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.