Taking Weekend Tennis Seriously

So I lost on Saturday, May 19, 2012.  I’m only now writing about this because I was so bummed. The girl was very good.  It was like playing against a better version of myself (if I do say so myself.  Man, do I brag a lot.) – she was young, had major topspin on her balls – much more than mine – and went for the kill shot any chance she got.

This is too awesome.

Memo to self – I need to do a post on the lack of the killer instinct for many weekend women players.  To me, it’s like the one major difference that sets apart the levels.  I also want to do a post on playing against young people.  Two words: Ruh-roh.

After being stunned in the first few games – I was not expecting someone this tough.  In fact, I had done “research” and I thought/was hoping I would be playing against someone else who seemed an easier opponent – I somehow pulled myself together to come back from being down 3-1 to up 5-4…a lead I promptly lost, of course.

Tangent (well this is a first.  No, not the having a tangent part, but announcing that this is a tangent.  This is very exciting for me as a writer): I wish there was something that could tell me when the game is over or the set is over or even that the whole match is over.  What I mean is, I just want to concentrate on playing.  I don’t want to know what the score is or need to know what the score is.  I’ll play and then something – this…this thing – will tell me, the game’s over. Go get a drink.  Because, I find that when I’m up 30-0, I’ll immediately lose it back.  It’s a serious mental issue.  Now you might say, just let your opponent keep track of the score for you.  To which I say, “Child, please.”  CHILD, PLEASE.

So I lose the first set 7-5.  Then my opponent goes mental – it’s the only explanation I have – and loses the second set 6-1.  I think I had very little to do with winning the set; she just kept double-faulting or hitting shots into the net.  But whatever, I split!

Here’s where I made my absolute costly, stupid, no-good, horrendous mistake.  I went to the restroom.

Do not go, people.  Do not go to the restroom if you have the momentum.  Do not go if you just won the last set.  Do not go if your opponent is her own worst enemy.  Do not, for the love of the ghosts of Scrooge and Casper…no, wait, I don’t think that’s right…, go to the restroom.

A 3rd set for a USTA match is a 10 point Coman tiebreaker.  So it’s not like we were going to be out there for long.  I didn’t really need to go.  I went because I thought to myself that if I didn’t go, I would blame myself for not going if I lost the tiebreaker.  I went because I thought that’s what I was supposed to do.  I missed the lesson that says you don’t take your time when you’re f-ing winning.

Even though I would have blamed myself for losing had I not gone to the restroom, it probably wouldn’t have been with such venom.  I lost the tiebreaker 10-1.

10-1.

That is flat-out embarrassing.  That is sad.  That is my opponent re-grouping herself, pulling her head out of her butt, and remembering that she was by far the better player on the court and playing like it.  She came out on fire and I forgot what I did to have made the first two sets so close.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I’m not upset that I lost to a better player.  I’m upset at myself for giving the match away so easily.  I could have had her that day.  That’s all that matters.  It doesn’t matter that she can beat me 9 times out of 10.  It just matters that I could have won when it actually counted for something.  Because, you know, USTA – it matters.

So the lesson here is to not ever go to the restroom if you are winning.  Do not stop your momentum.  Keep the pedal to the metal.  More cliches I can’t think of!

These are serious life lessons, people.  Has your ridiculously expensive tennis teaching pro told you this very important strategy in one of your lessons?

You’re welcome.