A Day Of Grueling Combat And A Rain Cancellation

Sets 91-93 (of 365):

Stuart vs. Q. at Northwest Park. Winner: Stuart 7-6(8), 6-7(3), 6-4.
Ladder Match #8

Sets 94-96 (of 365):

Stuart vs. J. at Northwest Park. Winner: Stuart 6-7(5), 6-2, 6-1.

Barely alive. More later.

Stuart vs. S. at Northwest Park--postponed because of rain.

My Mojo: Error-Prone, Easily Frustrated, But Dug In For Tough Combat

I ended up playing two out of three matches that I had scheduled today. The first two were marked by similar attitudes on my part. I made a lot of errors and could not get it together throughout most of each of these matches until the very end, when I was able to pull out wins. I would get ahead, and then my opponents would catch up, and that was frustrating me greatly. The rallies were, for the most part, very long in both sets with lots of going back and forth from deuce to ad. Both matches ended up going three sets and had tiebreaks. I was easily irritable, and though I don't usually scream or throw my racquet, I was definitely doing feeling a lot of anger inside at times--almost enough to throw a racquet. I muttered several epithets under my breath or to myself at times and even screamed out a cuss word at the top of my lungs once, which is WAY out of character for me.

In the first match against Q., I felt like I was often outplaying him, and when I could get together enough focus, I could win games easily. But I could not keep the focus at all and I kept making error after error. And then he would come back and outplay me. Everything was really close all the way through the match. We were neck-and-neck in each of the three sets. And, to top it off, early on in the first set (I think it was in the third game), I had to change direction quickly to get one of his shots, and I felt my calf muscle pull. It was right near the end of the game, and I couldn't tell how bad it was at this point. At first I thought it might be bad enough that I would have to forfeit. On the next changeover, I stretched my calf a lot and decided to keep playing. Though it seemed bad for the next couple of games, it seemed to work itself out to where I regained mobility after a game or two. Whew. I have pulled or torn calf muscles before to the point that I was on crutches for weeks before, and I was glad that it was not that bad. But it did mean that I had to be careful not to aggravate it, and it also appeared that some other muscles in both of my legs were taking over some of the slack, so other muscles in my legs were rapidly getting sore as well.

We got to TWO tiebreaks in the first two sets. This was really hard-fought, and it seemed like we were mostly alternating wins in both sets. In the first set, I won the tiebreak, but we took it to 10-8.

In the second set, I had been ahead 4-0. Then, in the fifth game of the second set, J., who was playing on the next court from me, asked me, "Are you wearing him down, Stuart?" I answered, "Either that, or he's wearing me down." My attempt at self-deprecating humor seemed to jinx me. I was completely scattered after that, and he won the next five games. Then I won a game to bring it to 5-5, and we each won a game after that to end up in a tiebreak with the score at 6-6. I could not get it together in the tiebreak and lost 7-3.

I was not looking forward to a third set. I was extremely tired, irritable, and my legs felt like raw hamburger from the knees down. The third set was as tough as the first two. Luckily, after we got to 4-4, I was able to pull it out. I won the next game fairly easily, and though the game after that was much tougher, I pulled it out with two points in a row over deuce.

I could barely walk back to my car. I knew I only had a little time before my next match, and I would have to spend every minute in active recovery. I raced home and took a hot bath and then spent just about every minute left icing and stretching. My legs were really stiff and I could barely get up to tape up my calf muscle and leave for the next match.

I got to the site and, though I felt sore, I felt like another match was doable. The first match was more of the same--it was a really grueling fight all the way to another tiebreak. J. was getting to me with a really good net game that I had a terrible time breaking through, though I was a little more successful playing against it in the second and third sets. He was getting lots of angle shots and aggressive control from the net, and there were times where I just felt like there was nothing I could do. My offensive lobs against his net play seemed to go mostly out, though a couple of them worked. I would get ahead frequently, and then he would bear down and catch up. I was cussing under my breath and in my head a lot more this match, and was getting really frustrated.

In the tie-break, I was ahead by a large margin; I think it was 4-1 and then 5-2. Then he relentlessly caught up and I didn't win any more points. When he got to 5-5, I really lost my cool and got scattered. I cussed to myself, and could not get it together for the next two points, so I lost the set. I had thought that it was at that point that I screamed out the cuss word, but thinking about it again, I'm pretty sure it was in the second set.

In the second set, after completely losing my cool in the tiebreak, I was able to channel my anger into focus for the first two games. I was up 2-0, and then he mounted a comeback. He slowly outplayed me the next two games. I lost the last point of the fourth game of the set on an error where I didn't set up well, swung wildly, and hit a ball wide that I should have slammed down an area of the court that there was no way he could get to. This brought the score to 2-2, and I screamed "SHIT!" at the top of my lungs. I IMMEDIATELY (within less than a second) cooled off, chuckled sheepishly, and apologized to my opponent for my outburst. He was good-natured about it. I looked over at the other courts, and they were all empty except for a father teaching his very young daughter on the last court. Yikes! They left right after that.

But when I screamed out, it released all my anger. It made me completely calm for the rest of the set, and I won all the rest of the games in the set. And, though I did get a little impatient in the third set, it was not near as bad as it had been. Although the score was lopsided in the second and third sets, they were still really tough. I didn't win most of the games easily. There were a lot of long rallies and we went back and forth from deuce to ad in many of the games. But I was able to reach enough calmness to keep the pressure on and win the match, though I felt hungry and low on energy.

After this match, I was really sore and battered again. I went home and spent the whole time on recovery. I iced and stretched, and this time I ate a lot too as I was famished. Once again, I had barely enough time to prepare for the next one. I went out to my car to go to the next match, and when I went outside, I saw that it was misting. Not really raining, just forming light, tiny droplets of mist that looked like just enough to ruin tennis. The streets were definitely wet, and my car was covered with a fine pattern of droplets. But my driveway looked kind of dry. What the heck?! I decided to go ahead and go to the site, since it might just be dry enough to play, and maybe on that side of town, the conditions would be different.

As I drove to the site, I didn't know what to think about what to expect there. Sometimes, the streets looked soaked, and sometimes, they looked almost dry. The mist was relentless and constant, though, all the way there and once I got there. At this site, the streets and sidewalks were definitely wet. But the courts looked dry! And three of the four courts were occupied with people playing tennis.

I didn't know what to make of this. I was definitely ready to play another match, if the courts were dry enough. Sure, I was sore, but I felt about the same way I had felt before I started the second match. I had recovered enough to play and was ready to go. My opponent was not there yet, so I walked around to check it out. As I got close to the courts, I could see that they were almost imperceptibly damp, but maybe still playable? Shoot, there were three pairs of people who were playing on the courts. But they were finishing off what they had started earlier, not starting matches.

I went back to sit in my car and mull this over when my opponent called me on my cell phone. He said it was misting where he was and he thought it might be too wet. He asked me where I was and I told him I was at the site. I told him that it was wet, but the courts appeared, strangely enough, to be dry. I walked over to the courts again while I was on the phone to him and sort of slid my shoe on the court a little. Yeah, I could definitely feel some slippage. And I was definitely NOT in the mood to play on wet courts today. My sore legs could take the wear and tear of a normal (or even another grueling) match, but I could not handle having to slip around to rapidly change directions on a wet surface. I asked one of the players how the courts were and if they had been slipping around. He said it was not bad. My opponent and I talked about it on the phone for quite a while and finally decided not to play. First of all, the mist was not stopping and would only make the courts worse. Second of all, the sun had gone down, so there was going to be very little evaporation of what was already there. Third, the people who were there were motivated to finish what they had started and starting something right then was probably a worse prospect than finishing a match in progress. So we agreed to play again in a couple of weeks.