.

I immediately emailed my mother at home to ask about my father. My father worked in Manhattan, blocks away from the twin towers. Thoughts shifted to his safety as I began to worry about more attacks. The college announced the cancellation of classes for the remainder of the day. Everyone was excited at first, but the mood on campus was soon altered. The impact was just being felt. September 11^th brought people together. I didn’t get along with my roommate, but on that day, I did. I attended two vigils and met up with my tennis teammates and coach to pray. My tennis family was the closest thing I had to a family in college. We all stuck together. My dad didn’t get home until late that Tuesday evening. He had to take a ferry during the mass exodus out of the city.  September 11^th was like a funeral service for me. The faces of disbelief and sadness are hard to forget. I will never forget English Composition or walking to my room that September morning. Even after ten years, the images are as recent as if they just happened.

“Hold me in your arms tonight”