Can I Be Your Steve Campbell?

I started playing tennis in college. My first three collegiate matches were in one weekend at the conference championships one week after I first picked up a racquet.

I loved tennis!

And I knew it was a fluke that I ever made the team, but I wanted to play the following year.

I went to school to the University of Detroit Mercy and that summer, I spent every morning playing in junior clinics at Metropolitan Racquet Club, a clay court club in the city, and every afternoon and evening playing at Palmer Park. I would bike about a mile and half west to the clay courts in the morning and I would bike a mile and a half east to the city park to play in the afternoons.

When people arrived early, I would offer to warm up with them. When I saw people practicing their serves, I would ask to return. When I saw someone tiring of their doubles games, I would offer to jump in and give them a breather. If there was no one to hit against, well, there was always the wall. And in those days, the wall won OFTEN!

But my best memory is one day at the junior clinic I got to hit against a guy who was really, really good. Back in those days, I had a lot of power and zero control and I nailed him square in the gut when he approached the net. (I didn't always believe in passing shots. When I was younger, I was either going over you or going through you!) I apologized immediately and as he got to his feet, he said, "No, that was great. Don't apologize!"  was the first time that I saw the possibility of what I could do as a tennis player. Three days later, I found out I had been hitting with Steve Campbell, a former touring tennis pro from the Detroit area.

I look back to my tennis beginnings and it gives me a good feeling. And I've played a lot of tennis since that freshmen year. I've played three more years of college, years of leagues and tournaments. I've officiate countless junior matches and college matches. I've taught a few clinics and given a few private lessons. And although I always have a good time on the court, nothing quite felt the same as those long hours in the park.

Until I started coaching at Denby High school.

Originally I wanted to just run some clinics at the school during the summer. Denby goes to school year round and some of the girls kept telling me they wanted to learn how to play. So, I went to one of the assistant principals and asked if I could run a clinic once the spring sports ended. And she asked if I could coach the boys' team in the fall.

I did not expect to have any boys for my program. Knowing, I was going to have newbies, I knew I would have to find some athletes and convert them to tennis players. I played basketball going into college and I knew how my athleticism helped a lot during those first few years when I didn't have a clue. But since football is also in the fall, I really didn't expect to have many boys; maybe some freshman, maybe a kid who'd never played a sport before but wanted to give one a try.

I ended up with eleven boys on the team. We practiced every day after school. We practiced on Saturdays. They begged me to come up on Sundays. Two hour practices stretched into three hour practices. Cloudy days were spent playing at a quick pace to beat the rain. Breaks were taken only when it was too wet to play, but even then we hit volleys in the school's hallways while waiting for the rain to go away.

And it was bigger than the team. Teachers joined us on the court. My proudest day was when I heard one of my captains explaining to the ROTC teacher where to stand and what to do so that an impromptu game of doubles could occur. Security guards stopped me in the hall to ask about the team since they'd seen my players carrying their mascot-stenciled racquets around the school.

The football coach asked about my program daily. Every day I had more and more kids on the court, kids who played other sports and couldn't join the team officially, but wanted to be a part of whatever was going on at the courts.

Selfishly, coaching there has done more for me than almost any other tennis experience. And it was contagious.

I knew going in, this was not going to be the "easy" job and that I would need help. I cannot begin to thank the long list of people and organizations that donated everything we needed. We got so many racquets from my friend, Amy. We got balls and racquets from Franklin Racquet Club, my friend, Bertie, and several tournament directors in the area. We got help from my soccer buddy, Beth, which helped travel and food to scrimmages. We got an awesome ball cart from my friend, Robyn. My hockey buddy, Carolyn, donated a ball hopper and enough new balls to get me through not only the boys' season, but probably the girls as well. The GP South JV tennis team spent an afternoon humbly showing my players how good they could become. My mom and her office were our official "parents". They provided food and snacks for away matches when needed. One of the Wayne State tennis moms who collected tennis bags and racquets for our program. So many volunteers who donated their time, knowing that a team full of newbies needed more than a single coach trying to run around and show everyone, everything. All the teachers at the school who played tennis before who came out to the courts to provide my players with different looks.

 

I couldn't have had the season we had without all of them.

My biggest concern were some of the things I knew I would have to deal with that were out of my control like the fact that I don't operate very well without organization. Although, I like to think of myself as someone capable of using both sides of her brain with equal ease, I AM SO LEFT-BRAINED when it comes to what I expect from those around me. And I stressed about how much disorganization I would be able to handle. I think I dealt with (or ignored) more than I ever thought I could. But everyday, I would think about what I was doing and how excited and enthusiastic it made everyone around me, the things that caused aneurysms in the left side of my brain, didn't seem all that life threatening. (Although seriously, it would help my brain if others made organization a priority.)

At the end of the season, I couldn't help but remember that day on the clay with Steve Campbell. For so long, I wanted to be that person for a player coming up. I wanted young girls to look at me in my lacey tennis dresses with my black crew socks and see that they could be tough and intense on the court. I wanted city kids to realize that my path to tennis was something they could replicate. I wanted them to look at me and see the possibilities that existed within themselves. I wanted to be their Steve Campbell.

Expect more news about my program in the future.

Stay tuned,
KS.

I'm Different, Yeah, I'm Different.

Okay, so the kids are beginning to rub off on me. One too many high school days in an urban school district and I am regularly "irritated" or find things "irritatin'," or run into people who "be irritatin' me." I'm rolling my eyes more. And the lyrics to an infinite number of songs too inappropriate to rap/sing around my mother are constantly playing in my head. The 'Most Frequently Played' song on my ipod went from being Miranda Lambert's Gunpowder and Lead to Two Chainz' Birthday Song. (I know. My sister has already planned an intervention.)

But as many bad habits as I am picking up, I like to think that I am picking up a few good ones, too. A few years ago, a friend of mine told me that I needed to walk around the court like I had swag. And although I've done okay in terms of posing like I have swag, there's always a little doubt in my head. Everyday when I am around these kids, I am amazed at their confidence. Feigned or otherwise. They have a chip on their shoulder and they are determined to prove anyone who doubts their swag wrong.

That's the swag I want to have.

I had a conversation with a pretty intelligent twelfth grader after a match against an opponent who has always acted like I didn't belong on the court with her. All I did was beat her. She accused me of cheating. She threw a two-year-old-sized tantrum on the court. And she badmouths my game any chance she gets. That alone wouldn't bother me... If she treated all of her opponents that way. But she doesn't.

It's just me.

I'm different. Yeah, I'm different. (Middle finger up to my competition)

In a mxd doubles match where I was hitting frame-shot, mis-hit winners and aces all night, a serve got away from me and hit her in the foot. She proceeded to throw a big fit about it. And when another serve got away from me a few games later, she came unglued. But two games later, when my tennis partner mis-hit a serve that just missed her head, she laughed. And joked with him.

Okay.

It doesn't bother me, until it does. Like being highlighted at a hockey league board meeting simply for scoring goals. Forget the fact that the forty team league with six different divisions must have more than merely me scoring goals. Somehow I am drawing attention.

My point is there is always big talk from the USTA about inclusion and diversity. But the sport breeds exclusion.

Take for an example the instance of Taylor Townsend being denied funding for the 2012 US Open because of her "weight" problem. The then #1 junior in the world made it to New York on her mother's dime until stars like Lindsey Davenport herself, the opposite of the twiggy stick players we are used to seeing, spoke out against the USTA's decision to exclude her because of her weight.

Only in the field of women's sports would we dog a player who weighs more than your average player, even though she was the NUMBER ONE JUNIOR IN THE WORLD! And if her weight is a serious issue, sidelining her from competing is counter-active isn't it? Wouldn't a better solution be to tell her to play twice as many tournaments in the hopes that all that tennis might help her shed some pounds?

I play a lot of sports and even though I've faced the typical pettiness that comes from being an African-American in typically Caucasian-dominated sports and there's not a sport that I've yet learned to "play like a dainty lady", tennis has the most attitude. Most other sports will appreciate your game as long as you play hard and work hard.

Not tennis.

I walked out of a hockey locker room one day only to have to go back because I'd forgotten my stick. As I opened the door, I heard a girl say, "Oh my God, did you see her legs? No wonder she's fast." Okay, that was not the first time I've heard comments about my legs. But that was the first time, it was so clearly a compliment.

How is it possible that we can praise Tsonga for being the athletic beast that he is, but we are going to scoff at Townsend? What if the basketball world focused only on Shaq's weight when he was tearing down rims instead of being impressed by the athleticism of someone that big?

If you ever want to see the best footwork on a tennis court, you have to check out Kathleen Hawkins from Western Michigan University. The 5-11 junior is built like a girl Shaq. I have never in my life seen someone so explosive out of every single split step she takes before every single shot! She is my new favorite player. There is so much power in every single shot. But if I was looking at her through the single-sighted glasses that tennis tries to impose on us, all I would see is...

She's different. Yeah, she's different.

Stay tuned,
KS