Sets 341-343:
Stuart v. P. at Perry Park. Winner: Stuart. 6-4, 6-1, 6-1
My Mojo: Tinged With Melancholy Bile, But Present.
I've played this guy a bunch and I usually get the upper hand. But what I respect is that he is willing to play monjo numbers of sets. Now that's like my style. When I am getting creamed, I want to play even more.
Tonight I felt like crap while I was playing. I had felt vaguely under the floor all day. I'd been grumpy, and though I didn't quite feel cruddy enough to count it as sick, I was definitely not in top form. I almost thought about blowing it off, but just felt good enough to remain standing, maybe.
I somehow can play well a lot of the time when I'm feeling like steaming turds. the first set, I was a little more down that I was for the next two, but I still pulled my head out from the dark moist place loud enough to hear the pop. In the next two sets, my play was just steady enough to take a solid lead, but my stomach was not. Normally I would have played on, but this time I had to bow out after the third set. I almost thought about dumping after the second set and I don't know why I played a third or where the energy for continued vertical integrity came from. But, there it was, and here I am, still alive.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Intensity
Sets 339-340:
Stuart v. E. at Austin High. Winner: E. 7-5, 6-4.
My Mojo: Driven, But Drooping Near Each Set's End.
This was an intense match. I felt like we were both very focused, and wound tight. I know that at least I was. I was trying not to make missteps, but I kept subtly getting the short end of the strategy stick. There was a good deal of strategic interaction, and like I said, I mostly swam in the shallow end of the pool.
Not that it was a complete blowout. I was pretty competitive and close through most of each set, and then just kind of petered out at the end. He hit wit a lot of topspin and when he moved in, he was able to get some good angles and winner on me, whereas I mostly won more defensively. It didn't turn out to be good enough for me to take home the brass ring, but it was close.
Stuart v. E. at Austin High. Winner: E. 7-5, 6-4.
My Mojo: Driven, But Drooping Near Each Set's End.
This was an intense match. I felt like we were both very focused, and wound tight. I know that at least I was. I was trying not to make missteps, but I kept subtly getting the short end of the strategy stick. There was a good deal of strategic interaction, and like I said, I mostly swam in the shallow end of the pool.
Not that it was a complete blowout. I was pretty competitive and close through most of each set, and then just kind of petered out at the end. He hit wit a lot of topspin and when he moved in, he was able to get some good angles and winner on me, whereas I mostly won more defensively. It didn't turn out to be good enough for me to take home the brass ring, but it was close.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Light Banter Among The Gazelles
Sets 337-338:
Stuart v. S. at Travis Country. Winner: Stuart 6-2, 6-4.
My Mojo: Heavy On Defense.
This opponent had a lot of move. I told her that, panting, on one of the changeovers. She asked me if I meant that she was moving around a lot or if she was making me run around on the court a lot. It really applied to both. Not only was she getting good court coverage, but she was playing me all over the court. But that is my game. To run like a wild animal all over the dang place, looking like I can barely get to the ball, when I hit the impossible shots from the very tip of my racquet. I thought this match was much closer than the score reflected.
S. was also very bright, sparkly and talkative on the changeovers, and that was definitely a different stroke for me...most of my (male) opponents are just kinda all business--let's get out there, and pound that ball, and get it done. But the conversation added a sense of a series of half-time tea parties to the match. Reminded me of how when I used to watch my daughter play with all of her junior tennis partners, how they would have a lot of light banter on the changeovers, and if they could get away with it, they would take long, chatty breaks. But I digress.
The second match was even closer, and I was even running around more, and she was getting around better. Wish I could say what it was that I did right, but it must have been something, because I won, albeit by a whisker. Or maybe she just made a couple more errors than I did. There was some discussion of a third set during one of our little chatfests on the change during the second set.
I must be about the only person in the world who relishes the thought of playing a third set. Almost every match, I think to myself that it would be nice if we can get another set tacked on. Usually I even entertain throughts of that even if I am dead tired. But I do have to admit that every once in a while I am so beat that I barely make it to the end of the second set. Still, it didn't happen on this night.
Stuart v. S. at Travis Country. Winner: Stuart 6-2, 6-4.
My Mojo: Heavy On Defense.
This opponent had a lot of move. I told her that, panting, on one of the changeovers. She asked me if I meant that she was moving around a lot or if she was making me run around on the court a lot. It really applied to both. Not only was she getting good court coverage, but she was playing me all over the court. But that is my game. To run like a wild animal all over the dang place, looking like I can barely get to the ball, when I hit the impossible shots from the very tip of my racquet. I thought this match was much closer than the score reflected.
S. was also very bright, sparkly and talkative on the changeovers, and that was definitely a different stroke for me...most of my (male) opponents are just kinda all business--let's get out there, and pound that ball, and get it done. But the conversation added a sense of a series of half-time tea parties to the match. Reminded me of how when I used to watch my daughter play with all of her junior tennis partners, how they would have a lot of light banter on the changeovers, and if they could get away with it, they would take long, chatty breaks. But I digress.
The second match was even closer, and I was even running around more, and she was getting around better. Wish I could say what it was that I did right, but it must have been something, because I won, albeit by a whisker. Or maybe she just made a couple more errors than I did. There was some discussion of a third set during one of our little chatfests on the change during the second set.
I must be about the only person in the world who relishes the thought of playing a third set. Almost every match, I think to myself that it would be nice if we can get another set tacked on. Usually I even entertain throughts of that even if I am dead tired. But I do have to admit that every once in a while I am so beat that I barely make it to the end of the second set. Still, it didn't happen on this night.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Almost Dead At The End
Sets 334-336:
Stuart v. K. at The Quarries. Winner: K. 6-4, 5-7, 7-5.
My Mojo: Up, Down, Up, Down, Up, Dead.
This was a really tough match and playing it took a lot out of me. It didn't help that I had woken up the night before at two in the morning and could not get back to sleep, so I was pretty sleep-deprived by the time I played.
My opponent was not a really hard server, and he was a lefty. He was not a terribly hard hitter, but the weird spin was bedeviling me, and he was also pretty consistent. I found that when I became unfocused, my errors became my own worst enemies.
I played very well for the first three games and won them so I was up 3-0. I was playing aggressively and not making a lot of errors. Then my focus drifted away and I started losing games, mostly through my own errors. Before I knew it, I had lost the first set. This unfocused play continued through the second set, in which I was down 5-2. Then I suddenly got really focused again, and also felt very calm and cool. I came back to win the next five games, incredibly enough, to win the set 7-5.
In the third set I started off playing well and got up by 3-1. Then my focus started slowly unraveling as he picked up games. He tied up the score at 3-3, and then won the next game so he was up 4-3. I managed to get one last gasp of steam to bring me some decent play to tie the score up at 5-5. Then my mental state really unravelled as exhaustion set in. We had been playing really hard for about three hours. I started experiencing the kind of frustration that accompanied a complete draining of my energy. My errors were just killing me at this point and most of the points that I lost were due to errors. Also,many of the points became long "safe" rallies that I didn't have the upper hand on at this point because of my deteriorating attitude. I let out long primal screams of agony a couple of times as my weariness led me to too many errors, and in the end, I just could not get enough energy together to stay on top of it as I lost the last two games.
After the match, I went and sat in the shade for about five minutes to regain my strength and dissipate the heat that was taking over my body. I then went home and took a long nap, replenishing my body with the sleep that it had been deprived of.
Stuart v. K. at The Quarries. Winner: K. 6-4, 5-7, 7-5.
My Mojo: Up, Down, Up, Down, Up, Dead.
This was a really tough match and playing it took a lot out of me. It didn't help that I had woken up the night before at two in the morning and could not get back to sleep, so I was pretty sleep-deprived by the time I played.
My opponent was not a really hard server, and he was a lefty. He was not a terribly hard hitter, but the weird spin was bedeviling me, and he was also pretty consistent. I found that when I became unfocused, my errors became my own worst enemies.
I played very well for the first three games and won them so I was up 3-0. I was playing aggressively and not making a lot of errors. Then my focus drifted away and I started losing games, mostly through my own errors. Before I knew it, I had lost the first set. This unfocused play continued through the second set, in which I was down 5-2. Then I suddenly got really focused again, and also felt very calm and cool. I came back to win the next five games, incredibly enough, to win the set 7-5.
In the third set I started off playing well and got up by 3-1. Then my focus started slowly unraveling as he picked up games. He tied up the score at 3-3, and then won the next game so he was up 4-3. I managed to get one last gasp of steam to bring me some decent play to tie the score up at 5-5. Then my mental state really unravelled as exhaustion set in. We had been playing really hard for about three hours. I started experiencing the kind of frustration that accompanied a complete draining of my energy. My errors were just killing me at this point and most of the points that I lost were due to errors. Also,many of the points became long "safe" rallies that I didn't have the upper hand on at this point because of my deteriorating attitude. I let out long primal screams of agony a couple of times as my weariness led me to too many errors, and in the end, I just could not get enough energy together to stay on top of it as I lost the last two games.
After the match, I went and sat in the shade for about five minutes to regain my strength and dissipate the heat that was taking over my body. I then went home and took a long nap, replenishing my body with the sleep that it had been deprived of.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Bailed Out, Sick, In The Absolute Nick Of Time
Sets 332-333:
Stuart v. S. at His Apartments. Winner: Stuart 6-3, 6-4.
My Mojo: Strong And Swift, But Suddenly Ready To Barf.
For most of this match, I had some of the best play that I had manage to scrape together in quite a long time. I was really on top of my shots, my anticipation was excellent, my guesswork as to where the ball would go from my opponent's body position was almost 100%, and my strokes were aimed correctly and followed through well. S. usually beats me pretty badly, but I stayed on top for most of the match. I thought that I detected a little bit of a problem with his balance,but it seemed to get better as the match went on. The last couple of times that we played, when he had gotten down, he moved to a game where he varied the depth a lot and also aggressively rushed to net. But this time, I was ready for that, and I handled it much better. He also wasn't able to get in as much control in that type of game as I was able to make the rallies flow in such a way that it didn't work as well.
After about the fourth or fifth game I was ahead, and I half-joked that S. shouldn't worry--he'd catch up. And I believed that at the time. I have played a lot of sets with S. where I get way up, and he comes barrelling from behind to win. But my play kept on staying up there, and I ended up winning both sets. However, suddenly in the last game, I was gripped with an incredibly strong wave of nausea. It came on really quickly right in the last few points of the last game. I hung on, hoping to be able to win and stop playing soon, but there were a couple of deuce and ad points that intervened. I was just hanging on for dear life in the last few points. If he had won the last game and tied up the score, I think I would have had to retire. But I managed to get a critical point after it moved to my ad, and I won the match. Usually we would play another set or two at this point, but I was just too sick to continue. I barely made it up the hill to my car, and took off, but I did feel better after about a half hour and some fluid infusion.
Stuart v. S. at His Apartments. Winner: Stuart 6-3, 6-4.
My Mojo: Strong And Swift, But Suddenly Ready To Barf.
For most of this match, I had some of the best play that I had manage to scrape together in quite a long time. I was really on top of my shots, my anticipation was excellent, my guesswork as to where the ball would go from my opponent's body position was almost 100%, and my strokes were aimed correctly and followed through well. S. usually beats me pretty badly, but I stayed on top for most of the match. I thought that I detected a little bit of a problem with his balance,but it seemed to get better as the match went on. The last couple of times that we played, when he had gotten down, he moved to a game where he varied the depth a lot and also aggressively rushed to net. But this time, I was ready for that, and I handled it much better. He also wasn't able to get in as much control in that type of game as I was able to make the rallies flow in such a way that it didn't work as well.
After about the fourth or fifth game I was ahead, and I half-joked that S. shouldn't worry--he'd catch up. And I believed that at the time. I have played a lot of sets with S. where I get way up, and he comes barrelling from behind to win. But my play kept on staying up there, and I ended up winning both sets. However, suddenly in the last game, I was gripped with an incredibly strong wave of nausea. It came on really quickly right in the last few points of the last game. I hung on, hoping to be able to win and stop playing soon, but there were a couple of deuce and ad points that intervened. I was just hanging on for dear life in the last few points. If he had won the last game and tied up the score, I think I would have had to retire. But I managed to get a critical point after it moved to my ad, and I won the match. Usually we would play another set or two at this point, but I was just too sick to continue. I barely made it up the hill to my car, and took off, but I did feel better after about a half hour and some fluid infusion.
A Quick Decline
Sets 330-331:
Stuart v. T. at Northwest Park. Winner: T. 6-4, 6-1.
My Mojo: Decent At First, Then Deflated.
I played well for the first eight games. The score was tied at 4-4, and then I just started phoning it in. I became sluggish and could not move my feet any more, and my shots became erratic. I only managed to win one more game after that and I never did get any energy or focus back.
Stuart v. T. at Northwest Park. Winner: T. 6-4, 6-1.
My Mojo: Decent At First, Then Deflated.
I played well for the first eight games. The score was tied at 4-4, and then I just started phoning it in. I became sluggish and could not move my feet any more, and my shots became erratic. I only managed to win one more game after that and I never did get any energy or focus back.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
An Opponent Who Hadn't Played In A While
Sets 328-329:
Stuart v. R. at Northwest Park. Winner: Stuart 6-0, 6-0.
My Mojo: Placid.
This was a pretty easy two sets. There was not really a lot of running or exertion, and the points were cut off quickly. My opponent had not played in quite a while, and though she started off fairly sluggish, she got some good points in near the end. All I had to do was hit the ball back, but I did try to do more than that most of the time. Still, there weren't a lot of points in play; I took the vast majority of the points and all the games. Maybe after she gets a little more practice, she'll come back and whomp me to kingdom come.
I was trying to find opponents in different places. I have mostly been finding people to play through either one of the ladders or sometimes through the local tennis organization website, though probably 90% (at least) of the people I have been playing come from the main ladder. So I tried Craig's List and a local tennis meetup group on the web this week, just to see if I could get some variety. I found R. on the meetup group. She was a good sport (as I probably would be if I got galomped), and maybe she'll work on her game and play me again. I could tell her shots could be good if she got her game back.
Stuart v. R. at Northwest Park. Winner: Stuart 6-0, 6-0.
My Mojo: Placid.
This was a pretty easy two sets. There was not really a lot of running or exertion, and the points were cut off quickly. My opponent had not played in quite a while, and though she started off fairly sluggish, she got some good points in near the end. All I had to do was hit the ball back, but I did try to do more than that most of the time. Still, there weren't a lot of points in play; I took the vast majority of the points and all the games. Maybe after she gets a little more practice, she'll come back and whomp me to kingdom come.
I was trying to find opponents in different places. I have mostly been finding people to play through either one of the ladders or sometimes through the local tennis organization website, though probably 90% (at least) of the people I have been playing come from the main ladder. So I tried Craig's List and a local tennis meetup group on the web this week, just to see if I could get some variety. I found R. on the meetup group. She was a good sport (as I probably would be if I got galomped), and maybe she'll work on her game and play me again. I could tell her shots could be good if she got her game back.
Monday, September 10, 2007
A Golden Arm And A Tailwind
Sets 326-327:
Stuart v. J. at Pflugerville HS. Winner: Stuart 6-3, 6-2
My Mojo: Solid.
I felt really good through most of this match. For most of it, my arm and body were working together well to allow me to swing through my shots almost perfectly. There were moments when I lost it, but it came back quickly. I felt like The Man With The Golden Arm. Plus, I felt like I was not expending a whole lot of effort, in contrast to the last two matches I played, where I was barely able to stand. It felt good to be in control of most of the rallies, though he did pull me wide and get some really good winners and angles in that I couldn't get to. But those shots seemed to be happening less and less toward the end of the match as I felt I was able to anticipate more and more. Also, it seemed like he was losing steam as the match progressed, while I just felt like I was settling more into my game. As the match went on, I felt almost like I was running a race with a tailwind behind me. Everything was happening fairly effortlessly and I felt pretty confident about my play.
Stuart v. J. at Pflugerville HS. Winner: Stuart 6-3, 6-2
My Mojo: Solid.
I felt really good through most of this match. For most of it, my arm and body were working together well to allow me to swing through my shots almost perfectly. There were moments when I lost it, but it came back quickly. I felt like The Man With The Golden Arm. Plus, I felt like I was not expending a whole lot of effort, in contrast to the last two matches I played, where I was barely able to stand. It felt good to be in control of most of the rallies, though he did pull me wide and get some really good winners and angles in that I couldn't get to. But those shots seemed to be happening less and less toward the end of the match as I felt I was able to anticipate more and more. Also, it seemed like he was losing steam as the match progressed, while I just felt like I was settling more into my game. As the match went on, I felt almost like I was running a race with a tailwind behind me. Everything was happening fairly effortlessly and I felt pretty confident about my play.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
An Early Flameout Kills My Game
Sets 323-325:
Stuart v. S. at NW Park. Winner: S. 6-7(4), 6-3, 6-4.
My Mojo: Early Burnout.
I started out playing well, and was on my toes with really good anticipation for the first set and the first couple games of the second set. My first serve was working well most of the time, but my second serve was not so good and I was reduced to just trying to get it in the box. I made more double faults than I would have liked, and I can't say that that in itself cost me the last two sets, but it didn't help.
The biggest factor that cost me the match was that my body just kind of gave out after the first couple games of the second set. After being up 2-1 in the second set, I lost all but one of the rest of the games in the second set. I must have still been dehydrated from the night before, and probably didn't fully recover. But I definitely checked out of the motel and just kind of hit a wall. It wasn't complete agony like last night, just an inability to summon up much energy, though I still felt able to stand and hit. I suddenly was not on my toes, my footwork became muddy, and my shots were not as precise. My opponent asked me a couple of times if I was OK, so my lack of energy must have been observable; I answered that I was all right, which was basically the case. I definitely didn't think I was in danger of keeling over. I had brought a quart of water and two quarts of sports drink with me, and drank them all by the beginning of the third set. Boy, I didn't think that I would need more than that, but next time I'll bring a gallon of fluids or more, just in case.
The third set went a little better, though I didn't feel any more energetic than I had for the last part of the second match. I was down 4-2, and was able to pull it together mentally to win the next two games to tie it up, which I thought was incredible, considering my physical exhaustion. In one of those games, which I served, I was able to come up with solid first serves and take all of the points. But after that little burst of clarity, I couldn't get my mind wrapped around the game any more, and did just about everything wrong; I watched in frustration as my control drained away and I lost the next two games to lose the match.
Stuart v. S. at NW Park. Winner: S. 6-7(4), 6-3, 6-4.
My Mojo: Early Burnout.
I started out playing well, and was on my toes with really good anticipation for the first set and the first couple games of the second set. My first serve was working well most of the time, but my second serve was not so good and I was reduced to just trying to get it in the box. I made more double faults than I would have liked, and I can't say that that in itself cost me the last two sets, but it didn't help.
The biggest factor that cost me the match was that my body just kind of gave out after the first couple games of the second set. After being up 2-1 in the second set, I lost all but one of the rest of the games in the second set. I must have still been dehydrated from the night before, and probably didn't fully recover. But I definitely checked out of the motel and just kind of hit a wall. It wasn't complete agony like last night, just an inability to summon up much energy, though I still felt able to stand and hit. I suddenly was not on my toes, my footwork became muddy, and my shots were not as precise. My opponent asked me a couple of times if I was OK, so my lack of energy must have been observable; I answered that I was all right, which was basically the case. I definitely didn't think I was in danger of keeling over. I had brought a quart of water and two quarts of sports drink with me, and drank them all by the beginning of the third set. Boy, I didn't think that I would need more than that, but next time I'll bring a gallon of fluids or more, just in case.
The third set went a little better, though I didn't feel any more energetic than I had for the last part of the second match. I was down 4-2, and was able to pull it together mentally to win the next two games to tie it up, which I thought was incredible, considering my physical exhaustion. In one of those games, which I served, I was able to come up with solid first serves and take all of the points. But after that little burst of clarity, I couldn't get my mind wrapped around the game any more, and did just about everything wrong; I watched in frustration as my control drained away and I lost the next two games to lose the match.
Friday, September 7, 2007
Playing Though Pain
Sets 320-322:
Stuart v. K. at Riata Park. Winner: K. 6-7(5), 6-3, 7-5.
My Mojo: Resistance Is Futile.
I hadn't played in quite a while, since I had been on vacation, travelling up through Washington D.C to New England and then Quebec, so I had been out of the loop for a while. This was the first match I had played since I played in New York. I had been to a group lesson the night before to warm up and started getting it back a little, but today I could definitely feel a little rusty.
In the first set, it was extremely close. He took the lead at first, then I caught up, and we got the score to 6-6 and played a tiebreak. In the tiebreak, at first Itook a lead, then he caught up, but I managed to squeak it out by a score of 7-5.
In the second set, I dropped games early, and he started playing really good strategy, moving in for the point and often finishing with a winner. I thought I had a chance of catching up, but in the middle of the set I started having minor cramps that hampered my ability to get much going. I got a few good games in, but he mostly dominated this set. Before I knew it, I was down 4-1. I brought it back and kept pace the next couple of games, but it was too late, and I lost the set 6-3.
The third set was when the cramps really started kicking in. At many times, just about every muscle in my body was cramping up badly. My right hand kept clamping around my racquet, and I had to constantly keep stretching to just be able to remain standing. I thought about retiring several times, but then again, I wasn't dead yet. So I kept playing.
Early on in the third set, he took a big lead. We had much more difficult games than we did in the second or first sets and there were a lot of long, grinding games. I got the bad end of most of the first ones and once again was down 4-1. I really don't know how I remained standing, I was in so much pain from the cramps that were getting more and more intense. But I actually started coming back for a while. I won the next game to bring it to 4-2, then won the next one to get to 4-3. The next game was very close, but I lost it, so I was down 5-3. Physically, Iwas a complete mess, howling in pain occasionally when a bad cramp came my way. But, like I said, I wasn't dead yet. You're not having fun until you drop dead, I always say. I managed somehow to take the lead on points and win the next two games to bring it to 5-5. I just couldn't get it happening for the next two games, though. Not only did the continual cramps turn into a virtual hurricane in my body and mess up most of my shots, but he got some great line drives in that I could not get near in my state of muscular near-failure. By the end of the match, I was just glad I was still able to stand (barely), and made the drive home constantly seizing up. When I got home, I started chugging Pedialyte and vinegar, and after about 45 minutes, I was good enough to at least fall asleep.
Stuart v. K. at Riata Park. Winner: K. 6-7(5), 6-3, 7-5.
My Mojo: Resistance Is Futile.
I hadn't played in quite a while, since I had been on vacation, travelling up through Washington D.C to New England and then Quebec, so I had been out of the loop for a while. This was the first match I had played since I played in New York. I had been to a group lesson the night before to warm up and started getting it back a little, but today I could definitely feel a little rusty.
In the first set, it was extremely close. He took the lead at first, then I caught up, and we got the score to 6-6 and played a tiebreak. In the tiebreak, at first Itook a lead, then he caught up, but I managed to squeak it out by a score of 7-5.
In the second set, I dropped games early, and he started playing really good strategy, moving in for the point and often finishing with a winner. I thought I had a chance of catching up, but in the middle of the set I started having minor cramps that hampered my ability to get much going. I got a few good games in, but he mostly dominated this set. Before I knew it, I was down 4-1. I brought it back and kept pace the next couple of games, but it was too late, and I lost the set 6-3.
The third set was when the cramps really started kicking in. At many times, just about every muscle in my body was cramping up badly. My right hand kept clamping around my racquet, and I had to constantly keep stretching to just be able to remain standing. I thought about retiring several times, but then again, I wasn't dead yet. So I kept playing.
Early on in the third set, he took a big lead. We had much more difficult games than we did in the second or first sets and there were a lot of long, grinding games. I got the bad end of most of the first ones and once again was down 4-1. I really don't know how I remained standing, I was in so much pain from the cramps that were getting more and more intense. But I actually started coming back for a while. I won the next game to bring it to 4-2, then won the next one to get to 4-3. The next game was very close, but I lost it, so I was down 5-3. Physically, Iwas a complete mess, howling in pain occasionally when a bad cramp came my way. But, like I said, I wasn't dead yet. You're not having fun until you drop dead, I always say. I managed somehow to take the lead on points and win the next two games to bring it to 5-5. I just couldn't get it happening for the next two games, though. Not only did the continual cramps turn into a virtual hurricane in my body and mess up most of my shots, but he got some great line drives in that I could not get near in my state of muscular near-failure. By the end of the match, I was just glad I was still able to stand (barely), and made the drive home constantly seizing up. When I got home, I started chugging Pedialyte and vinegar, and after about 45 minutes, I was good enough to at least fall asleep.
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