Set 494-495:
Stuart v. E. at Pharr Tennis Center. Winner: Split 6-2 (Stuart), 4-6 (E.)
My Mojo: Creaky.
Today, my daughter asked me if I wanted to go out and play some tennis. Which was strange for two reasons. First, she never asks me if I want to play; I always bug her to see if she wants to get out and hit some tennis balls. Second, I was just thinking about asking her if she wanted to go out and play when she asked me! Is that synchronicity or what?
I've really been lazy about playing lately. I think I've only played about three or four times in the last couple of months. I've got to get out on the courts at least a little more often than that. It's not like I haven't been active, though; I've been at the gym almost every day, among other stuff.
We originally were planning to play at the free courts in Patterson Park, but they were full. So we checked on Pharr across the street and they had a court open for us. So we ended up playing there.
The first set, I was holding my ground pretty well. Her groundstrokes were really good, and her strategy was strong, but my serve was totally wailing. I got in some really good serves including several aces and outright winners. My strokes were a bit on the tentative side, though.
In the second set, I wasn't quite able to win my service games through the power of my serve, and she came back from being down in a couple of games early, which put her ahead of me by 4-1. I did manage to make a strong comeback and won the next two games to bring the score to 4-3. After that, though, her strong groundstrokes and strategic maneuvering just got too good for me to overcome, especially since I was a little shaky anyway.
I tried to talk her into playing a third set to break the split, but she wouldn't play. I even tried to bait her by saying, "So you forfeit the third set and I win the match?" but that didn't work and she wouldn't budge. I might have pissed her off more by saying that she was 13 and ought to be able to play forever, while I was an old dude and still willing to play as long as she still was (or, heck, I might have even played with someone else who had walked up and wanted to play, but for the fact that I had to give her a ride home. But who knows, it's not a long walk home from there). Anyway, it was good to get out and play, even if it felt to me like an unfinished match. Also, the good news is that I don't think my knee is giving me problems any more.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Return Of The Clash With A Titan
Sets 492-493:
Stuart v. TennisTitan at Northwest Park. Winner: Stuart 6-4, 6-1.
My Mojo: Rusty.
I hadn't been playing much, but when I got an email from TennisTitan telling me he was in town, I was definitely willing to play. Actually, I play just about anytime anyone asks me to, but the invitations don't seem to be coming too often now that I'm not playing all the time, and I haven't really reached out to others for games much lately. That has to change.
But I digress. TennisTitan was gracious enough to work me into his busy vacation schedule when he came town to Austin, so I took a couple of hours off from work during the day to play. It was nice having a long lunch and spending time outdoors in the middle of the day on a work day.
In the first set, we went back and forth a lot in the games, and they were close, though I had an edge. Mostly I felt like my own errors were the main thing affecting my game in this set. Like I said, I hadn't been playing much, and my game was showing it.
Luckily, in the second set, I started picking it up. But it seemed like the farther I got into the set, the less he put into it. As the set moved on, I felt like I had a better and better advantage. I won the second set much more easily that the first. Anyway, it was good to see this "invader from the north" again, and I hope to play again, maybe on his turf. And, of course, you can read his much more colorful version of our racquet battle on his blog as well. Titan, sorry I was such a slug about getting this posted.
Stuart v. TennisTitan at Northwest Park. Winner: Stuart 6-4, 6-1.
My Mojo: Rusty.
I hadn't been playing much, but when I got an email from TennisTitan telling me he was in town, I was definitely willing to play. Actually, I play just about anytime anyone asks me to, but the invitations don't seem to be coming too often now that I'm not playing all the time, and I haven't really reached out to others for games much lately. That has to change.
But I digress. TennisTitan was gracious enough to work me into his busy vacation schedule when he came town to Austin, so I took a couple of hours off from work during the day to play. It was nice having a long lunch and spending time outdoors in the middle of the day on a work day.
In the first set, we went back and forth a lot in the games, and they were close, though I had an edge. Mostly I felt like my own errors were the main thing affecting my game in this set. Like I said, I hadn't been playing much, and my game was showing it.
Luckily, in the second set, I started picking it up. But it seemed like the farther I got into the set, the less he put into it. As the set moved on, I felt like I had a better and better advantage. I won the second set much more easily that the first. Anyway, it was good to see this "invader from the north" again, and I hope to play again, maybe on his turf. And, of course, you can read his much more colorful version of our racquet battle on his blog as well. Titan, sorry I was such a slug about getting this posted.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Got Beat By A Little Girl
Set 491:
Stuart v. E. at Patterson Park. Winner: E. 6-2.
Man, my daughter was playing well today. Almost all of her shots were accurate, her body movement was great, and I was responding sluggishly. I was really tired, having worked out at the gym for a couple of hours right before this. But she told me I couldn't use that as an excuse.
Stuart v. E. at Patterson Park. Winner: E. 6-2.
Man, my daughter was playing well today. Almost all of her shots were accurate, her body movement was great, and I was responding sluggishly. I was really tired, having worked out at the gym for a couple of hours right before this. But she told me I couldn't use that as an excuse.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Back Again For An Encore, Send Flowers To My Agent
Sets 483-485:
Stuart v. E. at Pharr. Winner: Stuart 6-2.
Trying again to come back from my stupid injury. It's not a really bad injury; just a bad bone bruise to the back of my patella, but it is taking forever to heal. And once again, I can tell that it's not fully healed yet. Crap.
Good news, though. My daughter had quit playing tennis about two years ago, and she wanted to play a set with me! She is thinking about joining her junior high tennis team and wants to play some before playing competitively again. Though the score was lopsided, and I won by a large margin, she is definitely a monster-in-waiting. Once she gets her form back, she will probably kill me. I could tell by the great posture she had, and the killer shots that she got on me that were really well-positioned. For the first time in two years that she has played, not bad at all. I mean, she has a different body now; she was 11 when she quit, and now she is 13. And her shots that used to be well-controlled are now erratic sometimes, but I bet with about two weeks of solid practice, she will be back to where she was.
Stuart v. H. at Pharr. Winner: H. 6-2, 7-5.
After my daughter and I played a set, this guy came up to see if I wanted to play. Since I still had the court for another hour, I was happy to pick up another couple sets. Now this was where my rustiness came through. I was not getting it together well at all in the first set. I think the games were closer than the score reflected, but I was a little off on just about every variable. In the second set, I started sharpening my pencil a little, but still could not deal a decisive hand. I was just happy to play after being off for so long.
Stuart v. E. at Pharr. Winner: Stuart 6-2.
Trying again to come back from my stupid injury. It's not a really bad injury; just a bad bone bruise to the back of my patella, but it is taking forever to heal. And once again, I can tell that it's not fully healed yet. Crap.
Good news, though. My daughter had quit playing tennis about two years ago, and she wanted to play a set with me! She is thinking about joining her junior high tennis team and wants to play some before playing competitively again. Though the score was lopsided, and I won by a large margin, she is definitely a monster-in-waiting. Once she gets her form back, she will probably kill me. I could tell by the great posture she had, and the killer shots that she got on me that were really well-positioned. For the first time in two years that she has played, not bad at all. I mean, she has a different body now; she was 11 when she quit, and now she is 13. And her shots that used to be well-controlled are now erratic sometimes, but I bet with about two weeks of solid practice, she will be back to where she was.
Stuart v. H. at Pharr. Winner: H. 6-2, 7-5.
After my daughter and I played a set, this guy came up to see if I wanted to play. Since I still had the court for another hour, I was happy to pick up another couple sets. Now this was where my rustiness came through. I was not getting it together well at all in the first set. I think the games were closer than the score reflected, but I was a little off on just about every variable. In the second set, I started sharpening my pencil a little, but still could not deal a decisive hand. I was just happy to play after being off for so long.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Back From The Dead
Set 482:
Stuart v. A. at Patterson Park. Winner: Stuart 6-0.
OK, I wasn't dead. I just had a knee injury that forced me to quit playing for a while. And I could tell during this set that it wasn't quite healed yet. I think it'll be OK in the long run, but I still need to take my time.
Stuart v. A. at Patterson Park. Winner: Stuart 6-0.
OK, I wasn't dead. I just had a knee injury that forced me to quit playing for a while. And I could tell during this set that it wasn't quite healed yet. I think it'll be OK in the long run, but I still need to take my time.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
No Dang Tiebreak, Period
Sets 479-481:
Stuart v. J. at South Austin Tennis Center. Winner: S. 6-1, 3-6, 6-0.
My Mojo: Uneven; On And Off And On Again, With A Touch Of Drama.
I played really well during the first set. I made very few errors, and just got the ball back every time, even though he had a majority of the power shots. And also, in the first set I was able to place the ball well so that he could not get tactical winners past me.
Sometimes a tennis game can be like one of those Russian eggs that has a number of eggs nested inside each other. There's the first egg, and then you open up the first egg, and you play your "first egg" game for a while, and then you come to a point where the next egg opens up. Often the next egg opens up at the beginning of a new set, but sometimes it can open up mid-set. Sometimes both of you open your next eggs at the same time, and sometimes one person gets to an advantageous next egg, while the other is still on the first (ever lost a set where you were up 5-0?).
My next egg opened up at the beginning of the second set, and was much weaker than my first egg. On the other hand, my opponent's next egg, which launched at the same time, was much stronger than his first egg had been. So I struggled throughout the whole next set, and I think the score was closer that the game was. I felt like I got whomped in the second set. I was returning the ball defensively and weakly, and that played to his strong point of hitting winners out of my reach.
When we finished the second set, we had about ten minutes left. My opponent wanted to play a match tiebreak, but I was not going along with that. I wanted to play a third set. I always let everybody know before I play that I don't like to play at the tennis centers, because we often can't finish the match. He tried to pressure me into the tiebreak, but I held firm, and I think it made him mad, and possibly made the quality of his game go down. So I won the third set in the next ten minutes (actually, we went a couple minutes over, but the next players got there late, and let us finish out a couple of points). So we were able to finish the set in the time allotted even though our play was kind of rushed. Our third eggs seemed to have emerged, and mine was consistent while his was half-hearted.
Now, I'm all for going along with the other player and playing a friendly game, but I don't like being pressured into a tiebreak. The rules of the ladder say that we play three sets unless both players agree, and I'm probably not going to agree to a tiebreak. I have done it before when I've been pressured into it, and I don't like it at all, although I wasn't completely happy with the way I won the third set in this match. But if you're reading this, be on notice; if we split, I want to play a third set!
Stuart v. J. at South Austin Tennis Center. Winner: S. 6-1, 3-6, 6-0.
My Mojo: Uneven; On And Off And On Again, With A Touch Of Drama.
I played really well during the first set. I made very few errors, and just got the ball back every time, even though he had a majority of the power shots. And also, in the first set I was able to place the ball well so that he could not get tactical winners past me.
Sometimes a tennis game can be like one of those Russian eggs that has a number of eggs nested inside each other. There's the first egg, and then you open up the first egg, and you play your "first egg" game for a while, and then you come to a point where the next egg opens up. Often the next egg opens up at the beginning of a new set, but sometimes it can open up mid-set. Sometimes both of you open your next eggs at the same time, and sometimes one person gets to an advantageous next egg, while the other is still on the first (ever lost a set where you were up 5-0?).
My next egg opened up at the beginning of the second set, and was much weaker than my first egg. On the other hand, my opponent's next egg, which launched at the same time, was much stronger than his first egg had been. So I struggled throughout the whole next set, and I think the score was closer that the game was. I felt like I got whomped in the second set. I was returning the ball defensively and weakly, and that played to his strong point of hitting winners out of my reach.
When we finished the second set, we had about ten minutes left. My opponent wanted to play a match tiebreak, but I was not going along with that. I wanted to play a third set. I always let everybody know before I play that I don't like to play at the tennis centers, because we often can't finish the match. He tried to pressure me into the tiebreak, but I held firm, and I think it made him mad, and possibly made the quality of his game go down. So I won the third set in the next ten minutes (actually, we went a couple minutes over, but the next players got there late, and let us finish out a couple of points). So we were able to finish the set in the time allotted even though our play was kind of rushed. Our third eggs seemed to have emerged, and mine was consistent while his was half-hearted.
Now, I'm all for going along with the other player and playing a friendly game, but I don't like being pressured into a tiebreak. The rules of the ladder say that we play three sets unless both players agree, and I'm probably not going to agree to a tiebreak. I have done it before when I've been pressured into it, and I don't like it at all, although I wasn't completely happy with the way I won the third set in this match. But if you're reading this, be on notice; if we split, I want to play a third set!
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Bad Weird Mojo
Sets 477-478:
Stuart v. J. at Austin High. Winner: J. 6-0, 6-1.
My Mojo: Horribilis.
I played worse than I have played in a long time. I couldn't even hardly get my racquet on the ball at all, and I had trouble getting to the ball. I knew I would get a lot of short balls from this guy, but I couldn't seem to get to the ones that he hit; they all seemed to be out of my range. His serve was also better than it had been every other time I had played him. So he played great, and I played crappy, and it was reflected in the score. I was dehydrated and the heat was getting to me, also, and my mood deteriorated. I left the court completely disgusted with my play.
Stuart v. J. at Austin High. Winner: J. 6-0, 6-1.
My Mojo: Horribilis.
I played worse than I have played in a long time. I couldn't even hardly get my racquet on the ball at all, and I had trouble getting to the ball. I knew I would get a lot of short balls from this guy, but I couldn't seem to get to the ones that he hit; they all seemed to be out of my range. His serve was also better than it had been every other time I had played him. So he played great, and I played crappy, and it was reflected in the score. I was dehydrated and the heat was getting to me, also, and my mood deteriorated. I left the court completely disgusted with my play.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Keeping The Edge
Sets 475-476:
Stuart v. A. at Northwest Park. Winner: Stuart 6-1, 6-3.
My Mojo: Just Over The Line.
I feel like I am on a hot streak lately. Or maybe I am coming off of a dud streak. For a long time, I couldn't seem to get my game together, but for the last few matches, it has really coalesced. Today, I was hitting pretty well, and my strategy seemed to be one of error-baiting. I have played against enough people thatI felt did that with me that I put it into play. I just played consistently, and didn't hit super-hard, but hit shots with medium to high-medium power and mostly playing to my opponent's position. The games were actually closer than the score reflected, but I felt like I had an edge for most of the match.
One thing was a slight distraction. My back was really messed up, so I was wearing a back brace. It has been messed up for the last three days, and I have worn the brace for each of the times I played in the last three days. Also my left knee has been giving me some problems. So I have been good buddies with ice packs and hot baths for the last few days. Hopefully none of this will get worse.
Stuart v. A. at Northwest Park. Winner: Stuart 6-1, 6-3.
My Mojo: Just Over The Line.
I feel like I am on a hot streak lately. Or maybe I am coming off of a dud streak. For a long time, I couldn't seem to get my game together, but for the last few matches, it has really coalesced. Today, I was hitting pretty well, and my strategy seemed to be one of error-baiting. I have played against enough people thatI felt did that with me that I put it into play. I just played consistently, and didn't hit super-hard, but hit shots with medium to high-medium power and mostly playing to my opponent's position. The games were actually closer than the score reflected, but I felt like I had an edge for most of the match.
One thing was a slight distraction. My back was really messed up, so I was wearing a back brace. It has been messed up for the last three days, and I have worn the brace for each of the times I played in the last three days. Also my left knee has been giving me some problems. So I have been good buddies with ice packs and hot baths for the last few days. Hopefully none of this will get worse.
Friday, June 20, 2008
A Mental Game That Briefly Crumbles
Sets 472-474:
Stuart v. C. at Vista Ridge. Winner: Stuart 6-2, 6-7(3), 6-2.
My Mojo: Solid Granite Turning To Sandstone For The Tiebreak.
This guy has beat me before both of the times we have played. But I really enjoy playing him, because we had really close and long matches and push each other to the limit. Tonight was no exception, except this time I won.
Throughout most of the match, I had good ball control and great consistency. The first and third matches I played much better, but in the second match, my error rate went up, andI made enough errors (and he hit enough winners) to go into a tiebreak.
Then the unexpected tiebreak we played messed up my mental state. I usually do a lot of mental preparation before a match, especially if I have had close matches with somebody that I have lost to several times. I visualize playing against that person's playing style for several days before the match, try to see myself hitting shots with good form, and get into a mental zone before the game. And that is what I did this time. It mostly worked, except he asked me to play a tiebreak that I wasn't familiar with. I figured I would end up having to play that tiebreak at some point anyway, so I agreed. But it really just crumbled my concentration. So I lost the tiebreak. I guess I can't completely blame it on that, because he played really well during the tiebreak.
But I didn'tlet that get to me, and I got my mental state back for the third set. I was able to hit a few more shots that were winners than he did in this set (though it did seem like he got some really good ones in, especially when I hit shots that came up weak and short that he was able to get an extreme angle on), and I also made less errors. I especially managed to avoid hitting shots long and got most of them right inside the baseline.
One thing that I lamed out on was my lobs when he came to net. They almost all seemed to come up short, and he returned them with overheads that I was rarely ever able to get to. But my serve was really on tonight.
Stuart v. C. at Vista Ridge. Winner: Stuart 6-2, 6-7(3), 6-2.
My Mojo: Solid Granite Turning To Sandstone For The Tiebreak.
This guy has beat me before both of the times we have played. But I really enjoy playing him, because we had really close and long matches and push each other to the limit. Tonight was no exception, except this time I won.
Throughout most of the match, I had good ball control and great consistency. The first and third matches I played much better, but in the second match, my error rate went up, andI made enough errors (and he hit enough winners) to go into a tiebreak.
Then the unexpected tiebreak we played messed up my mental state. I usually do a lot of mental preparation before a match, especially if I have had close matches with somebody that I have lost to several times. I visualize playing against that person's playing style for several days before the match, try to see myself hitting shots with good form, and get into a mental zone before the game. And that is what I did this time. It mostly worked, except he asked me to play a tiebreak that I wasn't familiar with. I figured I would end up having to play that tiebreak at some point anyway, so I agreed. But it really just crumbled my concentration. So I lost the tiebreak. I guess I can't completely blame it on that, because he played really well during the tiebreak.
But I didn'tlet that get to me, and I got my mental state back for the third set. I was able to hit a few more shots that were winners than he did in this set (though it did seem like he got some really good ones in, especially when I hit shots that came up weak and short that he was able to get an extreme angle on), and I also made less errors. I especially managed to avoid hitting shots long and got most of them right inside the baseline.
One thing that I lamed out on was my lobs when he came to net. They almost all seemed to come up short, and he returned them with overheads that I was rarely ever able to get to. But my serve was really on tonight.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Easy Money
Stuart v. C. and two other guys. Winner: S. 5-0, and various two out of three mini-matches.
Ok, there was really no money involved. But if there had been, it would have been easy money. I played a guy who was really rusty and not nearly as good as I am. I beat him easily and ran him around the court probably a little too much. He begged off after the fifth game and just about that time, two guys who looked about college age showed up. I offered to play them alternating two out of three mini-sets for king of the court. I won all those matches, too.
One of the guys had pretty good topspin but not much control over the ball. The other had a wicked extreme-angle serve that he also didn't have much control over. I won most of the little sets easily, but they each won a game occasionally. Of course, I don't get to count any of it here, because we didn't play any full sets.
Ok, there was really no money involved. But if there had been, it would have been easy money. I played a guy who was really rusty and not nearly as good as I am. I beat him easily and ran him around the court probably a little too much. He begged off after the fifth game and just about that time, two guys who looked about college age showed up. I offered to play them alternating two out of three mini-sets for king of the court. I won all those matches, too.
One of the guys had pretty good topspin but not much control over the ball. The other had a wicked extreme-angle serve that he also didn't have much control over. I won most of the little sets easily, but they each won a game occasionally. Of course, I don't get to count any of it here, because we didn't play any full sets.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Out-Endured, Just Barely
Sets 470-471:
Stuart v. D. at South Austin Tennis Center. Winner: Stuart 6-3, 6-3.
This guy was a good endurance player. Fortunately, so am I. The last time we played, it ended prematurely with an injury. But that time, he was outplaying me. This time, I just stayed in the rallies a little longer.
Stuart v. D. at South Austin Tennis Center. Winner: Stuart 6-3, 6-3.
This guy was a good endurance player. Fortunately, so am I. The last time we played, it ended prematurely with an injury. But that time, he was outplaying me. This time, I just stayed in the rallies a little longer.
Friday, June 13, 2008
The Long And Blinding Road
Sets 467-469:
Stuart v. K. at The Quarries. Winner: Stuart 6-3, 6-7(4), 6-3. We played a fourth short set, starting at 3-3, andI won that one, too, 7-5. But that one doesn't count.
My Mojo: Keep it Together.
There's a recurring theme in the move "Bowfinger" where one of Eddie Murphy's characters (the main one) keeps saying to himself, "Keep it together, keep it together, keep it together" really fast like an auctioneer or a speed freak. Well, I kept it together. Just barely.
Most of the time, I had a lot of calmness going on. But then, things would suddenly go in a direction that I hadn't anticipated (in other words, I started playing worse and he started playing better), and my calm attitude frayed. But I was usually able to bring it back. I prepared myself mentally a lot for this match. I tried to anticipate my mental state going south and prepared responses to that. I also tried to visualize my shots against the style of play that I thought my opponent would play. And for the most part, it worked
I played pretty well in the first set, and held an edge, though it was close. I kept telling myself thatI had to be ready for it to not be easy, and for this to be a long match. And it was. We consistently had long rallies, and games that went back and forth over and over from deuce to ad. We both play a long, grinding game, so when two people meet who play that way, it is going to be a marathon.
In the second set, I couldn't quite get an edge, and my mental state frayed just a bit. Still, I managed to get to a standoff, but my diminished mojo couldn't take me through the tiebreak.
In the third set, I think Ihadjusta little more oomph than he did. The games didn't seem to be quite as close, and I felt a little more confident about my play without getting to the point of overconfidence that makes it all fall apart.
Even though we had played for two and a half hours, I was ready to play another set, and I asked him if he wanted to. He agreed to play a short set. I had the same mindset as I did in the third set, and the set turned out about the same way.
Stuart v. K. at The Quarries. Winner: Stuart 6-3, 6-7(4), 6-3. We played a fourth short set, starting at 3-3, andI won that one, too, 7-5. But that one doesn't count.
My Mojo: Keep it Together.
There's a recurring theme in the move "Bowfinger" where one of Eddie Murphy's characters (the main one) keeps saying to himself, "Keep it together, keep it together, keep it together" really fast like an auctioneer or a speed freak. Well, I kept it together. Just barely.
Most of the time, I had a lot of calmness going on. But then, things would suddenly go in a direction that I hadn't anticipated (in other words, I started playing worse and he started playing better), and my calm attitude frayed. But I was usually able to bring it back. I prepared myself mentally a lot for this match. I tried to anticipate my mental state going south and prepared responses to that. I also tried to visualize my shots against the style of play that I thought my opponent would play. And for the most part, it worked
I played pretty well in the first set, and held an edge, though it was close. I kept telling myself thatI had to be ready for it to not be easy, and for this to be a long match. And it was. We consistently had long rallies, and games that went back and forth over and over from deuce to ad. We both play a long, grinding game, so when two people meet who play that way, it is going to be a marathon.
In the second set, I couldn't quite get an edge, and my mental state frayed just a bit. Still, I managed to get to a standoff, but my diminished mojo couldn't take me through the tiebreak.
In the third set, I think Ihadjusta little more oomph than he did. The games didn't seem to be quite as close, and I felt a little more confident about my play without getting to the point of overconfidence that makes it all fall apart.
Even though we had played for two and a half hours, I was ready to play another set, and I asked him if he wanted to. He agreed to play a short set. I had the same mindset as I did in the third set, and the set turned out about the same way.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
An Untimely End
Set 466:
Stuart v. J. at Austin High. Winner: Stuart 6-2, retired.
My Mojo: Edgy; Willing To Take Some Risk.
This started out really weird. For some reason, I thought the match was at South Austin Tennis Center. I got there, and he was not there. Shoot, I thought, I don't have his phone number. But the tennis center had it, and they let me call him. I felt like an idiot when he told me it was at Austin High. So I rushed over there in awful traffic, but still only managed to be about ten minutes late. Well, I've had people be much later that that with me before, so I'm doing OK on the lateness karma thing. Still, it was my goof.
When I got there, we warmed up quickly, but I waspretty much ready to play. My lateness made me feel kind of edgy in my play. Not a bad, jittery edgy, but a fun, willing-to-take-risks edgy. I hit of experimental shots that were not my usual style at all, but still managed to hold onto consistency. I won the first set. I wouldn't say it was all that easy, but the score was kind of lopsided.
Then my opponent said he felt sick and couldn't continue. I told him I hated to win that way, and he said he just didn't feel like he could keep going. So I won by forfeit/retirement. Too bad we didn't get to play it out; maybe another time when he feels better.
Stuart v. J. at Austin High. Winner: Stuart 6-2, retired.
My Mojo: Edgy; Willing To Take Some Risk.
This started out really weird. For some reason, I thought the match was at South Austin Tennis Center. I got there, and he was not there. Shoot, I thought, I don't have his phone number. But the tennis center had it, and they let me call him. I felt like an idiot when he told me it was at Austin High. So I rushed over there in awful traffic, but still only managed to be about ten minutes late. Well, I've had people be much later that that with me before, so I'm doing OK on the lateness karma thing. Still, it was my goof.
When I got there, we warmed up quickly, but I waspretty much ready to play. My lateness made me feel kind of edgy in my play. Not a bad, jittery edgy, but a fun, willing-to-take-risks edgy. I hit of experimental shots that were not my usual style at all, but still managed to hold onto consistency. I won the first set. I wouldn't say it was all that easy, but the score was kind of lopsided.
Then my opponent said he felt sick and couldn't continue. I told him I hated to win that way, and he said he just didn't feel like he could keep going. So I won by forfeit/retirement. Too bad we didn't get to play it out; maybe another time when he feels better.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
What, Me Winning?
Sets 429-433:
Stuart v. S. at Little Stacy Park. Winner: Stuart 6-2, 4-6, 6-2, 6-2, 6-2.
My Mojo: An Apathetic Wall.
I could not get up any enthusiasm for playing this match. I felt like my affect was completely flat, and I just could not get emotionally invested in this match at all. I really didn't much care if I won or lost and, to tell the truth, I thought I would just get blown out of the water and that would just be the way it was. I felt like I was not moving at all, but I was getting to the ball every time, and not just getting there, but being set up well. I felt like I was not swinging my racquet at the ball, but I got well-placed shots in almost every time. And even though I felt like I was just pushing weakly at the ball, a couple of times I stopped to consider my swing after it had finished, and the racquet was past my shoulder on my forehand right where it should be. If I had any empotions going in this game, it would have seemed phenomenal to me to have my play so divorced from my perceptions. But all the reaction I could muster was something like, "Hm, how about that." The weak point in my game seemed to be my serve, but like I said, I didn't really care. Even my serve was in good form for some of the time.
A couple of times I thought to myself, "Now why the hell am I doing so well in this match?" Then it changed to "Why on earth am I winning?" I was kinda puzzled when I stopped to think about it. But I was coasting too much to think most of the time. It seemed to me that I felt lazy, but my movements were not matching my attitude, as my motion was actually good. Everything seemed to fall into place for some strange, unexplained reason.
Even in the second set, which I lost, I didn't care. So I lose. Maybe I'll lose the next one. Maybe I'll lose the match. I was just an emotional iceberg couch potato who had somebody take over my body while I rested. And I didn't care how I played in the third set either. We shook hands as I guess I technically won the match after the third point.
In the fourth set, a funny thing happened. I got slightly bothered. For some reason, I was thinking that if he won the fourth set, it would wipe out my victory, and we would be back to tied, and I would have to work and worry. This lasted a couple of points, and then I dropped the emotions again and just went back to being a lazy robot, in which domain I stayed for the rest of the match.
So maybe it helped me that I was able to divorce my emotions from my play so much. But I don't know why I felt like I was not doing anything spectacular, yet my shots were good and I got to almost all of the balls without much effort. Of course, I must have been putting some effort into it. After this five set match, on the way home, I could feel the effects of two and a half hours of play. I wasn't exhausted, but I could feel that I had exerted myself. Maybe I was just "in the zone" but completely unconscious about it. Strange.
Stuart v. S. at Little Stacy Park. Winner: Stuart 6-2, 4-6, 6-2, 6-2, 6-2.
My Mojo: An Apathetic Wall.
I could not get up any enthusiasm for playing this match. I felt like my affect was completely flat, and I just could not get emotionally invested in this match at all. I really didn't much care if I won or lost and, to tell the truth, I thought I would just get blown out of the water and that would just be the way it was. I felt like I was not moving at all, but I was getting to the ball every time, and not just getting there, but being set up well. I felt like I was not swinging my racquet at the ball, but I got well-placed shots in almost every time. And even though I felt like I was just pushing weakly at the ball, a couple of times I stopped to consider my swing after it had finished, and the racquet was past my shoulder on my forehand right where it should be. If I had any empotions going in this game, it would have seemed phenomenal to me to have my play so divorced from my perceptions. But all the reaction I could muster was something like, "Hm, how about that." The weak point in my game seemed to be my serve, but like I said, I didn't really care. Even my serve was in good form for some of the time.
A couple of times I thought to myself, "Now why the hell am I doing so well in this match?" Then it changed to "Why on earth am I winning?" I was kinda puzzled when I stopped to think about it. But I was coasting too much to think most of the time. It seemed to me that I felt lazy, but my movements were not matching my attitude, as my motion was actually good. Everything seemed to fall into place for some strange, unexplained reason.
Even in the second set, which I lost, I didn't care. So I lose. Maybe I'll lose the next one. Maybe I'll lose the match. I was just an emotional iceberg couch potato who had somebody take over my body while I rested. And I didn't care how I played in the third set either. We shook hands as I guess I technically won the match after the third point.
In the fourth set, a funny thing happened. I got slightly bothered. For some reason, I was thinking that if he won the fourth set, it would wipe out my victory, and we would be back to tied, and I would have to work and worry. This lasted a couple of points, and then I dropped the emotions again and just went back to being a lazy robot, in which domain I stayed for the rest of the match.
So maybe it helped me that I was able to divorce my emotions from my play so much. But I don't know why I felt like I was not doing anything spectacular, yet my shots were good and I got to almost all of the balls without much effort. Of course, I must have been putting some effort into it. After this five set match, on the way home, I could feel the effects of two and a half hours of play. I wasn't exhausted, but I could feel that I had exerted myself. Maybe I was just "in the zone" but completely unconscious about it. Strange.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
A Turnaround Barely Puts It Through For Me, Then Puts A Cherry On The Whipped Cream
Sets 426-428:
Stuart v. S. at Travis High. Winner: Stuart 4-6, 6-4, 7-6(2)
My Mojo: Flipped 180 In Mid-Stream.
Usually I had played S. at private courts at his apartments. But he called me to say they tore his apartments down to build yuppie food. Bummer. I liked playing there. So we met at a convenience store, and went to Travis High. I guess it's sort of the end of an era, in a way. A mini-era, nonetheless, but still a bonafide era. Travis High was really loud, even though the freeway was kinda far away. I guess the sound just bounced right. But the weather was fantastic.
I started out playing even more of this malaise-ridden, poorly-formed ball humping that I had perfected the last two matches. And, naturally, the requisite depression and self-revulsion accompanied this symphony of miscoordination. The first set was almost completely garbage on my part. At least it was in my mind, but I didn't do nearly as badly as I did in my last two matches. We had a lot of long rallies, and it was really a close set, in retrospect.
Then I was able to push the reset button or something. The second set was much better, and my attitude was not swimming in the toilet. This is the drug I need. Good mojo turned around on a dime. Better than morphine. Well, maybe not; ask me on my deathbed. But it was good.
The third set was highly competitive all the way up. This is the kind of game I like to play. At least if I'm going to lose, let it be close. And let me not shoot myself trying to twirl the gun. Back and forth it went, with every advantage I built up being neutralized back to evenness, and vice versa. So it was at 6-6, and we had to play a tiebreak.
Then I broke out. I felt my footwork start to pick up, and my shots paid the rent, even though they didn't buy the casino. I was able to do what I had to and won the tiebreak 7-2. That was definitely the cherry on the whipped cream at the top of the sundae.
Stuart v. S. at Travis High. Winner: Stuart 4-6, 6-4, 7-6(2)
My Mojo: Flipped 180 In Mid-Stream.
Usually I had played S. at private courts at his apartments. But he called me to say they tore his apartments down to build yuppie food. Bummer. I liked playing there. So we met at a convenience store, and went to Travis High. I guess it's sort of the end of an era, in a way. A mini-era, nonetheless, but still a bonafide era. Travis High was really loud, even though the freeway was kinda far away. I guess the sound just bounced right. But the weather was fantastic.
I started out playing even more of this malaise-ridden, poorly-formed ball humping that I had perfected the last two matches. And, naturally, the requisite depression and self-revulsion accompanied this symphony of miscoordination. The first set was almost completely garbage on my part. At least it was in my mind, but I didn't do nearly as badly as I did in my last two matches. We had a lot of long rallies, and it was really a close set, in retrospect.
Then I was able to push the reset button or something. The second set was much better, and my attitude was not swimming in the toilet. This is the drug I need. Good mojo turned around on a dime. Better than morphine. Well, maybe not; ask me on my deathbed. But it was good.
The third set was highly competitive all the way up. This is the kind of game I like to play. At least if I'm going to lose, let it be close. And let me not shoot myself trying to twirl the gun. Back and forth it went, with every advantage I built up being neutralized back to evenness, and vice versa. So it was at 6-6, and we had to play a tiebreak.
Then I broke out. I felt my footwork start to pick up, and my shots paid the rent, even though they didn't buy the casino. I was able to do what I had to and won the tiebreak 7-2. That was definitely the cherry on the whipped cream at the top of the sundae.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
More Of The Same Foul And Ugly Scene
Sets 424-425:
Stuart v. B. at Pharr. Winner: B. 6-3, 6-4.
My Mojo: Way Low.
This was basically just part two of the match I played with my last opponent. Nothing worked right, and I was even more frustrated with my play than I was in the last match, even though points-wise it looks better. Still, I was off on my rhythm, I was hitting the tape a lot, I was hitting the ball with my racquet badly, and I was misjudging my shots. With me there to beat myself, who needs an opponent? The side of a barn would have beaten me even with most of its boards missing. And most of my boards were definitely missing.
Allow me to explain now that I am not just denigrating my opponent's play by making the excuse that I just tooled myself. B. played very well and was a complete master of extreme angle shots at my expense, especially when he got to the net. There was never any question over whether he would win. And my mood got fouler and more greasy as time went on. I kept exhorting primal screams of emotional agony, and denigrating myself verbally and mentally. I could not rid myself at all of the black cloud above my head. After the last point, when I lost the match, I let out a brutal cry of frustration and threw my racquet, which went much farther than I had intended, flew over the fence, and got stuck in a tree. Well, that made me feel stupid. I saw shock and concern in my opponent's eyes, and I apologized for my outburst and went to shake his hand. Nothing like making an ass out of yourself to bring you back to earth, I always say. My humility was compounded by having to walk all the way around the facility to retrieve my racquet, and then by having to shake it out of the tree.
Stuart v. B. at Pharr. Winner: B. 6-3, 6-4.
My Mojo: Way Low.
This was basically just part two of the match I played with my last opponent. Nothing worked right, and I was even more frustrated with my play than I was in the last match, even though points-wise it looks better. Still, I was off on my rhythm, I was hitting the tape a lot, I was hitting the ball with my racquet badly, and I was misjudging my shots. With me there to beat myself, who needs an opponent? The side of a barn would have beaten me even with most of its boards missing. And most of my boards were definitely missing.
Allow me to explain now that I am not just denigrating my opponent's play by making the excuse that I just tooled myself. B. played very well and was a complete master of extreme angle shots at my expense, especially when he got to the net. There was never any question over whether he would win. And my mood got fouler and more greasy as time went on. I kept exhorting primal screams of emotional agony, and denigrating myself verbally and mentally. I could not rid myself at all of the black cloud above my head. After the last point, when I lost the match, I let out a brutal cry of frustration and threw my racquet, which went much farther than I had intended, flew over the fence, and got stuck in a tree. Well, that made me feel stupid. I saw shock and concern in my opponent's eyes, and I apologized for my outburst and went to shake his hand. Nothing like making an ass out of yourself to bring you back to earth, I always say. My humility was compounded by having to walk all the way around the facility to retrieve my racquet, and then by having to shake it out of the tree.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Digging My Own Grave
Sets 422-423:
Stuart v. K. at South Austin Tennis Center. Winner: K. 6-3, 6-1.
My Mojo: Doomed.
This was not my absolute worst play, but if this match was a calculus problem, you might call it a "local minimum." Definitely a low point in my portfolio. My rhythm just seemed a bit off for most of the match, so I was hitting the tape a lot and getting a lot of shots that were just barely out. I was also getting an incredible number of mishits on my racquet; I was hitting the rim, miscalculating spin, and missing the sweet spot WAY too much. I was also not able to get to the net much at all, and when I did, I managed to goof it up. I guess it's just brain damage creeping up on me. No wait, maybe it's everything else that is damaged and the brain is watching in horror...
I can't say it all went completely badly, though. I got some good shots in occasionally. Also, when he rushed to net, sometimes I got some good lobs and passing shots when I was able to set my footwork and my body position correctly. But my messed-up rhythm was affecting my attitude more and more, and it all led to a grinding spiral into the drainpipe. Toward the end, I wasn't hitting good shots, and my attitude was deteriorating, so it all created a feedback loop of black noise that wrapped around me and crunched me like a hungry anaconda. I was just doomed from the get-go.
Stuart v. K. at South Austin Tennis Center. Winner: K. 6-3, 6-1.
My Mojo: Doomed.
This was not my absolute worst play, but if this match was a calculus problem, you might call it a "local minimum." Definitely a low point in my portfolio. My rhythm just seemed a bit off for most of the match, so I was hitting the tape a lot and getting a lot of shots that were just barely out. I was also getting an incredible number of mishits on my racquet; I was hitting the rim, miscalculating spin, and missing the sweet spot WAY too much. I was also not able to get to the net much at all, and when I did, I managed to goof it up. I guess it's just brain damage creeping up on me. No wait, maybe it's everything else that is damaged and the brain is watching in horror...
I can't say it all went completely badly, though. I got some good shots in occasionally. Also, when he rushed to net, sometimes I got some good lobs and passing shots when I was able to set my footwork and my body position correctly. But my messed-up rhythm was affecting my attitude more and more, and it all led to a grinding spiral into the drainpipe. Toward the end, I wasn't hitting good shots, and my attitude was deteriorating, so it all created a feedback loop of black noise that wrapped around me and crunched me like a hungry anaconda. I was just doomed from the get-go.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Hallucinations Of Angels With Dirty Faces Dancing In Casablanca
Sets 419-421:
Stuart v. E. at South Austin Tennis Center. Winner: E. 2-6, 6-4, 6-3.
My Mojo: Viral (Literally).
Note from two days later:
I got incredibly sick about five minutes after this match ended. I thought it was an electrolyte thing, but no, it was pure, weird, evil darkness that has gripped me like a lion with a helpless monkey in its jaws, and has haunted me through the weekend. Maybe I've got cholera or ebola, but more likely, it's just some run-of-the mill viral gungasmudge. So much for a dashingly romantic sudden death.
Anyway, I guess I'll ruminate more on this match later, when hopefully I will have stopped shivering away my mortal soul. Suffice it to say that my opponent was a sweet beacon of pure light who crushed me mercilessly nose down into the pavement at the end when I showed my weak underbelly; sort of like a cop chasing down a meth addict who just called her mother something foul and wretched. She absolutely ate my liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti. But, great fun; when do I get to do it again? And what a dazzling smile and cheerful, kind attitude she had while she mangled my nads on the court. Of all the gin joints, um, tennis courts, in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine. And so on. Of course, my unexplained hemhorrage of mojo near the end didn't help my case much; I was not leading the dance steps at all by the end, but rather, laying on the ground, cowering, screeching, "Not the face!". Say hello to my little frien'. Quite debonair, if I may say so myself, to have debased myself through my endgame play so methodically.
As my wretched disease seems to have obviously pierced the blood-brain barrier, causing me to go way overboard on the cinematic and theatrical cliches, I think I'll shut up now, at least until my body temperature won't fry bacon. I got it from the toilet seat, I swear. But, E., if you are reading this, I hope we both live to tango another day.
Four days later:
OK, I've recovered now. I got incredibly sick for a couple of days, was shaky for the third, but now I am feeling much better; well enough to have ridden my bicycle to work the last couple days and to have spent nearly two hours doing monjo full-on 85% cardio in the gym last night. Even though I was a little weak and goofy, my attitude, as usual, is one of "Hey, let's see if THIS kills me." And amazingly, it didn't. Kill me, that is. I did wake up kinda dehydrated this morning, but with a massive amount of water throughout the day, I was able to swat that particular mosquito out of the way.
So I guess now I'll blather on about the actual match. I came into this thing feeling pretty good. I was returning solidly in the first set, and getting good directionality on my shots. My play was very strong the first set and I felt like I didn't have much trouble winning most of the games in the first set. My serves were not ultra-magic or anything like that, but they were decent and I had no problem getting aggressive on a lot of points.
In the second set, I started encountering much more resistance from E. Her game ramped up, and I started tightening up too much so I was playing stiffly. In both the second and third sets, we started off competitive for the first few games but then I dropped my game toward the end. But in both sets, when I dorked out at the tail end of each one, it was for different reasons. In the second set, I fizzled at the end because my focus was dwindling, and so I was not able to naturally play with good form. In the third set, I just massively lost energy. I was confused by this, because I hardly ever just drop in energy level. I did keep a good attitude, though, and that helped keep some of the losing games close.
The last point of the match was one of the longest points I have played in a long time. It just seemed absolutely interminable; I don't know how long it lasted, but it was a very long series of rallies. I was frustrated during this point by my absolute inability most of the time to hit the ball anywhere but right in the center of the court exactly where E. was, so my failure to be able to properly strategize probably clinched the loss of the point.
Then, as soon as the match was over, I needed to take a couple minutes on the bench, because my energy was drained. That's when the wave of nausea hit, and the next couple days were absolute hell. I barely made it home and into bed, and was hardly out of the horizontal position for most of the weekend.
Stuart v. E. at South Austin Tennis Center. Winner: E. 2-6, 6-4, 6-3.
My Mojo: Viral (Literally).
Note from two days later:
I got incredibly sick about five minutes after this match ended. I thought it was an electrolyte thing, but no, it was pure, weird, evil darkness that has gripped me like a lion with a helpless monkey in its jaws, and has haunted me through the weekend. Maybe I've got cholera or ebola, but more likely, it's just some run-of-the mill viral gungasmudge. So much for a dashingly romantic sudden death.
Anyway, I guess I'll ruminate more on this match later, when hopefully I will have stopped shivering away my mortal soul. Suffice it to say that my opponent was a sweet beacon of pure light who crushed me mercilessly nose down into the pavement at the end when I showed my weak underbelly; sort of like a cop chasing down a meth addict who just called her mother something foul and wretched. She absolutely ate my liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti. But, great fun; when do I get to do it again? And what a dazzling smile and cheerful, kind attitude she had while she mangled my nads on the court. Of all the gin joints, um, tennis courts, in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine. And so on. Of course, my unexplained hemhorrage of mojo near the end didn't help my case much; I was not leading the dance steps at all by the end, but rather, laying on the ground, cowering, screeching, "Not the face!". Say hello to my little frien'. Quite debonair, if I may say so myself, to have debased myself through my endgame play so methodically.
As my wretched disease seems to have obviously pierced the blood-brain barrier, causing me to go way overboard on the cinematic and theatrical cliches, I think I'll shut up now, at least until my body temperature won't fry bacon. I got it from the toilet seat, I swear. But, E., if you are reading this, I hope we both live to tango another day.
Four days later:
OK, I've recovered now. I got incredibly sick for a couple of days, was shaky for the third, but now I am feeling much better; well enough to have ridden my bicycle to work the last couple days and to have spent nearly two hours doing monjo full-on 85% cardio in the gym last night. Even though I was a little weak and goofy, my attitude, as usual, is one of "Hey, let's see if THIS kills me." And amazingly, it didn't. Kill me, that is. I did wake up kinda dehydrated this morning, but with a massive amount of water throughout the day, I was able to swat that particular mosquito out of the way.
So I guess now I'll blather on about the actual match. I came into this thing feeling pretty good. I was returning solidly in the first set, and getting good directionality on my shots. My play was very strong the first set and I felt like I didn't have much trouble winning most of the games in the first set. My serves were not ultra-magic or anything like that, but they were decent and I had no problem getting aggressive on a lot of points.
In the second set, I started encountering much more resistance from E. Her game ramped up, and I started tightening up too much so I was playing stiffly. In both the second and third sets, we started off competitive for the first few games but then I dropped my game toward the end. But in both sets, when I dorked out at the tail end of each one, it was for different reasons. In the second set, I fizzled at the end because my focus was dwindling, and so I was not able to naturally play with good form. In the third set, I just massively lost energy. I was confused by this, because I hardly ever just drop in energy level. I did keep a good attitude, though, and that helped keep some of the losing games close.
The last point of the match was one of the longest points I have played in a long time. It just seemed absolutely interminable; I don't know how long it lasted, but it was a very long series of rallies. I was frustrated during this point by my absolute inability most of the time to hit the ball anywhere but right in the center of the court exactly where E. was, so my failure to be able to properly strategize probably clinched the loss of the point.
Then, as soon as the match was over, I needed to take a couple minutes on the bench, because my energy was drained. That's when the wave of nausea hit, and the next couple days were absolute hell. I barely made it home and into bed, and was hardly out of the horizontal position for most of the weekend.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Splittus Interruptus
Sets 417-418:
Stuart v. R. at Westlake High. Winner: Split. 6-2 (Stuart), 3-6 (R).
My Mojo: Tough But Slipping.
I started off playing a strong game. My footwork was excellent throughout most of the match and I was getting to shots that surprised even me when I got to them. Much of the stuff I was returning off the tip of my racquet I was able to hurl back solidly and with decent placement. At the beginning of the match, I was hitting powerful, deep strokes that allowed me to take charge of the carnival. My opponent tried to throw me off balance by hitting me some weak serves and drop shots, but I got to most of them, and I was able to turn the tables on him by playing a strong net game from where I ended up. I even dabbled in his strategy by hitting the occasional dink shot, just for amusement. It seemed to me that my opponent didn't handle most of the unexpected strategically weak balls nearly as well as I had done. So I felt like I won the first set pretty easily.
But in the second set, R, started surging back with strong shots and good strategy. My footwork was still strong, but I failed to maintain the focus on foot and body placement that I had previously had. He started playing good set-up shots for a net game, and then he was playing the net well when he got there. There's a doubles player's strategy for you. To top it off, many of my attempted lobs went embarassingly short, and that allowed him to dominate the net area and slam them down the court like bullets. Many of the second set's games were close, but he edged me out. I still felt like my energy was excellent, and I think I could have brought my focus into play again.
I was ready to play a third set, but he wanted to leave it where it was. There's a cognitive dissonance when the symphony is unresolved; I'd rather go belly up playing the oboe solo than walk away with the power chord hanging in the air waiting for closure. Oh well, next time I play a close contest like this, hopefully it'll be with someone who follows the sheet music all the way to the last trembling movement.
Stuart v. R. at Westlake High. Winner: Split. 6-2 (Stuart), 3-6 (R).
My Mojo: Tough But Slipping.
I started off playing a strong game. My footwork was excellent throughout most of the match and I was getting to shots that surprised even me when I got to them. Much of the stuff I was returning off the tip of my racquet I was able to hurl back solidly and with decent placement. At the beginning of the match, I was hitting powerful, deep strokes that allowed me to take charge of the carnival. My opponent tried to throw me off balance by hitting me some weak serves and drop shots, but I got to most of them, and I was able to turn the tables on him by playing a strong net game from where I ended up. I even dabbled in his strategy by hitting the occasional dink shot, just for amusement. It seemed to me that my opponent didn't handle most of the unexpected strategically weak balls nearly as well as I had done. So I felt like I won the first set pretty easily.
But in the second set, R, started surging back with strong shots and good strategy. My footwork was still strong, but I failed to maintain the focus on foot and body placement that I had previously had. He started playing good set-up shots for a net game, and then he was playing the net well when he got there. There's a doubles player's strategy for you. To top it off, many of my attempted lobs went embarassingly short, and that allowed him to dominate the net area and slam them down the court like bullets. Many of the second set's games were close, but he edged me out. I still felt like my energy was excellent, and I think I could have brought my focus into play again.
I was ready to play a third set, but he wanted to leave it where it was. There's a cognitive dissonance when the symphony is unresolved; I'd rather go belly up playing the oboe solo than walk away with the power chord hanging in the air waiting for closure. Oh well, next time I play a close contest like this, hopefully it'll be with someone who follows the sheet music all the way to the last trembling movement.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Windsurfing
Sets 415-416:
Stuart v. J. at Northwest Park. Winner: Stuart 6-3, 6-3.
My Mojo: Lucky Wind Blowing My Way.
I wish I could say that I won this match with absolutely brilliant play, but actually, I felt like I just kind of fumbled my way into a win. It was very windy, and there were gusts that would come up suddenly and even change direction occasionally. I think that I just got the lucky end of the stick with respect to playing in the wind.
My serve was not working the way I wanted it to at all. So I started experimenting with ultra-spin against the wind, and I alternated freakishly overspun serves (both spinning to the right and to the left) with hard, flat serves. Somehow, these seemed to get in the box. I can't say that they were doing what I wanted them to do, but the wind was cooperating to get them over the net. Also, I tried to play to my opponent's placement. Sometimes he would move in, so I would go for a slam serve to a difficult place to reach in the box. Then he would move back, and I would slice the crap out of it, or shoot a reverse slice. Not all of these worked, but it seemed like more of them did than didn't.
I think my opponent was having a much harder time with his serve. His groundstrokes were very solid with a lot of topspin, but once again, the wind was catching them in weird ways so he was getting a lot of shots either long or in the net. When he got in a good, deep, well-placed topspin groundstroke, it either put me on the serious defensive, or it whizzed by as a winner. My groundstrokes just seemed to get a little more lucky. I can't say it was completely luck on my part, because I did close some points really well, and I surged at the end of each set, but it was also in part due to my opponent's errors and possibly his frustration at having the wind take his shots apart. Heck, I'm used to my play in general taking my shots apart, so what's new...I just followed my usual pattern of trying to get one more shot over the net. I did get some good placements in some points. But I couldn't even begin to get anything approaching good footwork with the unpredictability of where the ball would fall, and I was returning a lot of shots late.
Friday, January 11, 2008
A Slow Dropoff
Sets 413-414:
Stuart v. E. at Travis Country. Winner: E. 6-3, 6-2.
My Mojo: Solid At First, But The Balloon Slowly Leaked Air.
It was just about perfect weather for playing tennis tonight. It was just a smidge on the cool side, so that when I got moving, it felt like optimal exercise weather. When I started this match, I was in a great mindset, and I was moving really well. I had ample time before the match to center my mental gravity, though having a well-toned mindset just didn't seem to be enough as the match progressed.
My strategy felt really good at the beginning of the first set. My serve was not working as well as I would have liked, but it was decent, though I did double-fault two or three times in the first set. My opponent was playing really well, and seemed to get more energetic as time went on. My energy didn't appear to diminish, but my focus and rhythm seemed to slowly deflate. So by the middle of the first set, I was not getting winning combinations in as much as I had been. It wasn't so much that I was not keeping pace, but I just was not closing the points well, and I also saw my errors creeping up. So at the end of the first set, I was just not getting the games in, though we were having really good and energetic points.
When the second set started, I briefly revitalized and recalibrated, and I was able to get some aggressive strategy going. Also, my serve flared up for a few games and I was getting some well-placed, solid serves in the box with good spin control. That was helping me keep control during the points, though most of my game was baseline play. But once again, the balloon started slowly deflating. Plus, my opponent was getting much better net play than I was. I just couldn't seem to get good approach shots in that would get me to the net, whereas E. was getting there much more and getting some great putaway shots through the domination of the points she was getting by making solid approaches to the net. Also, I was getting to a lot of "impossible" shots just a tiny bit late, and shooting the ball off into the seventh circle of oblivion from the tip of my racquet. One good thing that I had going for me throughout the match was that my mental state was good enough to still feel competitive, even when I was down, and I never did get into that dejected funk that seems to keep a player from putting on a decent three-ring circus. My rhythm was just a a thimble-full off, though, and that put me under the bleachers for the last half of the match. And because of this, my footwork was not happening as well as it had been when the rodeo started. Those factors in my play, combined with the fact that E. seemed to be playing more solidly as the match progressed, just etched the epitaph on my tombstone as I gracefully exited to stage left, leaving the awards for another day.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Unanticipated Fortune And Then A Good Match
Sets 410-412:
Stuart v. J. at Hunter's Chase. Winner: Stuart 4-6, 6-4, 7-5.
My Mojo: Tenacious And Steady.
Yesterday I had gone to a group lesson at Pharr, and I think I had had the worst tennis day I had since I started this blog. I played like a three-legged frog in a field full of excited hillbillies. And my mental attitude was so melted that I knew a half hour into the lesson that I had no business being there. But, for some reason, I went through the motions anyway, though I was mostly playing worse and worse. And, surprisingly, I got a couple of near-perfect winner shots in. I guess in the scheme of things, it's not too surprising to have two good shots in an hour and a half. But that's how bad I had been playing; I played so poorly that I pretty much gave up. So I went home and went to bed early and comforted myself with the thought that after a good night's sleep and a day's rest, I HAD to do better than I had done at the lesson.
Today when I got up, I felt much better, and figured I would play better tonight. I was right, but I'll get to that later. Strike two happened when I went home for lunch, and on my way back to work, I got in a wreck in my car. It was definitely not my fault at all. Some lady turned left in front of me from the lane to my RIGHT as I was approaching to pass her on the left. She was stopped in her lane, and I started to pass cautiously and slowly, because I had no idea what she was going to do. Then I saw her left turn light come on, and I thought, "Oh, crap!" I slammed on my brake and came to a complete stop, and I thought she was going to change lanes. If she had just changed lanes, she might have cleared my car, but she actually turned left, and the back of her car clipped the front of mine. I tried to hit my horn, and I briefly thought of trying to go into reverse, but I didn't have time to do either of these things. I heard a sickening crunch, and I thought it was going to be worse than it was. Once, when I was in a city bus, I felt an impact that felt about the same as this one, and the car that hit the bus from behind had its front end totally crumpled in. So I prepared for ugliness. But we both pulled over, and amazingly enough, there was only some lightly scratched paint on my car and a panel that was moved inward about a quarter to a half an inch, but I don't think it was dented. There was some denting on her car, but not a lot. She admitted it was her fault, and agreed to work it out with me after we traded insurance info and I called the police. Well, if she doesn't come through, I don't anticipate the repair will be that expensive anyway, but I've got the facts on my side, that's for sure. Man, did I luck out. I mean, to have gotten into a wreck on a major thoroughfare with two cars pointed in different directional vectors, I almost could not have asked for a better outcome outside of not impacting at all. I was just amazed that it was such a good outcome, and thank Mithras that I was defensive and paying attention.
So now to the match. I got there late because traffic was terrible and my opponent told me to get off at an exit that didn't exist. So I overshot it, and then started panicking, because I was not familiar with this end of town at all, and had no idea where to go. Luckily, I backtracked and found it mostly serendipitously. So I was only about seven minutes late; no big deal, really, since I had had many opponents be later than that and I had taken it gracefully. So karma owed me, and besides, I was late because of the directions my opponent gave me.
In the first set, he was hitting some well-placed power shots that were forcing me not only to play very defensively, but just barely be able to return the ball and not place it well. I felt like I was in a box for a while, but slowly started adapting to his game, and relaxing into my responses. Unfortunately, that didn't happen before the first set was over. Still, the first set was very close, with long games and drawn-out points.
In the second set, I strengthened my play in mid-set (but not before I was down 4-1). I caught up, and then won the set by hitting more solid returns and playing for position more. Still, when I caught one of his bullet train shots late and did a barely-return, he usually managed to slam them down my gullet decisively. I benefitted in this set in a few points from rallies that consisted of his whopping power shot, then my weak return, then his well-placed cannonball, then my minimal return from a position that probably both of us thought I would never get to, then an error by him on an attempted put-away. Shots like that probably gave him the edge in this set, and that's really nothing for me to be proud of. But I did win, and it was a solid close. He had this monster serve on ad court that whizzed near the mid-line that he aced me on several times, but I got more and more used to that, and by the end of the second set I was getting most of those rather than missing them. Also, I was hitting a lot of shots on the frame of my racquet, mostly from badly reading the spin he put on the ball.
The third set is when I really shone. My play was getting better and better, and was very low in unforced errors as the end grew nearer. Plus, in the third set, my serve was getting me great advantages, and I was dominating more points on my serve. My returns were also getting more solid and aggressive. I actually felt my energy growing rather than draining. To top it off, I was hitting less shots on the frame as I got better readings on his spin and ball speed, and I was guiding the ball into the sweet spot of my racquet better. When we were at 2-2, I thought my plan would be to keep pace with him and then surge at the close, and that was pretty much what happened. And "keeping pace" is an understatement for what happened; I think we had some of the most drawn-out, nail-biting games of the whole match in the last set. Of course, I would have liked to take a lead early, too, but I figured his serve would give him too much of an advantage at first (which it did), and I would be better positioned to pull out the last-minute burst of energy than he would I think I might have dropped a game or two as his power shots briefly made a triumphant return, but then I played a tough, consistent game to tie it at 5-5, and won the next two games solidly, both breaking his serve, and taking the game I served through power on the serve. My movement and placement strategy had also been getting better throughout the third set, and in the last two games, my strategy was working better than it had the whole match. Another thing that I think helped my game in the third set was that I didn't get tired and frustrated, and I had a lot of patience. I was able to plan things out well, and more often than not, my plans worked. And I was ready for a long, dug-in, close contest.
When the match was over, I felt like I was still ready to play more. I even thought briefly about trying to see if he wanted to play another set just for fun, but I just didn't think he would want to at that point, so I didn't ask. I thought he might be at the point that I was at a half-hour into my lesson last night (discouraged and tired), and if that was the case, what good would playing more do either of us?
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Soft Doubles and Hard Singles
Sets 408-409:
Stuart v. T. at Hill Country Middle School. Winner: Stuart 6-0, 6-3.
My Mojo: Squishy For Doubles, Solid For Singles.
I started out playing doubles, but it was weird doubles. There were five people, and we would rotate one person out and one person in after each game. So after four games, each of us found ourselves on a different team. I don't mind that for practice, but as competition it is just about useless to keep the game score. So we didn't keep score of how many games were won or lost, we just kept the point scores in the games.
After several games of this, I peeled off one of the players to play singles with me, and the other three played two-on-one. At least I guess they did. There weren't any courts open at Westlake High, so we moved to Hill Country Middle School down the street. So I don't actually know what the people we left behind at Westlake did.
When I had been playing doubles, I was very tentative. I didn't feel like I was playing that well, though the games that I served, whatever team I was on won fairly easily and we were able to grab the offense easily and keep it throughout the game. So I guess I must have been doing something right. But I didn't feel like I was very tuned in for doubles, and most of the games that I played the team I was on lost. Of course, once again, it was stupid to think of it in terms of winning or losing since the teams shuffled around every game, but I guess I just can't help compartmentalizing things in that way.
When T. and I started paying singles, it was like the curtain rose and the scales fell from my eyes. I was playing solidly, and in the first set I was able to maintain a pretty good offensive game. My serve didn't seem to be giving me as much of an advantage as it had during doubles, but everything every other facet of my game was really well-congealed, and things fell into place easily. And my serve was not bad, either. For the first set, I took every game, and it seemed almost effortless. I think we had one or two games that were contested, but I was able to close those without too many problems.
In the second set, his game stepped up, and mine loosened a little. For the first six games, we each won our serve so the score was tied at 3-3. The sixth game was also the most challenging game of the match as we went back and forth from deuce to ad a lot and also had long nailbiting points with many surprises. Then I broke his serve, and from then on, I was able to win the rest of the games.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
My New Year's Letter
Here is my New Year's letter that I sent out to close friends and family:
The 60s are as far away from our present time as the 20s were from the 60s. My kids like to listen to the Beatles and one of my daughters has said that she likes David Bowie. Isn't that comparable to a child in the 60s being into Rudy Vallee or Sophie Tucker? My 12-year old daughter made a phone call to me this year to tell me that she was excited that she was
actually using a rotary telephone at a friend's house, and that she had for the first time dialed a phone number using the rotary dial! And I heard my other daughter talk about how she liked to watch "old movies" (she was referring to movies like "Pretty in Pink" and "The Breakfast Club" from the 80s).
Anyone who is between 70 and 80 years of age has been around for about 1/3 of the time that the United States has been a nation. People in their 40s have lasted through about 1/5 of the tenure of this country.
Though there is nobody alive who remembers the French Revolution or the American Revolution, there are people around who remember the rise of the Bolsheviks in Russia, the imprisonment of Eugene V. Debs, each of the World Wars, the Great Depression, men walking on the moon, and the first resignation of an American president. And many of us also vividly recall the assassinations of John Kennedy, Bobby Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, John Lennon, Indira Gandhi, Anwar Sadat, Yitzhak Rabin, and recently, Benazir Bhutto.
There is at least one widow of a Civil War veteran who is still alive (or at least was as of September of 2007). Check this link:
http://www.footnote.com/page/1882/maudie-acklin-cantrell-hopkins-last . And just as amazing, check out this article about Revolutionary War widows who were alive in 1920:
http://query.nytimes.com/mem/archive-free/pdf?_r=1&res=9802E6D9173AE532A25757C2A9669D946195D6CF&oref=slogin . Yes, there are multiple veterans still alive from World War One (not a lot, but still there are more
that you might expect): http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surviving_veterans_of_World_War_I .
So many of the things that we take for granted and that are central to the way we live have only been around for a miniscule fraction of the history of humanity: oil, television, the Internet, telephones, computers, automobiles, electricity, microwave ovens...each of these items are used by many of us on a daily basis, but for long stretches of time, people lived without them. Yet one cannot say that the majority of people throughout time lived without them because our planet is so populated that a vast majority of the people who have existed throughout
human history have lived in the last 150 years, well within the domain of time covered by one of these listed inventions. With the population growing and the stores of fossil fuels dwindling, who knows how much longer we will use some of these things?
Also, take into account the number of things that have become virtually extinct, or almost so, by the path of rapid technological change: the telegraph, phone booths, computer bulletin board systems (BBSs), computer punch cards, drive-in movies, the slide rule, the stock ticker, laser disks...I'm sure many of you can think of other things that have become obsolete in the last few years.
Think about your ancestors--you have two parents, four grandparents, eight great-grandparents, expanding by a factor of two as you go back, so when you go back
twenty generations (which could be anywhere between three hundred and a thousand years, depending on the average age of each generation as they had children), you have over a million ancestors! What a paradox this appears to be considering that the human population is growing at an exponential rate, yet as you go backwards, you have more and more people in
your ancestry each generation. Of course, the further you go back, the more you see duplication of the same people in your ancestral lines, so this number may be somewhat (though not completely) illusory. Maybe this helps explain the song, "I'm My Own Grandpa!":
http://www.ziplo.com/grandpa.htm .
Feliz Año Nuevo! Just don't spell it without the tilde or you are talking about a rectal transplant. Feel free to pass these thoughts along to another gaggle of unwitting victims...or not...
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