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.