Blog #21: IT ALL COMES DOWN TO HEAD AND HEART

At the conclusion of my second ever adult tennis tournament, the Beverly Hills 5.5 division, I had one major belief of mine about tennis and all of sports confirmed: IT ALL COMES DOWN TO HEAD AND HEART. Borris Becker used to say the fifth set has very little to do with tennis, and now I fully know what he meant. What it has to do with is who battles more, who wants it more, who maintains composure, and who is willing to believe and go for it when it matters most.

I knew going in to Saturday morning that I would need to win three matches in about 24 hours if I were to come away with the trophy. I was scheduled to play the quarters Saturday morning, the semi’s Saturday night, and the finals Sunday morning if I made it. Having watched several of my prospective opponents, I was struck by how equal we all were. None of us was good enough to blow the other off the court. The matches would be close, and they would come down to a point here or there.

It would all come down to who competed best.

Very similar to the top level of the pros (at a SLIGHTLY different level, however).

My quarterfinal match on Saturday morning turned in to everything I did not want it to be: an absolute marathon and war. In the third set alone, I had to call the umpire three times because of my opponent’s line calls. It tested every ounce of my physical and emotional reserves. Once I saw him begin to cramp at 3-3 in the third, though, I knew it was mine for the taking. At that moment I fully got how tennis is a one-on-one battle, and so much of it comes down to who is willing to pay the bigger price.

After prevailing in an epic 6-4 in the third battle, I went home and got horizontal and got has many fluids and foods in my body as possible. When I showed up for my semi final match that night, every muscle in my body was on the brink of cramping. I came armed with tons of Gatorade and ridiculous amounts of bananas. Every changeover I was chugging fluids and downing bananas.

When I found out that instead of playing a three hour morning match, my opponent had a walkover, I thought I stood zero chance.
After winning the first, I got down early in the second and decided if I were to have any chance at all in the decider, I basically had to tank the rest of the second set. I lost it 6-1, but had a tough time re-starting and quickly found myself down 4-0 in the third.

It was at that moment that I made the conscious decision that I refused to go down easy. It would have been so easy, quick, and painless to lose two more games, but thinking of what Rafa would do, I battled back and won 6-4 in the third!

I am still not sure it was worth the pain.


That night I could barely sleep from over-exhaustion. I was sure I would have absolutely nothing left for the finals. I especially felt this way when I agreed to do my opponent a favor and play the match at 7 a.m. since he had to be at work.

When I got myself out of bed at 5 am. And it was still dark, I deeply questioned whether any of this was worth it.

But, I finally decided I had not come this far to go away easy. Thank GOD, I won the finals in straight sets 6-3, 6-3. Thank GOD it was a short, and relatively painless match. But at 3-3 in the second when I faced 5 break points and had to battle out a 10 minute service game, I did have to dig deep. I did have to compete. I needed to use MY HEAD and HEART. I broke his will.

For there was very little difference in tennis ability between any of us in the draw.

As Becker said, the difference did not come down to tennis.

I find this to be true beyond the tennis court. What makes Cliff Lee so incredible in the playoffs? When he goes in to Yankee stadium and blanks them, it is because he BELIEVES he will and THRIVES off pressure. What makes Kobe or Lebron who they are? It is not merely God-given talent. It how hard they work and compete. It is their heads and hearts.

I would venture to say that is also probably true of amazing CEO's or fathers, or mothers or teachers or doctors. It always comes down to doing OUR very best. Pushing ourselves to the limit, whether we we or not. As long as we compete OUR best and use our head and hearts, we can be proud.

I bet it is true in almost EVERY area of our lives.

Blog # 20: What Would Rafa Do?

As I played in my second ever adult tournament last weekend in Beverly Hills, I needed to utilize every possible physical and mental resource (even ones I didn’t know I had) to get through the match. I was playing in the 5.5 division (one below the open level), and in my first round match I unfortunately ran into a 6 foot 3 Lithuanian who played college tennis at LMU. What a draw!

No time to ease into this tournament.

Luckily he was playing his first tournament in a while and came out rustier than the Tin Man. I won the first set 6-4 and thought I was well on my way to a straight sets W. Unfortunately, my opponent got much of the rust off, and as soon as the second set began, I knew I was in for a war. He took the second set 6-3, and we were set to go the distance.
Up until this time, it was a friendly match with great calls (I even think he gave me some pretty generous calls), but things quickly began to heat up in the deciding set. He hit a few balls early in the set that just missed, and when I called them out, he started to give second glances. Then, midway through the set, when I was serving at 2-2 40-15, I hit a first serve that he swung at, broke his string, and missed in the net. The serve was either on the back line or perhaps slightly long, but he played it, so I started walking to change sides.

As he was walking to get a new racket, he surprised me when he said, “oh, your serve was long.” I was shocked. I told him even if it were, it does not matter because he played it. This clearly angered him. The next game, when he hit a few balls way out, and I did not bother to say “out” he said, you didn’t make a call (even though they were well out and I was not making a play on the ball). Also, every time I missed he shouted “out!”

This started to make me mad. He would not let it go.

Then, came the big moment. It was 4-4 deuce and I was serving. It was the point of the match; he was running me ragged and I was retrieving like a mad man. I hit a short ball and he pounds his approach to my forehand. I run over, and with my last ounce of energy, hit a passing shot that he dives for and gets by him. I give a huge c’mon! because the ball landed well inside the line. But then I hear “out!”

First of all, I know that there is no way he could have seen where it landed because he was too busy face planting, and secondly, I knew it was a good couple FEET in. I try not to, but I start to go ballistic. I threaten to get an umpire unless he will change his call, and since he won’t, I go get an umpire. I later realized this may have been a mistake, because there is no way she can over-turn the call (and there is also no way I can get REVENGE and call his next two shots out to get to ad-in where we should be!!!). I have to play it as ad-out and I am so distraught that I lose the next point to get broken and go down 4-5.

I walked to the bench at the changeover fuming and ready to quit. I was going to hit four balls over the fence at walk off in a fury without shaking his hand. I had had it. But then a simple thought came to me:

WHAT WOULD RAFA DO?

He would not quit. He would not let a bad call get the better of him. He would be resilient and break back. Instead of WHAT WOULD JESUS DO, I had to reframe the question to: what would my sports idol do? What would the greatest competitor in the world do?

I broke back, and ended up winning 12-10 in the breaker after saving four match points.

THAT is what Rafa would have done.

AD OUT….