Sometimes relationships aren't meant to stand the test of time and in tennis it's no different.
I've found myself having to polish off that eon-old speech that starts, "Well, it's not you. It's me..." Lately, a series of tennis habits have left me physically and mentally drained. Instead of looking forward to hitting sessions, I was beginning to dread them. Instead of looking forward to competing against a certain team or opponent, I felt apprehensive. Packing for a tournament, something I used to do days in advance, was done begrudgingly hours before departure time.
We've all had doubles partners were you just don't seem to click. Those are the partnerships easy to walk away from. Things never seemed like the good fit of a perfect pair of jeans, so it's easy to move on.
But there are other partnerships, associations, obligations, that make walking away difficult, where one of the people involved isn't as quick to realize that it is time to move on. Several of my tennis buddies have recently confessed to me, "I don't really like hitting with her/him, but I don't want to hurt their feelings." In theory, the honesty is the best policy, but who wants to hear; you cheat at line calls when it doesn't matter, so I don't want to hit with you. You're cool, but your mom is a psychopath and if she yells through the fence one more time from her bird-dogging position, I am going to purposely miss-hit a tennis ball right at her big mouth. Or, I would hit with you, but you coaching me when you just picked up a racquet three days ago isn't working for me. Or, if you can't say something sympathetic after a loss, then GO AWAY!
It's taken me a long time to realize that what I need out of a tennis relationship is just as important as what the other person needs. It should be symbiotic. There are people I love playing doubles with. Win or lose on the court, I leave feeling like I've had the time of my life. One of my favorite doubles partners, and I have many, is a teenager from Chicago. I strive to be like this thirteen-year old, who plays her ass off on the court yet is able to wipe the memories of a loss away with one swipe of a towel. At some point, her skills, already light years ahead of mine, will outgrow our partnership. I think we both realize that, but for now, it is fun, what it should be. We got routed our last match together, which was reminiscent of our first match together. The ones in between had become competitive and fun, so much so that I drove to Columbus to play a tourney with her where our first round opponents were far more accomplished than we were. But playing with her has been a blast.
On the flip side, there's a partner I've played with once. And it was a nightmare. I don't want to play with this partner ever again. I don't want to try to work it out. I don't want it to get better. I just don't want to play doubles with this partner. But instead of saying that, I've made excuses. (I'm focusing on singles. Playing singles and doubles with be too taxing on my delicate respiratory system. Playing doubles throws off my singles game.)
Tennis should be fun. If it's not fun, why do it? For all of it's costs and exerted energy and frustrating moments, if it's not fun, why do it?
For the rest of my 2010 season, my goal is to put the fun back in tennis. I'll let you guys know how it turns out.
Stay tuned,
KS
No comments:
Post a Comment