Thoughts about Tennis Tradition...

[don_budge]

The Mission...Robert DeNiro and Jeremy Irons

Speaking of Ennio Morricone...this from "The Mission"...starring Robert DeNiro and Jeremy Irons.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oag1Dfa1e_E

This is a movie about the "settling" and "civilizing" of the Americas. Before the times political correctness.

http://www.veoh.com/watch/v19975805P...+Mission+(1986)

You know how I love to draw parallels between tennis and life. The current game of tennis sort of a fictitious account of the reality of the game. The fictitious accounts of history have played some rather funny games with our concept of the past as well. Traditionally speaking...this post is in line with the thread.

A little taste of reality...Real Tennis...with Mats Wilander.

https://uk.eurosport.yahoo.com/video/mats-point-tennis-history-193456943.html

The account of the native peoples of this continent and their plight is largely a myth. The truth is much harder to swallow although it gets easier as time goes by. The same cannot be said for tennis. Tennis' connection with the reality of the game as it was played for over a hundred years has become distorted and unrecognizable. Hmmm...another "history" lesson.

[don_budge]

Don Budge vs. don_budge...time will tell

I think Don Budge would be proud of don_budge. The way you've represented the man on the forum is quite something. I think he'd be touched...that would be the best word describe it...touched. How could he not be.

The best that I could hope for...is that he would be amused. I know that he would have been. He had quite a sense of humor, you know.

On a different note...something is dawning on me. Just because you are in a minority of one it doesn't make you mad.

I have been on something of a rant in the Australian Open thread regarding the conditions of the game of tennis. While I don't apologize...it occurs to me that this is truly a phenomena that George Orwell could well appreciate. This is "Orwellian" by definition...he who controls the present controls the past.

Which sort of confirms that answer to the question that I always ask my students...What is power? Answer...control is power.

The whole paradigm of something so traditional as the sport of tennis was so radically changed and accepted by the masses without barely a whimper it is scary. Even today it occurs to me that there are those that would say that my views are criminal...because I perceive the reality of the situation differently than the masses. Truly group think...truly political correctness...truly thought police.

But if the conditions of the game are once more engineered back from where they came...I will be vindicated. Even though in my heart I am at peace with myself there is a hostility out there that I don't quite understand on "the planet of tennis". I believe that this is a case of...only time will tell. Amen.

[stotty]

What a book! I've read a fair amount already. Wouldn't you just love to have an H.G. Wells time machine to be able to go back and watch that game?

I'd use my time machine to go hurtling back to peek at ancient Rome, the final hours in the bunker, and old tennis matches...plenty of old tennis matches.

I think Don Budge would be proud of don_budge. The way you've represented the man on the forum is quite something. I think he'd be touched...that would be the best word describe it...touched. How could he not be.

And now for something completely different:

Working out the steps is a very complicated process—something like writing music. You have to think of some step that flows into the next one, and the whole dance must have an integrated pattern. If the dance is right, there shouldn't be a single superfluous movement. It should build to a climax and stop! - FRED ASTAIRE

[don_budge]

Happy New Year 2014...and beyond!

It is eleven in the evening here in Sweden, but it is only five in the afternoon back in Michigan where I lived most of my life. My former life, that is. I would just like to wish everyone here on the forum a Happy New Year...welcome back Phil. It's nice to hear from you again.

I was once again searching for one of those backhands from the past. You know...that is how I came across TennisPlayer.net. I was searching for a backhand...the "real" Don Budge's backhand. I had a student that was switching over to the one-handed backhand so I googled "Don Budge backhand" and it led me to here. The rest is history...as they say.

But this time I was searching for the Pancho Segura backhand as I was curious what he had on his left hand wing that matched the incredible forehand that I found for a student of mine. I was trying to match her right hand wing that was basically out-of-control so to speak...with something that matched her left hand wing which didn't look so bad at all.

Once again...I struck pay dirt. Somehow the search for the Segura backhand led me to this book "excerpt". The book is called "The Terrible Splendor". As the story goes...it is a story of three extraordinary men. Baron Gottfried Von Cramm, J. Donald Budge and William Tilden III. Three extraordinary men indeed. Three extraordinary men that played an extraordinary game and made it their life's purpose. Tennis.

For me...this book says it all. The book is about the greatest tennis match that was ever played and this account of it is the best that I have ever heard or read. That goes to hearing the original story from the horses mouth himself...I sat next to Don Budge one summer night in Maryland someplace at a seafood restaurant and after drinking several glasses of champagne he was telling me quietly on the side a bit about this historical match. I never did quite get the gist of the whole story until I read this account which once again filled my heart with love...the love of the game. You know what I am talking about. All of you. We share the same love.

When I found this I knew immediately what I was going to do with it. I was going to post it and share it with you guys on this forum. All of you students of the game. If you have not read it then I have a rare opportunity to give you a special gift...the gift of the spirit of the game. In these passages...should you choose to read it you will find the essence of what the game is about. The very meaning of tennis. As Don Budge dueled the aristocratic Von Cramm on Center Court at Wimbledon in a 1937 Davis Cup match that has long been heralded as the greatest tennis match ever played. In this book some of the pages have been omitted...so if you want to know the whole story you will have to order the book.

When I was eighteen years old in 1972 I spent the first of two summers at the Don Budge Tennis Camp. I wasn't old enough to realize just what that name meant to tennis. My father gave the trip to his camp to me as a gift and I was lucky that Don invited me to spend the rest of the summer at the camp and the next as a counselor. Sometimes I am tempted to write about the magic of those two summers and someday I hope that I will. But now...I am the exact same age as Don Budge was when I knew him back in 1972 and 1973 so I realize what a gift that was to be in his presence for such a long time. He took a special interest in me it seems and who knows...maybe it somehow kept me out of jail. Those were turbulent times...instead of being at Budge's tennis camp those summers I might have been at Camp Vietnam.

When I found this book on the internet I read all of it in one sitting. Knowing Mr. Budge of course is one thing...but the character of Baron Gottfried Von Cramm is another thing and then of course there is that hapless hero of the game...William Tilden III. All heroes...two of them convicted of being homosexuals in less sympathetic times. It wasn't so long ago either. Not historically speaking. Needless to say...times have changed. Just as the game of tennis has.

Well...I am old enough to know now. Old enough to know a thing or two. Maybe not only about tennis even though there may be some doubt as to actually how much I know about tennis. It was suggested here on the forum that one contributor may have forgotten more than I ever would know. I won't argue though...everyone is entitled to their opinion. Ever so humble as they may be.

But I must confess one thing here to all of you...and most of you already know it. I must confess that I never realized that when I took the user name of don_budge that I would ever be posting on the forum here. But I must confess that I am extremely proud that I did. I can honestly say that I do it in honor and in memory of the man himself and I hope that he would be proud of me...and I think that he would have. He liked me...I know that. He helped me...he helped me to let the game come to me. In my own way...I was always true to her. I defend her honor...to the end.

I joined the website on December 31, 2009 and here it is December 31, 2013. Four years to the day. I arrived here in Sweden from the United States on December 30, 2004. Nine years ago...almost to the day. Much has happened hasn't it? Much to me and much to the rest of the world. It is ironic isn't it? The earth has gone around the sun exactly four times and has returned to the same point in time and space. But isn't it the irony in life that keeps it interesting. Interesting that is, for those of us that have the luxury of pondering the irony of it. Some are fighting for the next meal....aren't they? It is tough out there. Sure it is. It got tough too, for that aristocratic son of a gun Von Cramm too. Circumstance. Is it luck or fate? You tell me. Some combination of? I don't know. I am always guessing fate though. For lack of a better answer. Well...that and for meeting an angel in my dreams. Also meeting the devil in a nightmare.

So here it is my friends..."The Terrible Splendor" by Marshall Jon Fisher. What a story about the greatest tennis match that was ever played and about the lives of the three principal characters involved. My old friend J. Donald Budge, the Baron Gottfried Von Cram and William Tilden III. If ever there was a tale that catches the spirit of the game...I believe that this is it. If it isn't...then it is at least one of the three little dots that you will need to connect the past with the present...and into the future. That being said...there is no better time than to post this now in hopes that you will enjoy it half as much as I have.

When shall we three meet again?
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

When the hurlyburly's done,
When the battle's lost and won.

That will be ere the set of sun.

-Macbeth

Yours Truly...don_budge

http://books.google.se/books?id=Or9G72yAd9QC&pg=PT326&lpg=PT326&dq=pancho+segura+backhand&source=bl&ots=TJPSwV3hYu&sig=YzO5G2bvyn-Eeq5h49eLyLAWbuA&hl=en&sa=X&ei=yDa_Uvi0Gany4QSVgoGABA&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q=pancho%20segura%20backhand&f=false

Good luck in the next year...and all of the years that follow. Live life as you play the game. In that way you will have fewer regrets.

[bottle]

I believe it.

[don_budge]

Winning and Losin'....what's the difference? Answer...not much sometimes.

I was so far down that I couldn't get up...you know and one day I was one of life's losers...


Winning...Santana (1981)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0FmPg4lrBKc

One day I was on the ground
When I needed a hand
Then it couldn't be found
I was so far down that I couldn't get up
You know and one day I was one of life's losers
Even my friends were my accusers
In my head I lost before I begun

I had a dream but it turned to dust
And what I thought was love
That must have been lust
I was living in style
When the walls fell in
And when I played my hand
I looked like a joker
Turn around fate must have woke her
Cause lady luck she was waiting outside the door

I'm winning
I'm winning
I'm winning
I'm winning and I don't intend losing again

Too bad it belonged to me
It was the wrong time and not meant to be
It took a long time and I'm new born now
I can see the day that I bleed for
If it's agreed that there's a need
To play the game and to win again


Remember me, I was your fool, for really quite a long time...so I know how it feels to play on the losin' end...


Losin' End...The Doobie Brothers

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imQ4zzg601o

There aren't enough words to say
When all I mean is I no longer love you
I'd like to leave it lie right there 'cause the rest ain't kind

I'm picking up my pride and I'll be on my way
If you no longer need me
I only have a word or two that I care to say

If you should ever find your spirit start to breaking
Girl, when your heart is aching
Remember me, I was your fool, for really quite a long time
So I know how it feels to play on the losin' end

When you finally turn and find no one around
To catch you when you're falling
To hear you when you're calling from down on the losin' end
Oh, ain't it just the losin' end

To catch you when you're falling
To hear you when you're calling from down on the losin' end
Oh, ain't it just the losin' end

Oh, ain't it just the losin' end
Hey, hey now baby, oh, ain't it just the losin' end
No, no, oh, ain't it just the losin' end

[don_budge]

How to Stop Losing? Stop being such a loser...

How do you stop losing? How about this...stop being such a loser. Listen to the words of "Losin' End" by the Doobie Brothers. I was listening to this song back in 1972...my friend Thomas Williamson was turning me on to the Doobie Brothers way back then. We were at the Don Budge Tennis Camp together. He showed me Carlos Castaneda too. The Journey to Ixtlan. The Lessons of Don Juan.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imQ4zzg601o

It's pathetic...isn't it. Listening to this poor sap...playing the fool. The sucker. That's ok...life's like that. We all take a turn...we are all losers. No one here gets out alive anyways.

Down on your luck? Life got you down? What are you going to do about it?

The first thing you do is lift your head up...you just got hit by a train didn't you? Still alive? Pick your head up because you just never know...there may be another train hot behind the other one that just ran over you. Railroad tracks over your heart...like Mike MacDonald sings about in "Losin' End".

Assess the situation. How bad is it? Can you think your way through it? Can you get your head around it? You're still thinking...that's a good sign. Still alive. Still kicking. There is still hope. Ok...lift up your head. Get up. Dust yourself off. You're ok. Still in the game.

Tennis? Love? What's the difference? Losers are losers...somebodies got to love don't they? Somebodies got to lose don't they? Maybe it's just your turn. Or my turn. The question is...do you hate to lose? Will you fight with all of your heart...with all of your soul? For all that is dear to you. Will you reach down deep...to Davy Jones Locker if you have to? Don't you want to be a hero? You're damn right...said John McEnroe to Jiminy Glick.

Check out Santana's "Winning". What's the difference between this song and the one that the loser is singing..."Losin' End".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0FmPg4lrBKc

Check it out. What is the difference? Come on...be honest with yourself. Honestly...the difference? Not much. Not much at all. Things could have been different. A couple of points may have gone your way. Is it luck? Is it fate? Join the crowd...all asking the same question. Chance or destiny? Hmmm...take your pick.

We are all losers. One day you are on top of the world. You show up to her apartment one day and she says...I have to go away for a while. The world crumbles right in front of you. What do you do? I don't know...I don't have any answers. Find the heart to start over...it's not so easy sometimes.

So here we are. Having this little honest discussion...me, myself and I. Winning? Losing? Those two impostors...treat them just the same. It's only life. It comes in a couple of different shades...black and white. One day you are on top and the next you are fighting for air. It can happen overnight...or it can take forever...death on the installment plan.

How to Stop Losing? Stop being such a loser. It's a hard habit to break. But you know what the kick start is...listen to "Winning". The first step is to hate losing. Then you get up...lift your head up first. Dust yourself off. Yeah...you can take a punch with the best of them. You can lose without being a loser. You hate to lose...as much as you hate being a loser. So you do what needs to be done. You do what ever it takes. You assess the situation. And you fight. You fight. You never quit. Because you hate to lose. You fight to the very last point. This is your mode of operation. It is in your genes. Because you hate to lose.

Today...I was playing against my much younger partner. We play games up to fifteen...starting the point with a groundstroke to the opponents forehand. Today we played for an hour and a half. I won 5-1. After a week...that left me weak. Thursday I didn't know what was wrong with me. No gas in the tank. Nothing. I made it through my lessons. Four hours. I had two hours of playing singles for lessons on Wednesday. Extra hours...extra lessons on Monday and Tuesday. Dog tired. I said to the wife before I left today...I don't know how much longer I can continue to play singles.

But half the battle is showing up. So I got there early and I waited on him. He won the first game...it was tough. He is motivated, strong and in shape. I have been teaching him for a couple of years now. He is playing more and more like me...only twenty years younger. Built like a real horse...my friend and partner. I won the next three games and each seemed to be tougher than the previous.

Then we were playing the longest point of the day...he had me four or five balls. Running me from side to side...I am playing defense...just barely staying in the point. Finally...I neutralize the point and we are on even footing. But at what cost? Here I am in the middle of this marathon point and I am thinking...I fought to get even...but it took all of my energy to get here. Maybe I just throw this point and take the twenty seconds or so to fetch a ball from the back of the court. I neutralized the point...but at what cost?

I didn't have the energy to get on top of it...to be aggressive enough to go on the attack. Like a punched out boxer wobbling on my legs...I pondered whether to throw the point or to try and outlast my younger, stronger, faster and more motivated opponent. I hung in there. I made the decision to hang on...to win at all costs. But I lost it. Exhaustion. I couldn't do it. But I won something. If only on the inside. I'm no loser. I finished out the game until the lights went out. "Thank God", I said. My partner laughed...he too was completely punched out. We shook hands...warmly.

I took a hot shower...and waited in my office for my lesson to show up. The two handed forehand lesson. Where was I going to find the energy? Deep down inside...that's where. These are lessons that I learned long ago. Winning and losing. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. But you never...I repeat never have to be a loser. You lift up your head...you keep your head in the game.

[don_budge]

Page 4...time to bring me back

This thread had regressed to page 4. Time to come back. Back to consciousness. Traditional Thoughts...not to be confused with Conventional Thoughts.

I have crossed the threshold of 1.00 posts a day. After skipping 465 days from the day that I joined to my first post. I never even knew that I was don_budge for 465 days. It was milestone for me...I have been looking at it for some time. Never consciously posting for numbers...only for content. 1,445 posts later as of this one.

I am at 1.02 posts a day. I wonder if I can reach 2.00...without posting for numbers. I wonder if I can live to be a million! God bless everyone...and have a super day!

for clarity's sake...

[don_budge]

Stevie Wonder's Innervisions...Misstra Know It All

My mother's maiden name was Wonder's. I could have been...oh never mind.

Live...I just love the people in this one. Sister's singing backup vocals. So cool...I love this song. The drummer reminds me of my old best friend...Winston. He was about 6' 8". Cool as can be. HFCC 1972. He took me under his wing...down to the hood. To play ball with the brothers. I quit the tennis team that year...to hang out. Detroit...just like I pictured it. Dum bum bum ba bum bum. Oou...oou...oou oou...oou...You know damn well he's got the super plan.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7wx9RuI4rRY

or the studio version...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EwPsFz85gGw

Misstra Know It All...Stevie Wonder

He's a man
With a plan
Got a counterfeit dollar in his hand
He's Misstra Know-It-All

Playin' hard
Talkin' fast
Makin' sure that he won't be the last
He's Misstra Know-It-All

Makes a deal
With a smile
Knowin' all the time that his lie's a mile
He's Misstra Know-It-All

Must be seen
There's no doubt
He's the coolest one with the biggest mouth
He's Misstra Know-It-All

If you tell him he's livin' fast
He will say what do you know
If you had my kind of cash
You'd have more than one place to go oh

Oou...oou...oou oou...oou...

Any place
He will play
His only concern is how much you'll pay
He's Misstra Know-It-All

If he shakes
On a bet
He's the kind of dude that won't pay his debt
He's Misstra Know-It-All

When you say that he's living wrong
He'll tell you he knows he's livin' right
And you'd be a stronger man
if you took Misstra Know-It- All's advice oh oh

Oou...oou...oou oou...oou...

He's a man
With a plan
Got a counterfeit dollar in his hand
He's Misstra Know-It-All

Take my work
Please beware
Of a man that just don't give a care no
He's Misstra Know-It-All (Look out he's coming)

Dum bum bum ba bum bum,
Dum bum bum ba bum bum
Bum bum bum bum bum Say
He's Misstra Know-It-All

Can this line
Take his hand
Take your hat off to the man who's got the plan
He's Misstra Know-It-All

Every boy take your hand
To the man that's got the plan
He's Misstra Know-It-All

Give a hand to the man
Don't you know darn well he's got the super plan
He's Misstra Know-It-All

Give a hand to the man
You know damn well he's got the super plan
He's Misstra Know-It-All

If we had less of him
Don't you know we'd have a better land
He's Misstra Know-It-All

So give a hand to the man
Although you've given out as much as you can
He's Misstra Know-It-All

Check his sound out
He'll tell it all
Hey
You talk too much you worry me to death
He's Misstra Know-It-All

[don_budge]

Retorded Shoulder Servers...Yoga stretch for shoulders

The older I get...the smarter I get.

Here is a shoulder stretch that I have been doing with Esther...not Escher. But at any rate...if you elect to try this you will definitely want to pay close attention to your limits as attempting to do these exercises without listening to your body will be foolish.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppToA1N0CgE

As Esther recommends I have been doing these exercises for about three weeks now with some nice benefits. Better posture being one of them...increased flexibility and strength in my shoulders being another. Better posture has a good influence on the appearance of your chest...if you know what I mean.

Proceed with caution and the attitude that Rome wasn't built in a day.

[don_budge]

In the Middle of the Night...To Pee or not to Pee.

Last night I woke up in the middle of the night. Out in the middle of nowhere...Frankie the American born chocolate labrador retriever deemed a nature call and as usual I decided to join him. There is something spiritually redeeming about getting up and going out into the darkness, barefoot and naked under the stars and the moon...to relieve oneself. A certain passion for freedom. A disdain for convention. A complete disregard for what others think. Piss on it. War Plans! The feel of the damp blades of grass under my feet. Frankie sniffing here...sniffing there. I hear him in the darkness...my beloved canine. Ever connected...to the master plan! Nature calls.

President Oblabla...I hate war. Play tennis...not war. To bomb or not to bomb? That's an easy one...isn't it? For a Nobel Peace Prize winner? In the middle of the night...a no brainer. Of course it is a most unfortunate incident...but fortunately it is none of my business. It never has been. Let's be sensible and sit this one out. Is it too much to ask? Of civilized man. Here in Sweden nobody is contemplating attacking anybody for any reason...in the middle of the night. Perhaps it is a bit more difficult to make peace...and not war.

So it is...returning from a nocturnal mission. I pass the little office on the right at the top of the stairs...foregoing the bedroom a meter further on. The computer with all of it's mystical allure draws me to her. Tennisplayer.net is calling my name. When I wake up in the middle of the night...many times I cannot resist looking on. To see what you guys are up to in the middle of the night. The Americans. How long will you put up with it? But of course it is not the middle of the night there. It's broad daylight. There is absolutely no excuse for not being able to see. The obvious.

Wake up! Just say no! He will be taking to the television...just stick your head out the window and shout at the top of your lungs...I am mad as hell and I am not going to take it anymore!!!

[lobndropshot]

It took its toll on him today...I won 4 games out of 7. What great fun it was...pretending to be a tennisplayer again. Getting him to chase the ball forwards is my strategy and anytime that I can I just love to send him sprinting back towards the baseline chasing a lob over his head. Drop shot and lob technique. Do this a couple of times to your opponent and you will see the discouragement etched on their face. Imagine that!

OOOOOOOOoooo yeah! Lobndropshot AKA the yoyo!

[tennis_chiro]

Doubles...old style.

http://www.britishpathe.com/video/fr...ionship-finals

Fabulous. But remember, Hoad and Rosewall were just 19 and 20 years old.

don

[stotty]

Hoad, Rosewall...

Doubles...old style.

http://www.britishpathe.com/video/french-international-tennis-championship-finals

[don_budge]

Underspin...

Finally, I think, a recreational player should put first interest in recreational tennis and relegate tour tennis for once to its proper place.

Well I cannot claim to have vanquished any 4.5 level players lately. But today I had some very interesting practice outdoors for the second time on the clay...the red clay of Sweden. The weather here finally turned...it has been a very cold spring. I love cold weather.

My message goes out as usual to anyone that wants to listen...hacks, losers or tour professionals. It is only food for thought and I would never think of asking whether or not anyone agrees or not. In fact in all of my 1,119 posts I have never said...I agree with you, or I disagree with you. I have never said "in my opinion"...except one time when I was joking I said "in my humble opinion". That is simply not the point of this forum...at least I don't think that it is. The point is to discuss...or rather to put your view out there as clearly and in any style that you choose...for others to ponder. It is never my intention to ruffle feathers...maybe just a bit of irony perhaps. It's allowed.

My practice partner is named Mats and he is 35 years old. I would say that he is at least two inches taller than my 6' 1"'s and needless to say his is 24 years younger. He is in pretty darned good shape too...he goes to the gym and plays several times a week. He told me that he used to be one of the elite juniors in Sweden and by that I took it to be top 50 or so....he certainly had accumulated enough points to win some pretty good level championships.

He has a huge ATP forehand (not certain if it is a 1 or a 2 or a 3...or exactly version it is) but he crushes it. He hit the lines so hard a couple of times today that I swear they were pounded into the ground and a bit more stable after his play. Mats likes to play a lot of topspin off of the backhand as well. We practice in a format where we start the rally off with a groundstroke. Usually the first shot is to the forehand but as the practice session progresses the first ball is usually played just a little less kindly than in the beginning of the session. We tend to get a little competitive...and aggressive off of the forehand. More and more the ball seems to gravitate to the backhand with the first ball.

So when Mats hits to my backhand, most of the time the ball is going to be a slice to his backhand and in this way I try to dictate the tempo of the game and slow it down so that my 59 year old legs don't lose the match for me. He destroyed me the first two games to 15...but I was working on him with what amounts to a bit of a rope a dope. My slices gradually started to turn into balls that I was cutting the bottom of the ball and the ball actually backs up on his side of the court which sort of neutralizes his huge top spin if he is in less than optimal position. Many times my severely sliced backhands are out right winners. Mixed in with this little devil, I can hit a very acute angled soft drop shot to the forehand which again completely neutralizes his ATP cannon. Another variation of my slice is low, short and wide to his forehand which again is very good at neutralizing his forehand...and yet another variation is deep into his forehand corner either driving or sort of lobbing deep. He seems to have more trouble generating his potential power and spin after I have worked on his head with all of the variations.

Keep in mind that the basis of this attack is the backhand down the line from me...ala John McEnroe as I am left handed. I can play it down the line in the same variety of ways with variation of depth, spin and speed. The key to the whole deal is consistency and placement. I rarely miss. He gets some short balls out of the deal that he absolutely eats up but all in all the strategy is one that I have used for my entire career.

The disguise of my backhand is also the other deal breaker...as I can hold off at the last split second before hitting the shot that I hit the bottom of the ball where it backs up...two balls came back over the net today. I love that when that happens. He was joking that I play ping pong tennis. My topspin forehand is 90 percent of the time trying to find his backhand or trying to make him play his forehand from as far as possible in his backhand corner...which leaves his entire forehand court open if I can reach his ATP cannon.

It took its toll on him today...I won 4 games out of 7. What great fun it was...pretending to be a tennisplayer again. Getting him to chase the ball forwards is my strategy and anytime that I can I just love to send him sprinting back towards the baseline chasing a lob over his head. Drop shot and lob technique. Do this a couple of times to your opponent and you will see the discouragement etched on their face. Imagine that!