let the training begin

Speed in tennis is a strange mixture of intuition, guesswork, footwork and hair-trigger reflexes. Many of the players famed for quickness on court would finish dead last in a field of schoolgirls in a race over any distance more than ten yards.
- Eugene Scott

I had my first official tennis match in quite some time just this past Tuesday. It was absolutely awesome. I was giddy from the moment I woke up to well after I had put my racquet down.

The match was basically a trial run for me of the women's advanced singles league at Robbie Wagner's Tournament Training Center in Glen Cove, NY. On average, the skill level of the women in the league is 3.5 (NTRP playing level), give or take, and the ages vary as well.

Considering I haven't really played much since last summer, except for some rallying and practice serves with Alex last Saturday to give me a feel for my racquet again, I didn't have the highest of expectations. There were certain things I definitely knew and certain things I knew I was going to find out.

Going into the 9 AM match, I knew I would have the power, but I would probably play it tentative on shots. Just how tentative was yet to be determined. I knew I would have the speed to get to most everything, but I wasn't sure if I could deliver with a winning shot once I got there. I knew I would be able to get most of my serves in, but I wasn't sure how fast or well-placed I could make them. I knew I was going to do my best to keep my cool, but I wasn't sure how much my emotions would affect my game.

Pretty much, everything I knew would happen, happened. Versus my opponent, I was certainly the stronger, faster, and more athletic. I had speed and adrenaline on my side, so I did, indeed, get to just about every shot she hit. I had the power, so when I wasn't overthinking a shot, I hit a pretty solid, fast winner. My serves did get in, with maybe two, at most three, double faults the whole match. And I kept my cool and my mouth shut (mostly because I was smiling so much).

We played two sets. Now, rather than playing best of three sets, we play up until 10:30, when the next round of women's matches are scheduled. My opponent took the first set 6-2. Was I annoyed? Definitely. But there were some key things I was doing that it took me a set to remedy. For one, I kept rushing the net, with the hopes of intimidating her and winning an easy shot. Quite the opposite kept happening. I would hit a decent shot, basically served to her on a silver platter, and run up to net, only to be surprised when she would lob the ball over my head for an easy point. There were also more unforced errors than winners. Some of the rallies we had were just fantastic, but it was putting the point away that was proving evasive.

Okay, so lessons learned, it was time for the second set...which I won 6-3.

I quickly adjusted after the first set's performance, stopped unecessarily rushing the net, played my points from the baseline, took my time, and hit more calculating shots. There was still more I could've done, considering that there were a few points where I thought I had the set in the bag at 6-1. Next lesson...learning to better close out a match.

And then it was 10:30, and my first match was officially ended. Alex was there to watch the whole momentous event unfold, and that made me more than happy. Not only had I performed pretty decently, but I had done it in front of a very special audience. I later learned that we're not allowed to have spectators, lest they should be coaches of some sort. At the thought of Alex possibly being my coach, we both had to laugh. He's getting better at playing, and he's my most consistent playing partner, but he still hasn't reached the level of tennis coach-dom =P

After the match, and afterdeciding to joing the league for the rest of the season, we went for a celebratory Dunkin Donuts breakfast and returned to Robbie Wagner's just in time for my tennis lesson.

My new coach validated everything I thought about my playing - I have a lot of power and speed, but I'm still too hesitant on shots that I need to be hitting with more certainty. My comfort zone is at the baseline, as far from the net as possible.

I think I impressed him, which made me smile, but even more gratifying, I impressed myself.

It was a morning of tennis that I can only wait to do all over again next week.