Thoughts about Tennis Tradition...

[don_budge]

Walking down a country road...in the fog.

I started out down our 400 meter driveway to the dirt road. On the way...at the end of our driveway I stopped to talk with our new neighbor for the first time. They have been here nearly a month now. Her two large dogs stood against the fence barking at me...getting to know me. The dog whisperer...part wolf myself. I asked what their names were first...Ozzie and Archie. A white male shepherd and a black mix. Her name is Olga...she has immigrated from Russia five years ago. The land of Dostoyevsky. She and her husband met on match.com. She is already deep into a landscaping project. This woman will transform this property from the ordinary to House and Garden. Mark my words. What else is new?

It's foggy out. I start out down the dirt road after a five minute conversation. I work on Mark's training and conditioning program...part one. Lunges, Superman on one leg, knee to chest...the whole shebang. I am not going down without a struggle. Mark my words...again. The fog. Steering me down the lonely road. A car passes which I hear long before it reaches me. I creep into the forest behind a tree. I am invisible and wish to remain anonymous...wishing to be one with the universe.

The fog treats me to a hallucination. It treats me like a hallucination. I said to her...perhaps the dream is dreaming us. Looking closely from my lunge position it appears to be made up of millions of little tiny particles. Maybe billions. Suddenly I am part fog...part human. Misty homo sapien. Erect at any rate...and permeable for the time being. Blending into fog. Morphing into the barest speck of precipitation. From my tiny perspective it appears to me that I am enveloped in a membrane...it always appears to be several meters in front of me. The uterus of Mother Earth. But it could be light years for all that I know. It looks like the surface of the moon...complete with craters the size of pinheads. As I advance it retreats. I am in a bubble. Moving forward. Stretching and balancing. Repairing a hip with care and love...as it eroded during the eons of time. The rest of it too. My mind deserves this break from civilization...from "reality".

There is a fork in the road...and one of the forks is busier than the other. Which doesn't mean much...what is the difference between two cars an hour or none. So I take the other. The one less traveled. Decreasing the risk of contamination. From the world. The sounds of silence permeate my membrane which is still retreating into the mist in front of me. But slowly...ever so slowly the fog dissipates to reveal a glorious day. Not a cloud in the sky and the nuclear sun blinding in brightness...what is the color of infinite blue? Just like the Swedish flag...the sky blue background and the yellow cross. The sky and the sun. Legend has it that the king on the morning of a huge important battle saw a morning such as this and took it to be a sign. Vikings saw signs too. Just like the Indians. We should all see signs...and know their meanings. The king took it to be a sign that he would be victorious. And he was. I take it to be a sign. Another day locked securely in the gold mine...of my mind.

The sun destroys the membrane around me and reality seeps in once again. My mind drifts to tennisplayer.net...I am thinking that I should include the John Yandel music video of John McEnroe and Ivan Lendl together with my previous musings about volleys...about the sublime world of tennis. Waking up now...I think of her. I think of the fog that disappeared with the sun.

[don_budge]

Is that all there is? Read 'em and weep...

Without the Federer Express...is that all there is? Djokovic and Murray? Not very interesting. I enjoy a good spirited discussion about tennis but if all that there is to talk about is these two. Good night she said. Sleep well. Let's just hope that Nadal makes it back. Roger's time is limited at this point...it is too late to think that a new racquet might turn back the hands of time.

Somehow I get the impression that Djokovic is the better player of these two. As tennis_chiro notes there is nobody that can change the direction of the tennis ball as the Serb. His down the line backhand is his knockout punch but he was robbed of that weapon in the finals and I am not certain that it was Murray that lifted it from him. That winning streak that he put together last year could not be duplicated by Murray. Djokovic seems to have lost something in the later stages of the tournament lately...at least at Wimbledon and this years U. S. Open...possibly due to other factors other than his lack of ability to rise to the occasion. If I am not mistaken he was injured for the finals somehow and what we saw was not the hundred percent Serb that he potentially is. The same thing happened at Wimbledon...he was not a hundred percent and with the modern game being played at the speed of light if you are the least bit gimpy against the top players...you are toast.

Djokovic at the French was quite a different story as I am convinced he had Nadal in his sights and on the ropes but the Spaniard was saved by the rain. Even so, Djokovic is not at the level that he was during his streak and for me the question remains...why not?

But if this is all there is without Federer and Nadal...read 'em and weep. Tennis will have reached its lowest level in terms of entertainment value since I can ever remember. So far at least there has been Roger Federer to make things interesting but if he is singing his swan song...hold on to your pillows, it is going to be a snoozer. I didn't bother to watch the finals between these two and caught the fifth set in the middle of the night here in Sweden due only to a nature call...plus Frankie wanted to go out. The tennis is dull and unimaginative and so are the players. I am not the only one saying so. The general viewing public concurs and the tennis authorities are left to ponder...what have we done to our sport? They are consulting the tennis engineers for another fix to a game that was never broken until they started to tinker with it. One thing is for certain it is still "The Big Four" and the rest of the pack is lagging behind and as Stotty observes...who is going to fill the void?

When I first started posting on the forum here last year I started a post that posed the question...Is the economy having any effect on the level of participation? I think it is time to admit that it is. The other thing is that young people have been consumed by a wave of electronic gadgetry and gizmos that has "virtually" changed the landscape of youngdom. If tennis could be played by only using your thumbs in the comfort of your living room there would probably be a tidal wave of participation. Where are the studies and research papers that are quantifying the effects in this change of lifestyle for the human species and what effects it is having on our youth? Maybe the Phd's are too busy writing about other things and cannot be bothered with such trivial matters. Houston...we have a problem.

Mats Wilander came out the other day as being quoted in the Swedish newspapers that the Swedish youth are too fat and lazy to drag their ass around the tennis court. And of course the parents jumped up off of their fat lazy asses to leap down his throat for even suggesting such a thing about their little darlings. While he may have a point...the question is how did that come to be? Has everyone been lulled to sleep? Is it so difficult to understand? I was looking the the University of Kentucky tennis program the other day online and it seems that all that they have playing on their roster are foreign players. Aren't the American tennis players hungry enough to compete or are they too hungry? Everything is changing, isn't it? Where is it heading? What happened?

What are we left with? Obama vs. Romney? You call that an election? You call that a choice? That is about as much choice as McCain vs. Obama in the previous election...or Murray or Djokovic in the U. S. Open final. Hope and change was the winner's platform. McCain was singing, "bomb, bomb, bomb Iran" to an old Beach Boys tune. So much for that. What is it going to be this year? Breath in, breath out...resuscitate. Whatever happened to "government for the people, by the people"? Forget about it...we are consumed by sound bytes. Read 'em and weep...but just remember don't shoot the messenger.

[bottle]

I did it. I went to Google Translation. The process was ridiculously simple and quick and well worth doing. Such a good idea, Steve. People working a little for something carves a more indelible impression. No less a person than Kati Lomb has said so. She is/was one of the foremost experts on the planet on the subject of learning new languages, and tennis always will remain a stimulating new language if people just will let it. What a sport and more than a sport!

I've had about two letters like this in my entire life, and I lost them both-- what a dope! One started off with a "To whom it may concern..." I've had a lot of jobs but would have had more if I kept that letter, i.e., didn't lose it as I bopped from one reality to another.

The famous writer Jumpa Lahiri, Indian living in the United States, recently evaluated all great beginning sentences in fiction for the New York Times. She concluded that they shared an "unguarded quality." Perhaps that idea could be extended to sentences number fifty-three and eighty-four as well.

I enjoyed so much the unguarded and unembarrassed nature of Gustaf's splendid letter. The men's and women's finals of the 2012 U.S. Open both demonstrated that the tennis player who becomes overly careful (or casually negligent) in a close match will lose.

[don_budge]

Connectivity continued...transcending language, culture and age.

Ralph...that comment that you picked up in Orlando makes things really interesting if you give it a bit of thought from the tennis coaching as a life time experience for the student and the teacher.

Give your student that feeling that he is connected to everything on the tennis court...give him that feeling that he can connect to every single different circumstance and possibility without feeling out of sorts. If you can do that you have accomplished a mission in life that few will ever know. Give him that same level of comfort as he goes through the motions of everyday life in the modern world...it's the key to the "universe"...which Springsteen claims to have found himself, "I swear I found the key to the universe in the engine of an old parked car"...from "Growin' Up" in "Greetings from Asbury Park". The key to Bruce's universe, that is.

This is what one of my favorite students wrote about me and it gives me the feeling that we have connected on some other plane other than the everyday nonsense that is usually going on between two people. Use google translation to get the main drift in English.:

Min Upplevelse med Steve Navarro

Nedanstående dokument syftar till att beskriva samt förklara hur min upplevelse med Steve som tränare har varit.

Jag har haft Steve som tennistränare sedan ganska många år tillbaka i denna stund och jag må säga så här på rak arm att jag inte upplevt några direkta problem, varken med honom som person eller hans sätt att lära ut tennis på! Visst ska medges att vi vid ett fåtal tillfällen haft olika syn på saker och ting gällande min tennis och hur vi ska gå vidare för att uppnå bästa möjliga resultat. Dock har jag litat på hans enorma kunskap inom spelet tennis. Han har själv uttryckt det ibland som, ”Jag är äldre än dig och har mycket större erfarenhet av detta, tror du inte jag vet jag pratar om?” och det är en fras som har lett mig och inte minst min tennis vidare många gånger.

Jag tror aldrig min tennis hade varit på den nivån den är i dagsläget om jag inte haft Steve vid min sida och då pratar jag inte bara utifrån att han har en stor kunskap och erfarenhet inom sporten, utan även utifrån hans engagemang för min tennis. Jag har aldrig haft en tränare och skulle nog inte heller kunna drömma om en mer trogen och engagerad tränare. Som exempel kan jag bara tänka tillbaka på alla de gånger han varit med mig på turneringar – och de är åtskilliga ska nämnas – eller alla de seriespelsmatcher han har varit där, oavsett hur intressanta, roliga eller tråkiga de varit. Han har varit där och supportat och hjälp både mig och alla andra i laget framåt. Steve kan se detaljer där andra bara ser en helhet och inte nog med det, han gör något åt att förbättra alla de brister som en icke färdig tennisspelares spel uppvisar. Han har ett stort tålamod vilket jag ser som något enormt viktigt för en tennistränare.

För att nämna något om de språkliga och i vissa delar kanske kulturella skillnader med tanke på Steves bakgrund, så är det inget som har påverkat mer än i en positiv riktning! Visst, då jag började träna med Steve gjorde jag detta då jag gick i åttan på högstadiet och engelskan var varken mitt favoritämne, inte heller något jag var särskilt bra på… Men hans förmåga att göra sig förstådd, även för den mindre engelskspråkiga personen, gjorde att det aldrig uppstod några problem vad gällde att förstå vad han menade och ville få fram. Allteftersom tiden har gått har den engelska kommunikationen bara ökat mitt intresse för det engelska språket samt givetvis gjort mig mycket säkrare på att uttrycka mig på engelska. I nuläget ser jag det bara som en jättestor bonus att han är engelskspråkig och kommer med en ny synvinkel i många frågor.

Steve har inte bara hjälpt mig framåt på tennisplanen, utan även guidat mig genom vissa livsfrågor. Man skulle nästintill kunna påstå att han varit som en andra pappa för mig. Jag skulle kunna fortsätta om alla mina minnen och upplevelser med Steve Navarro, men jag tror det redan räcker vid det här laget!

Sammanfattningsvis kan jag bara säga att Steve har precis all det man kan önska sig av en tennistränare och jag har inte träffat många som är så pass välvilliga, hjälpsamma och sympatiska som Steve. Visst har han väl sina idéer och sitt sätt att se på saker, men för mig ar vi fungerat underbart bra ihop och det han sagt till mig vid upprepande tillfällen, då saker och ting inte varit så lätta, nämligen, ”Har jag någonsin lett dig in på fel spår…?” stämmer helt och hållet. Allt jag kan säga hitintills är helt enkelt, nej han har inte lett mig fel vid något tillfälle! Jag har vi några tillfällen önskat att jag fått honom som tränare bara några år tidigare…

Tack Steve för allt du givit till mig under åren!


//Gustaf Adolfsson

Skövde
2012-08-30

Gustaf and I have connected and as I wrote back to him...if you think about it we have transcended the language, culture and age to get to this point.


Gustaf...

Thank you my young friend. You and I have accomplished something that so few people will ever know. We understand each other. That is testimony to yourself as well as me. Your ability to express yourself confirms what I believe in you. I have watched you grow up from a boy to a young man. I am impressed and you know that I don't say anything like that unless I mean it. You will see that in the future I will always be there for you. Even if I am not physically around, even if I am dead and gone. I will be there. Watching over you.

Steve

[don_budge]

"The universe...and everything in it." Al Pacino in Scarface.

I just loved that post don_budge.

One with the universe?

In a pivotal scene in the All American classic "Scarface", Tony Montanno (Al Pacino) makes a statement to his sidekick Manny (Steven Bauer) about what he wants in life. He says something to the effect..."I just want whats mine. What's mine? The world (the universe) and everything in it." He's gazing at the lovely Michelle Pfeiffer and smoking a big stogie as he utters his remark...with his guttural Cuban accent.

Of course when making a statement like "being one with the universe" you are biting off more than you can chew even though I suppose that I meant universe as in metaphorically speaking. But then again...there are those that think on such a grandiose scale as to think that they can harmonically exist as in being "one with the universe". Shamans, monks, ecstatics and other enlightened beings. Even so...I wonder about their human sides.

The universe means something different for everyone and everything for that matter. To an ant, for example, the universe might consist of his or her ant hill and the colony of his fellow ants. We are all connected he thinks to himself as he goes about his daily travails.

Which brings us to us human beings and our universe. Native Americans have some really interesting instinctual feelings for their belonging to their family, their tribe, their civilization, their world, to the other world beyond our world. To the universe at large. When I sit alone in the forest...I get this feeling about belonging and can feel the sympathy of the nature that surrounds me. Have you ever talked to a tree? I can also feel the unforgiving nature of things...particularly when I am around other people.

But yes...connectivity is bringing it all together. So what about tennis players? What does it mean if they lack connectivity? What does it mean if they have it?

If they lack connectivity nothing feels natural and between the lines that are universal to our world as tennis players and coaches and teachers, the metaphysical and mysterious lines that make up a tennis court...such a player will never feel comfortable and he will never feel that the way that he moves about the court is instinctual and natural. He is not one with what it takes to survive in the food chain of competitive tennis. His dance with the ball is going to result in his stepping all over the toes of his partner and he will never get that little pill to behave in the manner that his mind envisions it. Such is life!

On the other end of the spectrum we have Roger Federer, for example, and he can wake up in the middle of the night from a comatose sleep, pick up his tennis racquet and immediately start repeatedly drilling forehand and backhand volleys into the wall of his hotel room with perfect form and repeatable motions to the same exact spot almost infinitely. Such is his connectivity. On the other hand of the spectrum...he faces his opponent in front of thousands of screaming maniacs and with complete and utter control he is in a world all of his own because he is connected to everything that matters at that pivotal instant.

He exudes a calmness and a level of comfort like no other presently in the mix. The point in front of his nose becomes the center of the universe. The pinprick point in front of the Federer nose becomes the epicenter of the infinite. He is one with the universe. His universe. He feels like he belongs. Just like the ant in the colony. Like an Indian in the woods. Native Americans might just tell you that neither is more "important" than the other. He can dance the tango with the tennis ball without ever missing a step. Probably cha cha, salsa and the rest of it as well. He could play tennis in a tutu and not look out of place...he is so well connected. Well maybe that last comment is going a bit far. But you get my drift.

Have you ever played in "the zone"? That just may be as close as you will get to feeling that you are one with the universe. Or maybe...just maybe you will have a lucid moment now and again when you can say to yourself that....everything is as it should be. You have in all likelihood probably had a glass of wine or two or smoked something exotic. Maybe both. You will probably be in a place that is relatively unattached to the modern way of life...of thinking. There probably is nobody immediately around you. Quiet time. That moment will in all probability be fleeting...and you will come hurtling back to earth ass over tea kettle at the speed of light.

Thanks Stotty...you made me feel one with my universe for a fleeting moment with your "I just loved that post don_budge" and thank you John...you brought me back down to earth and made me think as to just what it was that I meant with that line. I guess in the future you will just understand that one must be careful when you ask good old don_budge a question. The results are rather unpredictable and may just boomerang into the unknown...the infinite.

[don_budge]

Connectivity...oh what a feeling! "And yes everything is connected!"- John Yandel

Pardon me again...I wanted to move this post from "Have any questions for me" to "Traditional Thoughts". Perhaps not so traditional...eh what?

John,
Every March I take my team to Orlando where my players do a drill session with a pro who runs a few programs. He mentioned to me that one of my players needed more connectivity. It is the first time that I had heard the term. If I understand it correctly, connectivity starts with a unit turn making sure that you keep two hands on the racquet in reference to the forehand. It seems to me that one of the great benefits of the two-handed backhand is that you have to stay connected during the swing and that's why the two hander frequently end ups being a more consistent stroke. Are you familiar with the term and do you have any thoughts about this concept?

Ralph

Excuse me Ralph and John...regarding connectivity. I really like that term. Connectivity gives me the feeling of being engaged from the start to finish. Engaged with the past, present and the future.

Recently the wife and I acquired a used Toyota Land Cruiser. The previous owner drove the car to us from the south of Sweden and we met at a Toyota dealership to make the transaction. I took the car for a test drive of 200 meters and the guy said that it was the shortest test drive he ever saw. The reason...once I started that car and put it in reverse to back up and then proceeded to drive the car...I felt connected from the very beginning and never lost that engaged feeling since I have owned that car. This is going on a couple of weeks now. I have never had this feeling about a car before.

A while back we were sending our champion mare off to the trainer's to have her inseminated and to compete in a couple of shows. At the Swedish Nationals she ran the table...Best in Show, Best Swedish Bred Mare, Highest points in the show, Gold Champion or the Best Mare in the entire show and she was class winner in her mare class. I had to lead her some 400 meters down to the road where the transport was coming to meet her. This horse is something special...when you are leading her you feel a connection between her and yourself. You know and you can feel that on the other end of that leash is something special...so powerful and so full of passionate life yet a degree of control that you can have it and control it in your fingertips. Much like driving that Land Cruiser.

Roger Federer in all of his beautiful and fluid movement around the court exhibits this kind of connectivity. He blends from his start position through his unit turn that effortlessly morphs into the backswing before it seamlessly becomes the forward swing and finish. Nothing forced...just a totally engaged effort from head to toe. No comma's or period's...just the three dots...that represent connectivity! Connectivity...I love that word and concept. "The Man" is connected. Are you? Am I? Is the student?

Then there is love...and supposedly love means nothing to a tennis player. But to know someone that you are connected with means a total engagement of the body, heart and soul. Have you ever known a "soul mate"? Where all of your feelings and emotions are seamlessly connected and engaged. Like a fine tuned motor...like the trees in the forest. Are you connected to your lover?

Much like playing tennis...passionately. Or dancing the Tango. It is a natural function of life...the life within you and the life that surrounds you. Being one with the universe is to be connected. Responses are effortless and thoughtless...they require nothing but an instinct. Like the words rolling off your tongue as a poet lives his life.

[don_budge]

I listen to the Wind...

The Wind...

I listen to the wind
To the wind of my soul
Where I'll end up well I think,
Only God really knows
I've sat upon the setting sun
But never, never never never
I never wanted water once
No, never, never, never

I listen to my words but
They fall far below
I let my music take me where
My heart wants to go
I swam upon the devil's lake
But never, never never never
I'll never make the same mistake
No, never, never, never

And I am listening to the posters at the tennisplayer.net forum. They are talking about the wind and how it influenced the title match...the trophy match at the 2012 U. S. Open Tennis Championships. I don't know. It's possible. I think that Roger Federer defeated Novak Djokovic in the semifinals of the French Open last year on a windy day. Does that mean that Djokovic is not a good wind player? Playing tennis in the wind makes it another game. We are all just kites in the wind. I believe that the wind can be a great equalizer but on the other hand, better players seem to adapt to adverse conditions more easily. Was the wind a factor? The answer is obviously no...the wind blows on both sides of the court.

It all comes down to the art of winning...and the "other" factors. It is all connected in the end. One thing is connected to another...like three consecutive dots. Everything is connected...so said John Yandell in "Have a Question for Me". A bold statement for an old theology student...or not. But anyways I think that Andy Murray won that match because he basically understood something about the Djokovic game that perhaps the rest of the field does not or it they do understand it, they do not have the proper combination of understanding and technique to implement a successful strategy against him.

Murray understands that in order to beat Djokovic you must first manage him on the backhand side of the court. Even though his forehand might technically be a bit superior to his backhand the beauty of the Djokovic game is that his weaker side is going to beat you more often than not if you don't understand what it is that you must do to neutralize it. Murray neutralized it in a number of ways but mostly he changes speed and spin and depth. Murray tries to take away the winner down the line from the Djokovic arsenal which is such a lethal stroke for him. These have been the classic variations to break down a stroke since the beginning of time and when I first started to play tennis. It is ancient history and therefore discarded in modern times because it is "obsolete" if it isn't attached to an iPhone or an iPad. Modern tennis is played relentlessly with power and so little thoughtfulness. Pound, pound and pound some more. I've been working on the railroad...all the live long day!

Andy Murray also used the wind in his tactical maneuvering of Djokovic. You see...I get the distinct impression that Murray hits many balls with the objective being to put his opponent slightly off balance with his guile and not necessarily with brute power alone. Djokovic on the other hand seems to be more obsessed with brute power therefore he may find himself at the mercy of a tactful player such as Federer or Murray on any given day. Such as a day that he is not particularly one hundred percent as the semifinals at Wimbledon this year when he had a bit of a cold or last night at Flushing Meadows when the wind was blowing and he may of been somewhat hampered by a plethora of injuries. The injuries are another story...the medical timeout was inexcusable from a historical point of view at the end of the match when he purposely stalled Murray when he was serving for the match. Such an obvious gamesmanship ploy...it never would of flown fifty years ago. You see how marvelous it is in modern times...everything is being rewritten in terms of right and wrong. Virtual morality (my word, I coined it).

Whether or not Murray won the match or Djokovic did is of no consequence to me. I don't feel any admiration for either of those two in terms of their imagination, their class or their general overall whatever it is that they do in life. The tennis is in general very boring in my opinion. Last night I woke up at two-thirty in the morning here in Sweden and wandered downstairs with my dog to watch the fifth set which was just beginning as I answered my call to nature. My dog Frankie immediately fell asleep on the couch next to me...he wasn't very interested either. The fifth set was a snoozer with only a couple of interesting side notes that probably only I was aware of. Things like the participants girlfriends, Murray's mother...stupid things like the bad haircut that Murray sports, his white socks with blue shoes. You get the picture.

The wind? I listen to the wind...to the wind of my soul. Where I end up...well I think that only God really knows. Today the wife and I went to a seminar about working in Norway or in other countries in Europe. What if? Only God really knows?

[don_budge]

Back at you....

That's what I love about you!!!

[stotty]

Big Bill

I shall set about trying to locate a copy to read...as I said, "I am willing to stand corrected"

[don_budge]

The Author is Tilden...your attitude is Orwellian.

For me, leave Tilden out any serious discussion about tennis. We have little to compare him with.

I haven't read Tilden tennis books but one imagines they must be archaic. I am willing to stand corrected but cannot seem to find one to read! If someone can scan an excerpt or two and post them in this thread, I would love to pass judgement.

Come on Stotty...don't be so lazy! Have a look in "Teaching Systems" here on the forum. There are seven articles...not the best of Tilden by any means but it will give you a little food for thought. To leave Tilden out of ANY discussion about tennis is preposterous.

http://essentialtennis.com/tournews/2010/01/book-review-how-to-play-better-tennis-by-bill-tilden/

This is a review for "How to Play Better Tennis...A Complete guide to Technique and Tactics" and it was "Match Play and Spin of the Ball" that Hopman and the Aussies considered to be "The Bible" back in their heyday. Either of these books can easily be obtained online. They are a must read for anyone that imagines themselves to be a tennis coach. You cannot truly begin an intelligent and balanced discussion about tennis without studying both. The truth and the tennis wisdom with which Tilden expounds upon is timeless and profound. While it is true that times and things have changed, you may be surprised how they have in some respects remained the same.

There is, of course, no such thing as a be-all and end-all on the vast subject of tennis knowledge but one must have a foundation upon which to build. A coach must have a rock solid foundation upon which to build. Knowledge is old in general...only the information technology is new. What we have today is rapidly turning into a "virtual reality" and the unsuspecting are walking unwittingly into a new world order of "virtual morality" (my word, my original concept...you heard it first on tennisplayer.net) of which no one is entirely certain as to what this exactly looks like. To automatically reject something as traditional as knowledge without even having had a look at it is a symptom of a new and frightening morality.

You are like a character straight out of Orwell's "1984" where everyone is trained to scoff at the teachings of the past and in fact the establishment sets about erasing the past just so they can guarantee that their take on the present does not have any competition. Orwell was a Brit who knew what was coming down the pipe. Have you read that book? If not...read it immediately before the Tilden books. It is more important than tennis.

[don_budge]

The Dance of Life...Tango on Brothers!

tradi’tion n. body of beliefs, facts, etc., handed down to generation to generation without being reduced to writing; the process of handing down.

I realize most people think such behavior is nuts and you’d do better hitting or playing with someone or working with a ball machine.

No you wouldn’t. The best you can do is a lonely court with no one around and a million balls to hit, just from a stop, if you want to think more than usual and value your own new ideas. Alternatively, you could take a shower.

A bunch of people brainstorming wouldn’t do better, it turns out. Frequently, the people in large brainstorming groups become even less creative than they already were, according to various studies. So hooray for us recluses. Or better, just be open-minded about each and every solitary experiment. Sometimes that means being very critical about it.

But I can’t see how anything that improves balance: tai chi, yoga, dance classes, etc., can ever be bad for tennis.

Well I for one do not think you are nuts. A lonely court and a million balls to hit...what is it my friend? Do you long for the call of the wild? A lonely court and a million balls to hit...reminds me of the old fictitious scenario that dictates that if you put enough monkeys in a room with enough typewriters that sooner or later one of them will type out the King James version of the Bible. You will get it right bottle...in fact, you already have it right. Make the effort...that’s the ticket. Your soul is telling me that you should of taken up golf a while back. It's never too late. My dear old coach, Sherman Collins told me one time in the past several years that he had this idea of hitting tennis balls from a stationary position and used this on his students to help them to generate a concept of where it all is coming from...the energy that is. Isn't funny how we as humans have found that taking a shower is one of the most redeeming moments in life? As if we could wash the sins off of our souls. I am at the point where less is better or as bottle puts it I would rather think more than usual, if you know what I mean. Might as well get comfortable with the dirt...the residue of life.

My, my, my...and now a big hurray for us recluses. A man after my own soul. I heard some author once write that "no man is an island". Well I say that every man is an island. Why else are we wandering around just praying that we will meet someone who will understand us? Tai chi, yoga, dance classes for tennis balance...yes, yes and what is more...life's balance...but the metaphor is there. Swinging from a balanced position in tennis or living life in a balanced position. Maybe just maybe this is why that I claim that tennis and golf are God's gift to mankind in terms of recreation. Life can be a real balancing act at times...there are certain moments when it is all hanging in the balance and we cling desperately for equilibrium...something to believe in. Djokovic and Nadal bared their souls to us the other night. Sometimes even we bare our souls...to a loved one for instance. Yes of course it is all "A Question of Balance" (The Moody Blues). Today I will go out into the forest and think to myself..."hurray for us recluses", no need to shout where nobody will here you. Come to think of it you could shout something like that in a crowd of people and nobody would really hear you. They might think you are crazy...but that's alright.

I know dear readers...what does this have to do with tennis? Why all of the philosophical psychobabble don_budge? Well there is a reason...a very good and valuable reason and this is one of the things that I am always attempting to sneak into my lessons. As bottle has danced around the question with his clever manipulation of words that paint little pictures in our minds, all of our activities are more or less a quest for balance. If you really care to go deep...it's about passion and understanding what love is and what is most important. In life...of course it is important to work and to earn a living but perhaps the most important is something a bit more symbolic, more ethereal than that. Take tennis for instance...it's a game isn't it, but do we really participate for fun or do we play for the illusion of the hunt? The passionate quest for love and understanding. Tennis players find the great paradox in this little riddle because they are dancing to the tune that love means nothing. Dance, bottle, dance...sway those hips, shuffle those feet and listen to the music. Don't think about it...go deep, let yourself slip even deeper into "The Journey to the End of the Night". Everybody try it...all together now. After all it's only one big boat. It is there that you will find the answers to the questions in the end. It is where few will dare to go. But be careful...it can get kind of lonely in there.

[don_budge]

Dawning is the Day...The Moody Blues

tradi’tion n. body of beliefs, facts, etc., handed down to generation to generation without being reduced to writing; the process of handing down.

One thing that has dawned on me over the past two weeks (I'm very slow to realise things but get there in the end) is that none of today's players know what to do once they find themselves at the net. They don't know how to "camp" over the net like, say, Nastase used to….or Gonzales….they have no idea how to cover the net. Today's players come to the net and stand there looking lost…in need of a guide dog. I worry approaching the net and volleying has become a game lost forever.... like some ancient lost language.

Well Stotty my boy...my friend. Here is something that dawned on me in 1976 or whenever it was that I encountered my first opponent with an oversized racquet. For me it was immediately clear, but for some it will take an eternity or they will never come to the realization...about reality. The gig was up. It was only a matter of time.

The game was fundamentally changed when there really was nothing wrong with it...except perhaps it was not generating enough money to satisfy the greed of the equipment manufacturers. Enter Howard Head. As I have said over and over...once you change the concept the dominoes will fall and this is what we are left with. The game today is all about speed and power, there is no denying it. Is that enough? Well it is for those that don't know any better...for those that are in denial that there was something more sublime, more artistic, something to render the souls of man in the old game. I suppose that since every individual feels that there is nothing they can do about it they submit...they go along to get along.

Many traditional things are going by the wayside these days and for the uninitiated they will slip away like a shadow into the twilight. Without a trace of evidence. Certainly one aspect of the tennis game that has gone the way of said shadows is the volley game and of course the approach game slid into the mulch pile with it. If you think this just some harmless side effect and you are apt to be complacent in accepting change as if it is all good...I feel sorry for you. Some things are worth fighting for in life...these are the things that you love with passion, all of your heart and would die for if push came to shove. Our children for instance. At least that feeling exists...literally speaking.

Funny that you mention a lost ancient language because you have only to look around you to see that books are becoming a thing of the past. Books are becoming lost in the modernization process. I suppose that is alright too...although I would never trade in the three years that I spent with my nose in the greatest literature of all time. It became my bridge from youth...to not so youthful. I didn't say old mind you. I read that the only thing that will survive in the end is video...this is sad testimonial.

My little story about the forest is rather metaphorical to most, as most modern day humans rarely see the inside of a forest or if they do, most likely they are on vacation or on a field trip. Some things will never change, that is until mankind succeeds in wiping out all of the trees. I spend a lot of time in the woods...a Thoreau wannabe perhaps, talking to the animals.

I am glad that you are complacent with the modern game but I for one say that they have gone too far. My immediate recommendation is to scale back the size of the racquets to 80 square inches for the pro's. You and I can continue to use the oversize to perpetuate the illusion we are still playing great tennis well past our primes. Me...my roots are in reality. I knew Don Budge when he was 57 years old. The same age as myself today. He was still hitting the ball so beautifully as I recall deep in the recesses of my memories...so sublime. I remember one moment, not so long ago where I was indulging myself a bit...virtual reality and morality style, I remember comparing my game to his and wondering how I might fare with him if our ages were equal. I had had a particularly good day playing my favorite game. But in the midst of my musing I looked down at my racquet and then I remembered fetching the old guy's racquet for him so that he might hit a few balls with me and I remembered the feel of the blunderbuss that he used...the 5' grip that was all wood and very heavy, no leather on the grip. That was in 1973 and everyone surely was using leather grips...but not "The Man", God bless his soul.

So go ahead and peer into the minds of man...but you are sort of wasting your efforts. Look deep into the soul for the reality of it all.

And thanks for the wonderful conversation, my friend.

btw...Dr. Julian, I only meant to say that I had Quixotic feelings...but who knows maybe I will change my sign on name to don_quixote. Which of course doesn't mean that I think of myself as Don Quixote anymore than I think of myself as Don Budge.

[stotty]

Nadal

tradi’tion n. body of beliefs, facts, etc., handed down to generation to generation without being reduced to writing; the process of handing down.



Stotty, Stotty...my boy, my friend. Oh please be so careful when throwing around comparisons like this. There is no solid ground for comparison. That was then and this is now. A different era...a different time...a different game altogether. You can hand it to the Spaniard if you want...he doesn't amuse me nor am I entertained by him. To me he is sort of a hallucination. An apparition. With him there is a huge question looming over his head and the question is...Steroids? PED's? Gamesmanship? You can probably lump them all in that question nowadays...such are the times. It's not only virtual reality...guess what? It's virtual morality time! Our sense of right and wrong has been significantly warped or altered by cyber space...a separate reality. Somehow the images on our television sets or in our computers are larger than life. It's beyond warped.

I agree it's difficult to make comparisons between players from different eras. The days of wooden rackets are long gone, along with the artistry that came with them. But I am justified in making comparisons of the human mind because minds can surely be compared throughout any era. I don't think the human mind changes over time like equipment does.

Borg and Gonzales were exceptional match players. Gonzales's feats are legendary. Borg's career is epitomised by Houdini escapes and an icy nerve. In their thrilling Wimbledon five set match, Borg was a set down to Mac and struggling like mad all through the second….yet somehow he hung on and took the set when the first break and set point turned up…just one chance…just one slip up from Mac, and he was in. That was Borg through and through…did things like that all through his career. Has anyone played a fifth set like Borg did in that match? I can think of no one.

Nadal is of the same mold. He has half the game of Fedrerer…as Borg had half the game of Mac. Nadal has one good shot, his forehand…he runs like mad…and is mentally very strong. That's it! What else has he? Over the best of three sets Federer has a good chance, but over the best of five sets he has virtually none. He simply cannot play well enough for long enough to put Nadal away. As soon as Federer's best level drops - as indeed it must over a long period - Nadal is in…their five set matches always ebb and flow like this…always.

Tactically you might be right about Federer. But I am not sure Federer's sliced backhand is as good as you think. I've watched him live a number of times at Wimbledon. He doesn't knife it like Rosewall or any of the wooden era guys used to. He can't make it shoot through like they did. On the other hand he did hit three squash-like sliced forehands when defending in the semi that did seem to rocket off the court surface…these inadvertently did put Nadal in a lot of trouble and he lost the point each time…so I can see your tactical logic if slice can be executed well enough. I am not sure Federer's backhand slice is telling enough to trouble Nadal, though.

I am not sure about all this steroids business. You're innocent until proven guilty in my book. But Nadal is the best match player of his era and one of the best ever. I am certain of that.

His gamesmanship is awful. I thoroughly dislike it. But it's the game itself that has to deal with that. I'd remove the right to bring a trainer on for a start. And one toilet break should suffice…no need for two. Let's enforce the 20 second rule…better still make it fifteen seconds. The game has the power to deal with Nadal and those like him…and it should.

Today's tennis is awesome. But at the same time it has never been so poor in some departments. The standard of volleying is woeful, and slice is a dying art. So, yes, I'm caught between two worlds and can only settle for appreciating the merits of both.

One thing that has dawned on me over the past two weeks (I'm very slow to realise things but get there in the end) is that none of today's players know what to do once they find themselves at the net. They don't know how to "camp" over the net like, say, Nastase used to….or Gonzales….they have no idea how to cover the net. Today's players come to the net and stand there looking lost…in need of a guide dog. I worry approaching the net and volleying has become a game lost forever.... like some ancient lost language.

[julian1]

The racket of Federer

tradi’tion n. body of beliefs, facts, etc., handed down to generation to generation without being reduced to writing; the process of handing down.



Stotty, Stotty...my boy, my friend. Oh please be so careful when throwing around comparisons like this. There is no solid ground for comparison. That was then and this is now. A different era...a different time...a different game altogether. You can hand it to the Spaniard if you want...he doesn't amuse me nor am I entertained by him. To me he is sort of a hallucination. An apparition. With him there is a huge question looming over his head and the question is...Steroids? PED's? Gamesmanship? You can probably lump them all in that question nowadays...such are the times. It's not only virtual reality...guess what? It's virtual morality time! Our sense of right and wrong has been significantly warped or altered by cyber space...a separate reality. Somehow the images on our television sets or in our computers are larger than life. It's beyond warped.



Well that is not going to happen sadly enough. Yes, it's true...I long for those days, even before Edberg's time. He too, was a product of the new game. But McEnroe...he was the real thing. He and Borg dueling in the twilight of yesterday. Those two characters juxtaposed against each other on the stage of the tennis court. Never again. In the twilight of classic traditional tennis. That was the last of it. Real tennis. The wooden Wilson Jack Kramer Pro Staff vs. the Donnay's of Borg. Real live wood taken from the forest. Wood that was alive for years...for centuries, forever. Wood that lived in the forest and heard the birds sing, felt the squirrels and their little paws scrambling over their branches. Don't wake me now. What are all of these things in our memories? I am hallucinating...I was just out in the forest myself listening to those same birds. Looking for squirrels. Remembering those days when I had the legs of a stallion and I wasn't afraid of anyone on the other side of the net. After all we were both playing with the same stick of wood...from the same type of forest. Maybe that is why it makes me sad when they are cutting down the trees.

Slowly it fades into the past. Another Nadal and Djokovic final in a tennis Grand Slam event. Played with oversized, state of the art graphite...with strings that apply so much spin to the ball on courts that are designed to receive that spin...which alters the technique of the champion, which alters the tactics of the game. Voila...presto magic. There you have it. Modern tennis. In all of it's shock and awe glory.

You are in awe of Nadal and Djokovic? I am not. I am still in awe of Gonzales, of Budge and McEnroe. Guys of that ilk. Life is like tennis I guess. Perhaps a little metaphorically speaking. Out with the old and in with the new. It's a cycle it seems. That apparently leads to nowhere in particular...like a squirrel chasing it's tail. Certainly I can admire the athleticism...come on now. I have seen it all. My father used to take me to Tiger Stadium and we would arrive at the park early sitting in the right field upper deck, just to watch Al Kaline throw strikes to the catcher from the outfield in pregame practice. That guy had a rifle for an arm. Today you have ARod, Maguire and Roger Clemons. Million dollar babies. Kaline refused to sign a contract with the Tigers in 1969 for a 100,000 dollars because he did not want to have his teammates resenting him, or upstage his manager. Such were the days when sports were about tradition, trust, loyalty and dedication to things bigger than the individual. Not just the almighty dollar.

Roger Federer is a product of the modern era make no mistake about it. He is a million dollar baby too. So far removed from the reality of "normal" life that if somehow he was plunged into it all of a sudden he might feel that he was drowning without all of his fame and fortune to keep him afloat. One ironic thing about Federer is that he is a victim of the whole charade as well. A lot of the most recent engineering took place on his watch. To his credit he adapted to a point. But in his own way he is stuck in the past. He plays with a tennis racquet that is ten percent smaller that his three closest rivals. Do you have a clear idea what the ten percent means over the course of a tennis match? Ten percent in the hands of trained professionals? In a game where you have "Hawkeye" settling disputes that are mere fractions of millimeters? The only thing that I find in him to be so wonderful...is the last remaining remnant of the game that I used to play and passionately loved. You should of seen me back then...willing to kill the intruders and impostors with their shiny huge Prince Graphites. The nitwits. The useless pawns. I hated them. Still do...sort of. One of my feet is planted in reality, I know what the score is. The other one is firmly planted in my dreams...my memories. I knew Don Budge you know. It was such an honor to know that man. I practiced with him back in 1973, I was an eighteen year old kid and only a counselor at his tennis camp, helping him get ready for the Senior Doubles at Wimbledon. He won you know. He and Vic Seixas beat Jaroslav Drobny, the left handed Czech and the Swedish Lennart Bergelin, Borg's old coach in the finals. I have my little place in tennis history...like all of us. But it's only human nature...to try and get a leg up. Call it cheating or hedging a bet. What ever...today anything goes as long as you can get away with it. It is what it is. Human nature that is. Old time tennis etiquette foreboded it. Budge would never of taken unfair advantage of his opponent...he with the long trousers with the shirt tail always meticulously tucked in. How is that physically possible? Is it possible that he was so in control, so smooth...so utterly cool? He was...I knew him up close and personal, in the flesh and not just as an electronic image on the idiot box or from you tube.

It's futile you know. I know it too. I am only Don Quixote waving my trusty old sword at the tsunami of progress. But just remember...with new technology, with every new invention, with the new way comes a curse. We can see it in our lives. In the people around us. In the world at large. It's always been like this I am told the only difference is that nowadays it is happening at an unprecedented speed. The rate of change is unprecedented and the odd thing is the younger ones have nothing to compare it to. Sadly...we see it in our children. Sadly...we see it in our treasured and beloved game of tennis. Recently...I saw something that made me think. It was a man who was so injured doing the thing that he loved best that he would not be able to participate in that activity any longer and when asked what he was going to do he replied from his hospital bed, gazing at the comely nurse who was tending to him with an extra bit of compassion as she was smitten..."I am going to find something that I love more than that". She smiled back at him.

What a champion! In the Game of Life! What will we do when the last remaining remnant of tradition is gone?

Just for the record
Wilson offered to Roger on MULTIPLE OCCASIONS frames much larger
than the current one.
He refused EVERY SINGLE saying that he does NOT have enough time
to switch
I am NOT sure whether the name Don Quixote applies only to you

[don_budge]

Hmmm...Squirrels and things.

tradi’tion n. body of beliefs, facts, etc., handed down to generation to generation without being reduced to writing; the process of handing down.

You have to hand it to the Spaniard - he's a great match player. He's phenomenal on the big points. He's up there with Pancho Gonzales and Borg as a match player.

Stotty, Stotty...my boy, my friend. Oh please be so careful when throwing around comparisons like this. There is no solid ground for comparison. That was then and this is now. A different era...a different time...a different game altogether. You can hand it to the Spaniard if you want...he doesn't amuse me nor am I entertained by him. To me he is sort of a hallucination. An apparition. With him there is a huge question looming over his head and the question is...Steroids? PED's? Gamesmanship? You can probably lump them all in that question nowadays...such are the times. It's not only virtual reality...guess what? It's virtual morality time! Our sense of right and wrong has been significantly warped or altered by cyber space...a separate reality. Somehow the images on our television sets or in our computers are larger than life. It's beyond warped.

We need another Mac or Edberg to come along.

Well that is not going to happen sadly enough. Yes, it's true...I long for those days, even before Edberg's time. He too, was a product of the new game. But McEnroe...he was the real thing. He and Borg dueling in the twilight of yesterday. Those two characters juxtaposed against each other on the stage of the tennis court. Never again. In the twilight of classic traditional tennis. That was the last of it. Real tennis. The wooden Wilson Jack Kramer Pro Staff vs. the Donnay's of Borg. Real live wood taken from the forest. Wood that was alive for years...for centuries, forever. Wood that lived in the forest and heard the birds sing, felt the squirrels and their little paws scrambling over their branches. Don't wake me now. What are all of these things in our memories? I am hallucinating...I was just out in the forest myself listening to those same birds. Looking for squirrels. Remembering those days when I had the legs of a stallion and I wasn't afraid of anyone on the other side of the net. After all we were both playing with the same stick of wood...from the same type of forest. Maybe that is why it makes me sad when they are cutting down the trees.

Slowly it fades into the past. Another Nadal and Djokovic final in a tennis Grand Slam event. Played with oversized, state of the art graphite...with strings that apply so much spin to the ball on courts that are designed to receive that spin...which alters the technique of the champion, which alters the tactics of the game. Voila...presto magic. There you have it. Modern tennis. In all of it's shock and awe glory.

You are in awe of Nadal and Djokovic? I am not. I am still in awe of Gonzales, of Budge and McEnroe. Guys of that ilk. Life is like tennis I guess. Perhaps a little metaphorically speaking. Out with the old and in with the new. It's a cycle it seems. That apparently leads to nowhere in particular...like a squirrel chasing it's tail. Certainly I can admire the athleticism...come on now. I have seen it all. My father used to take me to Tiger Stadium and we would arrive at the park early sitting in the right field upper deck, just to watch Al Kaline throw strikes to the catcher from the outfield in pregame practice. That guy had a rifle for an arm. Today you have ARod, Maguire and Roger Clemons. Million dollar babies. Kaline refused to sign a contract with the Tigers in 1969 for a 100,000 dollars because he did not want to have his teammates resenting him, or upstage his manager. Such were the days when sports were about tradition, trust, loyalty and dedication to things bigger than the individual. Not just the almighty dollar.

Roger Federer is a product of the modern era make no mistake about it. He is a million dollar baby too. So far removed from the reality of "normal" life that if somehow he was plunged into it all of a sudden he might feel that he was drowning without all of his fame and fortune to keep him afloat. One ironic thing about Federer is that he is a victim of the whole charade as well. A lot of the most recent engineering took place on his watch. To his credit he adapted to a point. But in his own way he is stuck in the past. He plays with a tennis racquet that is ten percent smaller that his three closest rivals. Do you have a clear idea what the ten percent means over the course of a tennis match? Ten percent in the hands of trained professionals? In a game where you have "Hawkeye" settling disputes that are mere fractions of millimeters? The only thing that I find in him to be so wonderful...is the last remaining remnant of the game that I used to play and passionately loved. You should of seen me back then...willing to kill the intruders and impostors with their shiny huge Prince Graphites. The nitwits. The useless pawns. I hated them. Still do...sort of. One of my feet is planted in reality, I know what the score is. The other one is firmly planted in my dreams...my memories. I knew Don Budge you know. It was such an honor to know that man. I practiced with him back in 1973, I was an eighteen year old kid and only a counselor at his tennis camp, helping him get ready for the Senior Doubles at Wimbledon. He won you know. He and Vic Seixas beat Jaroslav Drobny, the left handed Czech and the Swedish Lennart Bergelin, Borg's old coach in the finals. I have my little place in tennis history...like all of us. But it's only human nature...to try and get a leg up. Call it cheating or hedging a bet. What ever...today anything goes as long as you can get away with it. It is what it is. Human nature that is. Old time tennis etiquette foreboded it. Budge would never of taken unfair advantage of his opponent...he with the long trousers with the shirt tail always meticulously tucked in. How is that physically possible? Is it possible that he was so in control, so smooth...so utterly cool? He was...I knew him up close and personal, in the flesh and not just as an electronic image on the idiot box or from you tube.

It's futile you know. I know it too. I am only Don Quixote waving my trusty old sword at the tsunami of progress. But just remember...with new technology, with every new invention, with the new way comes a curse. We can see it in our lives. In the people around us. In the world at large. It's always been like this I am told the only difference is that nowadays it is happening at an unprecedented speed. The rate of change is unprecedented and the odd thing is the younger ones have nothing to compare it to. Sadly...we see it in our children. Sadly...we see it in our treasured and beloved game of tennis. Recently...I saw something that made me think. It was a man who was so injured doing the thing that he loved best that he would not be able to participate in that activity any longer and when asked what he was going to do he replied from his hospital bed, gazing at the comely nurse who was tending to him with an extra bit of compassion as she was smitten..."I am going to find something that I love more than that". She smiled back at him.

What a champion! In the Game of Life! What will we do when the last remaining remnant of tradition is gone?