constuctive criticism's my middle name
so i was supposed to have some sort of internship with the Post Standard this summer... but with work and everything I just have NO time at all. didn't entirely work out. i figure i should appear to be a less-than-so-bland sort of person... so i took up writing 'contributing articles' to this tennis magazine recieved by all the juniors who play in the curcuit. i figure if i can land at least one published before i apply to schools, it'll look just as dandy.
look at it if you're interested. i tend to write long, so i would lovve suggestions on how to cut it down. also, your thoughts. i haven't read over it yet to proofread, so point stuff out too. i can take it.
What makes a forehand beautiful? How does one man’s serve so perfectly connect with his overall game over someone else’s preference? I could sit here and roll off the theory behind any shot and its connection with a specific type of game, but thankfully, for those of us who take a more casual approach to watching quarter-finalists duke it out on [indicate court surface here], John McEnroe and X are more than reliable. While we may nod inquisitively at Mr. McEnroe as he philosophizes on some technique to make ourselves appear semi-knowledgeable and assure others to “not worry, its complicated”, we must ask ourselves, is it really the timing of the swing we pay attention to? As I grew up in the game, my coach always pushed me to watch tennis on television. I did not understand why for the longest time, wondering, what can an eleven-year-old learn from two people who have dedicated their lives to a sport and consequently swing the racquet so fast that I could barely keep up? That unless I practice for five hours a day I would never be any good? After some time, I began actually watching the matches, as opposed to having them as my background soundtrack to doing-something-else. I quickly noticed things that I had not expected. I saw the graciousness of some players, and the sheer callousness of others. I quickly picked favorites, based not essentially on the game they play (what did I know?), but the attitude they carry. Soon enough it became obvious to me why Andre Agassi remained a household name even while he had slipped from the high standings. Having never even seen him in person, it was obvious even to a preteen girl from his composure, manner, and stance, that he was just a likeable guy. It was right around that time that I realized a crucial part of the game. Attitude is everything.
Amid the fervor of the summer grand-slams winding their way down to the US Open, it is often said that it is easy to look past the actual talent of these young, ambitious, and enthusiastic players, and focus more on just that which makes them enthusiastic: their attitude. It is the personality of these rising stars that gives a certain edge, or a specific flair to the game. More so than any other sport, tennis players can be brutally scrutinized, or else painstakingly praised for their conduct and their poise. Looking back to Andy Roddick’s 2003 US Open championship, it is not the match point or even the score that everyone remembers, it is the reaction of Roddick to his victory. Running up to the stands to kiss his then-girlfriend Mandy Moore, then to jump back on court to accept his trophy, tears streaming down his face from a bittersweet combination of disbelief and overwhelming joy, alongside the unnerving nostalgia of a kid who worked undeniably hard for something, and got it. It is amazing how Lleyton Hewitt’s more-than-occasional hand pump, or Venus William’s jumping in excitement after beating Maria Sharapova at Wimbledon adds so much character to the game of tennis. However, with every ounce of charm added to the game, shreds of integrity are stripped from it through the alter-egos of the sport.
When I was younger, my mom and I used to always make fun of the Sportsmanship Award. I was on a swim team, and out of the other local clubs, we were unmistakably the worst team. There is no way to sugar-coat it, we were just bad. We also happened to be presented with the Sportsmanship Award every year. One year, we pulled out of last place and the award fell into the hands of the team that occupied our former ranks. In my younger-mind, I simply associated such an award with whoever was the worst, that it was awarded to make the least talented person feel better about themselves. As an active player in the USTA Juniors Curcuit, never has this vague, but undeniable characteristic of simple sportsmanship been so endearing.
At eleven or twelve, it was okay to ask someone during a changeover, in an attempt to make a little friendly conversation, “So do you play any other sports?” without offending them. At sixteen or seventeen, it’s not even worth it; most of the time you’ll just get a funny look. While the number one player in this or that section commands my earnest respect, so does number one hundred thirty seven… who is goalie for their varsity lacrosse team, student body secretary, volunteers an hour a week at an inner-city daycare, and currently working on a portfolio for a top-notch art school. Well-roundedness is highly underrated at times. It is good to be dedicated to something, but not to the point where it is all-encompassing. Interestingly enough, often parents are to blame. Pressure put on a kid is inevitably channeled into their game through a thoroughly dampened attitude. Altogether, the respect the game once yielded has become somewhat deteriorated. At a tournament once, I played this girl who, according to some teammates of mine who knew her off the court, was a nice girl. I, apparently, just got the wrong impression. I lost to her, but managed to secure several games each set. I come off the court and smile at this woman I assume to be her mother, who screams past me, “YOU, OVER HERE, NOW.” The fact that this girl dropped a few games to me (who obviously does not live up to her mother’s standards) did not go over well. Immediately I understood where this girl’s callous nature on the court came from. The same week, I played this other girl, and after our match, I asked her how she had done thus far. I was surprised when she said that she had lost to a specific person. She then explained that the match came down to a third set… and there were these guys from the baseball team who she wanted to go out with that night. While I do not advocate “throwing the match” in any event, I was very impressed… all I could think to myself was, “Wow, a normal girl around here.” Her mother overheard and laughed. This support system, as opposed to ‘motivation’ capped by intimidation, fosters a talented player instead of discouraging them. Kids are naturally inclined to go against things that their parents push them too hard to do if their heart is not fully there. That is why you hear of cases of ‘burn-outs’. These are kids with incredible talent, but were pushed so hard that they were deprived of other aspects of their lives. Without a balanced schedule of academics, tennis, and a social life, a player could be digging his or her own hole. Parents too often hand them the shovel.
I am not condemning junior tennis. For so many it is enjoyable, and the fierce competition it brings has become a part of my, and many other’s lives. It is up to the parents and kids, however, to bring the good emotion back into the game. The top pros act as role models for our conduct on the court. There will be frustration, there will be bad calls, and no matter how hard you practice, sometimes the ball will go out. Stop focusing on the mistakes, and enjoy the good shots. Parents need to encourage and nurture their child’s interest in tennis, but if they decide to join the soccer team, or choose to attend a concert over a tournament, it is not the end of the world. Laugh with victory, learn from defeat, work harder, but above all love the game. It will show through on and off the court.
look at it if you're interested. i tend to write long, so i would lovve suggestions on how to cut it down. also, your thoughts. i haven't read over it yet to proofread, so point stuff out too. i can take it.
What makes a forehand beautiful? How does one man’s serve so perfectly connect with his overall game over someone else’s preference? I could sit here and roll off the theory behind any shot and its connection with a specific type of game, but thankfully, for those of us who take a more casual approach to watching quarter-finalists duke it out on [indicate court surface here], John McEnroe and X are more than reliable. While we may nod inquisitively at Mr. McEnroe as he philosophizes on some technique to make ourselves appear semi-knowledgeable and assure others to “not worry, its complicated”, we must ask ourselves, is it really the timing of the swing we pay attention to? As I grew up in the game, my coach always pushed me to watch tennis on television. I did not understand why for the longest time, wondering, what can an eleven-year-old learn from two people who have dedicated their lives to a sport and consequently swing the racquet so fast that I could barely keep up? That unless I practice for five hours a day I would never be any good? After some time, I began actually watching the matches, as opposed to having them as my background soundtrack to doing-something-else. I quickly noticed things that I had not expected. I saw the graciousness of some players, and the sheer callousness of others. I quickly picked favorites, based not essentially on the game they play (what did I know?), but the attitude they carry. Soon enough it became obvious to me why Andre Agassi remained a household name even while he had slipped from the high standings. Having never even seen him in person, it was obvious even to a preteen girl from his composure, manner, and stance, that he was just a likeable guy. It was right around that time that I realized a crucial part of the game. Attitude is everything.
Amid the fervor of the summer grand-slams winding their way down to the US Open, it is often said that it is easy to look past the actual talent of these young, ambitious, and enthusiastic players, and focus more on just that which makes them enthusiastic: their attitude. It is the personality of these rising stars that gives a certain edge, or a specific flair to the game. More so than any other sport, tennis players can be brutally scrutinized, or else painstakingly praised for their conduct and their poise. Looking back to Andy Roddick’s 2003 US Open championship, it is not the match point or even the score that everyone remembers, it is the reaction of Roddick to his victory. Running up to the stands to kiss his then-girlfriend Mandy Moore, then to jump back on court to accept his trophy, tears streaming down his face from a bittersweet combination of disbelief and overwhelming joy, alongside the unnerving nostalgia of a kid who worked undeniably hard for something, and got it. It is amazing how Lleyton Hewitt’s more-than-occasional hand pump, or Venus William’s jumping in excitement after beating Maria Sharapova at Wimbledon adds so much character to the game of tennis. However, with every ounce of charm added to the game, shreds of integrity are stripped from it through the alter-egos of the sport.
When I was younger, my mom and I used to always make fun of the Sportsmanship Award. I was on a swim team, and out of the other local clubs, we were unmistakably the worst team. There is no way to sugar-coat it, we were just bad. We also happened to be presented with the Sportsmanship Award every year. One year, we pulled out of last place and the award fell into the hands of the team that occupied our former ranks. In my younger-mind, I simply associated such an award with whoever was the worst, that it was awarded to make the least talented person feel better about themselves. As an active player in the USTA Juniors Curcuit, never has this vague, but undeniable characteristic of simple sportsmanship been so endearing.
At eleven or twelve, it was okay to ask someone during a changeover, in an attempt to make a little friendly conversation, “So do you play any other sports?” without offending them. At sixteen or seventeen, it’s not even worth it; most of the time you’ll just get a funny look. While the number one player in this or that section commands my earnest respect, so does number one hundred thirty seven… who is goalie for their varsity lacrosse team, student body secretary, volunteers an hour a week at an inner-city daycare, and currently working on a portfolio for a top-notch art school. Well-roundedness is highly underrated at times. It is good to be dedicated to something, but not to the point where it is all-encompassing. Interestingly enough, often parents are to blame. Pressure put on a kid is inevitably channeled into their game through a thoroughly dampened attitude. Altogether, the respect the game once yielded has become somewhat deteriorated. At a tournament once, I played this girl who, according to some teammates of mine who knew her off the court, was a nice girl. I, apparently, just got the wrong impression. I lost to her, but managed to secure several games each set. I come off the court and smile at this woman I assume to be her mother, who screams past me, “YOU, OVER HERE, NOW.” The fact that this girl dropped a few games to me (who obviously does not live up to her mother’s standards) did not go over well. Immediately I understood where this girl’s callous nature on the court came from. The same week, I played this other girl, and after our match, I asked her how she had done thus far. I was surprised when she said that she had lost to a specific person. She then explained that the match came down to a third set… and there were these guys from the baseball team who she wanted to go out with that night. While I do not advocate “throwing the match” in any event, I was very impressed… all I could think to myself was, “Wow, a normal girl around here.” Her mother overheard and laughed. This support system, as opposed to ‘motivation’ capped by intimidation, fosters a talented player instead of discouraging them. Kids are naturally inclined to go against things that their parents push them too hard to do if their heart is not fully there. That is why you hear of cases of ‘burn-outs’. These are kids with incredible talent, but were pushed so hard that they were deprived of other aspects of their lives. Without a balanced schedule of academics, tennis, and a social life, a player could be digging his or her own hole. Parents too often hand them the shovel.
I am not condemning junior tennis. For so many it is enjoyable, and the fierce competition it brings has become a part of my, and many other’s lives. It is up to the parents and kids, however, to bring the good emotion back into the game. The top pros act as role models for our conduct on the court. There will be frustration, there will be bad calls, and no matter how hard you practice, sometimes the ball will go out. Stop focusing on the mistakes, and enjoy the good shots. Parents need to encourage and nurture their child’s interest in tennis, but if they decide to join the soccer team, or choose to attend a concert over a tournament, it is not the end of the world. Laugh with victory, learn from defeat, work harder, but above all love the game. It will show through on and off the court.