corners, corners, corners

I think the tour should come up with something where they don't let players over 6' 6" play.
- Tommy Haas

My feet hurt. My arms hurt. My head hurts. Everything hurts.

Four hours of tennis in one day isn't exactly a trip to the gym, so I guess I should've expected as much.

The morning started with a match against a decent player who barely edged me out. It was clear I had frustrated her and upset the rhythm of her game. But I should've won. She was decent, not particularly very good, although better than some of the other players I've faced this season. Yet I wasn't horribly disappointed with the results. Part of the reason I haven't been excelling in league play over the past few months is because the game I play in a match stands in stark contrast to the one I play with my coach. I get tentative on shots. My thoughts cloud my actions. I overhit and underhit without really thinking about each point. I play to the level of my opponent, which results in me pushing the ball over the net, and her doing the same, until one of us commits an unforced error.

But this time was different. I felt I was hitting the ball with the power and relaxed strokes I was working on in my lessons. I wasn't shortchanging myself just to win a game. Sure, pushing the ball might win me a few games against a not-so-good player, but what good will that do me when I play someone better?

After the match, then came the two-hour lesson. Another one of my coach's players and me have joined our lessons so that we get to hit against each other. We both seem to suffer from the same tentative-shot-itis that's keeping our game from improving. The extended lesson was awesome. We saw what we were each doing, where our strengths were, and where our weaknesses were holding us back.

My big lesson for the day? Corners. Anywhere but the middle of the court. I have a penchant for playing it safe, just getting to the next point, even if that means sacrificing power and racquet speed. So in our match during the second hour, it was becoming painfully obvious. We were both stuck in the center of the court, where any beginner could easily get to the ball. There was no risk, no threat, no winning shot.

Corners, corners, corners. When I started to hit the ball there, I saw the results. The shots were harder to get to, harder to return. I was hitting winners. But for every corner I hit, I missed three. It felt like I was wailing away precious points.

And it'll probably continue to feel that way, until I get more comfortable with it, until I've done it over and over again. It's a matter of telling myself that it's okay to lose a few games now, only to know that I'll win games later against better players because of what I trained for now.

Ugh, it's just that I hate losing. The center of the court gives me one more chance to win the point. Gunning for the corners of the court involves a certain confidence that the better players have. It requires thought, precision, experience, guts.

Corners, corners, corners.

In a month, maybe two, we'll assess and see how I feel about the whole thing.