At 30-40, my mind raced. I planned out exactly what I wanted to do depending on where I thought he might serve. He had been serving and volleying the whole match, so I assumed he would come in even at such a tight moment. I decided if he served to my backhand, I would hit my slice crosscourt doubles return, forcing him to volley a low backhand. I assumed that he would hit his first volley down the line, the highest percentage shot, allowing me to hit one of my favorite shots—my running crosscourt pass.
I bounced on my toes and leaned forward, ready to pounce. Just as I had expected, Arthur sliced his serve to my backhand. I hit my return perfectly, low and tight over the net to his backhand, just as planned. He approached the net and hit a low, backhand volley down the line—again, just as expected.I had to hurry, but I knew I had a play on the ball. I zeroed in on it as I ran across the grass and lined up what I hoped would be my winning passing shot. I was hitting my favorite shot, and felt relaxed and confident.
Swooooosh!
I couldn’t believe it—I had completely missed the ball! The combination of the grass and underspin Arthur had put on the ball caused the ball to skid under my racquet and never come up. I couldn’t let the bad luck get me down. I needed to compose myself for the next point.
Unfortunately, Arthur held serve, and at 9-9 the match was suspended because of darkness. The next day we resumed play and both held serve a few more times. He eventually won the set 13-11.
Twenty years later I was reading Arthur’s autobiography and was amazed to read that he considered his low backhand volley to be one of his best shots. Here I thought I had the best plan for that point, and instead I played right into his strength.
Arthur went on to win three majors…the U.S. Open, Australian Open, and Wimbledon, and become one of the most celebrated athletes of any generation because of his humanitarian work. Although I competed well the next two years, reaching the round of 32 at the U.S. Nationals at Forest Hills and winning one singles event, I never had enough big weapons to become aTop 10 player in the world. But what allowed me to compete against worldclass competition was my ability to play smart tennis at crucial moments and coach myself through matches.
After I stopped competing, I turned my attention to teaching the game, passing along those self-coaching techniques to help other players identify and correct their errors. During more than 35 years as a high-school coach, a Division I men’s and women’s college coach, and directing tennis academies at several clubs including the Windward Lake Club, in Alpharetta, Ga., I havebeen fortunate to work with players who won five national championships, two who went on to reach the world Top 50, and countless other nationally ranked players.
Over the years, grips and strokes have evolved—but the mental side of the game has not really changed. Players spend countless hours honing proper stroke technique and footwork, but to reach the top levels of the game they must develop a good mental foundation. I wrote this book to help competitive players of all ages learn more about the mental side of tennis, to aid high school coaches and teaching professionals, as well as parents preparing junior players for the intricacies of the mental game.
The mental side of tennis is one of the more difficult aspects of the game to understand, but it is my hope that the tips and tools this book provides will help make that part of the game easier to master. I suggest you read it in small doses, as there is a lot to grasp. Take one chapter at a time and work on the strategies and tactics during your practice matches until they become natural.
Then think of the book as a reference tool that you should refer to continually during your career. With this approach, you will gradually improve your mental game until you master all the concepts and become a smarter player.