Thoughts about Tennis Tradition...

[stotty]

Boxing doesn't move forward

Sport always moves forward...someone always comes along and takes things to another level...equipment aids the process...then...comparisons with past athletes becomes impossible. Athletes from all sports get faster, bigger, stronger, better, better, better, and better than ever before...or do they?

I just watched a replay of the 1971 Ali versus Frazier fight on ESPN. That sport can't move on in terms of equipment...same gloves...shorts...that's it. No one boxes as well as Ali and Frazier anymore...not even close. Boxing has gone backwards. The past was better in that sport, far better.

If you keep equipment static, things can hit a peak.

[stotty]

Great post...

“Television is by nature the dominator drug par excellence. Control of content, uniformity of content, repeatability of content make it inevitably a tool of coersion, brainwashing, and manipulation.” -Terrance McKenna

Money and television. These are your modern day gods. Both gave their blessing to Howard Head when he "created" the Prince racquet. There is your "evolution" geoffwilliams...it's not evolution at all. It's cheating...what you pretend to abhor. But you are the "equipment guy"...so that makes it alright. In your eyes. But it's all good...simple statements of fact. No emotions...no accusations.

It was cheating when they "bent" the rules in the first place...by pretending that they did not exist. It is still cheating today but nobody cares. This is why the performance enhancing drugs are ignored. Is that cheating? Of course it is, but nobody cares. To care would upset the status quo which would mean rewriting the financial statements not to mention take some titles away...ala Lance Armstrong. There are no rules except those that the ruling class make and the rest must follow. Tennis has become much like life...where the object of the game is to learn the rules. Tennis is a corporation. It doesn't care about the legacy of Lew Hoad, Richard Gonzales or Ken Rosewall.

But years ago tennis was ruled by "tennis etiquette" and one rule governed all. Thou shall not seek unfair advantage over your opponent. What you have today is the result. Seek that advantage at all costs...leave no stone unturned. For those too young to remember...study this example in modern day ethics and then take a good hard look at what is going on around you. Look at your school, your place of work, your family...then finally look at your country. Listen to the doublespeak of the politicians. Forget the past...it's a New World Order. Trust them? Tennis is a microcosm of life and therefore a worthy example...at least metaphorically speaking.

"Make boats go slower...planes without wings." Your use of the word evolution makes me want to gag. Björn Borg and John McEnroe...now that was evolution. Tennis was a living thing and the use of the wood was the Golden Rule...the wood gave the game life. Sadly "they" killed it...there is no other way to put it. Sampras, Edberg and Becker...television icons at best. Pure and simple...they were engineered for television. We will never know how they compared with Hoad, Gonzales and Laver. They were playing an altered version of the sport. Why is it important? Why would someone cling to the past? Why would someone cling to the way that it used to be? Go and ask the Indians and talk about traditions lost...or the only other option is to stick around and see what happens next...and look around.

In 1984...John McEnroe, Jimmy Connors and Chris Evert all used oversized equipment at the U. S. Open for the first time. I was there and on the scene with a coaches pass...I was spellbound by the tennis. I could hardly believe my eyes. Neither could Ivan Lendl as he barely eked by Pat Cash by saving a handful of match points. Cash...was using a Prince Magnesium which was being touted on TV by one Eric Korita in a commercial. Remember that name? Of course not. He was merely a shill...a mouthpiece for the corporation. Lendl should have an asterisk by his name in the Hall of Fame for having the biggest cajones of them all and being the last to cave in to the equipment. That is testimony as to just how good he was.

Arthur Ashe was hawking a new mid-size Head racquet. It was amazing how everyone rolled over. All it took was a little grease...a little cash money. I could see the disparity in the Lendl/Cash match up in the stands...the disparity in the equipment. Cash was not nearly the player that Lendl was but the equipment made up the difference. Tennis was at the crossroads and even the best players in the world had to submit...they were forced to admit that the game had crossed the line. That line of demarcation where tradition ends and the new age begins. John Newcombe in the semifinals against Stan Smith of the veteran's singles was also using a Prince racquet. It was almost sacrilegious.

Bud Collins called it the greatest day of tennis ever without batting an eyelash. He never mentioned the equipment. He merely gushed and regurgitated what the smart money was selling. The commercials on television during that first "Super Saturday" in tennis were awash with Apple computers...they were mere dinosaurs to what we carry around in our pocket today. Orwell had it pegged. It was 1984...what an amazing call, George, if only symbolically...if only you had lived to see it. Progress? To where? To what? We shall see. Connect the dots...come on, give it a try.

Nobody ever said anything about going back to wood racquets strung with gut. You jump the gun with your fervent speech. Another diversionary tactic. I want to state clearly so that there is no misunderstanding. Tennis is in wanton need of standards for the equipment. Frames and strings included. The court specifications also need to be addressed. Don't tamper with the dimensions unless you want to create a parallel universe. tennis_chiro had it right with his screenplay. Maybe the script should call for some revolution where the people win back what was theirs. Make it an epic!

The parallels drawn should give you reason to wonder...reason enough to ask yourself the question "Why?". But it won't. Such is the nature of the brainwashed. Today's fervent mind. You don’t really miss Lew Hoad, Laver or Rosewall nor do you respect them. You have ridiculed them in the past saying that they wouldn’t make the top one hundred in today’s wonder world of modern tennis. But as Stotty suggests...you win. But trust me...it is no victory for you or the rest of the herd. This is one that I am proud to lose. At least I stood up for the one I loved...true to the very end. But that is just the kind of guy that I am.

Now that was one hell of a post! Thanks for sharing that one with the forum.

The key thing for me is "comparison". I want to compare Mac with Federer...Hoad with Murray...Nadal with Borg. We can never do that now. Such comparisons can only be a games played out in our minds...riddled with the bias and prejudice that we all suffer from.

A truly great post, don_budge...well played.

[don_budge]

Brainwashing...and today's fervent minds.

“Television is by nature the dominator drug par excellence. Control of content, uniformity of content, repeatability of content make it inevitably a tool of coersion, brainwashing, and manipulation.” -Terrance McKenna

Money and television. These are your modern day gods. Both gave their blessing to Howard Head when he "created" the Prince racquet. There is your "evolution" geoffwilliams...it's not evolution at all. It's cheating...what you pretend to abhor. But you are the "equipment guy"...so that makes it alright. In your eyes. But it's all good...simple statements of fact. No emotions...no accusations.

It was cheating when they "bent" the rules in the first place...by pretending that they did not exist. It is still cheating today but nobody cares. This is why the performance enhancing drugs are ignored. Is that cheating? Of course it is, but nobody cares. To care would upset the status quo which would mean rewriting the financial statements not to mention take some titles away...ala Lance Armstrong. There are no rules except those that the ruling class make and the rest must follow. Tennis has become much like life...where the object of the game is to learn the rules. Tennis is a corporation. It doesn't care about the legacy of Lew Hoad, Richard Gonzales or Ken Rosewall.

But years ago tennis was ruled by "tennis etiquette" and one rule governed all. Thou shall not seek unfair advantage over your opponent. What you have today is the result. Seek that advantage at all costs...leave no stone unturned. For those too young to remember...study this example in modern day ethics and then take a good hard look at what is going on around you. Look at your school, your place of work, your family...then finally look at your country. Listen to the doublespeak of the politicians. Forget the past...it's a New World Order. Trust them? Tennis is a microcosm of life and therefore a worthy example...at least metaphorically speaking.

"Make boats go slower...planes without wings." Your use of the word evolution makes me want to gag. Björn Borg and John McEnroe...now that was evolution. Tennis was a living thing and the use of the wood was the Golden Rule...the wood gave the game life. Sadly "they" killed it...there is no other way to put it. Sampras, Edberg and Becker...television icons at best. Pure and simple...they were engineered for television. We will never know how they compared with Hoad, Gonzales and Laver. They were playing an altered version of the sport. Why is it important? Why would someone cling to the past? Why would someone cling to the way that it used to be? Go and ask the Indians and talk about traditions lost...or the only other option is to stick around and see what happens next...and look around.

In 1984...John McEnroe, Jimmy Connors and Chris Evert all used oversized equipment at the U. S. Open for the first time. I was there and on the scene with a coaches pass...I was spellbound by the tennis. I could hardly believe my eyes. Neither could Ivan Lendl as he barely eked by Pat Cash by saving a handful of match points. Cash...was using a Prince Magnesium which was being touted on TV by one Eric Korita in a commercial. Remember that name? Of course not. He was merely a shill...a mouthpiece for the corporation. Lendl should have an asterisk by his name in the Hall of Fame for having the biggest cajones of them all and being the last to cave in to the equipment. That is testimony as to just how good he was.

Arthur Ashe was hawking a new mid-size Head racquet. It was amazing how everyone rolled over. All it took was a little grease...a little cash money. I could see the disparity in the Lendl/Cash match up in the stands...the disparity in the equipment. Cash was not nearly the player that Lendl was but the equipment made up the difference. Tennis was at the crossroads and even the best players in the world had to submit...they were forced to admit that the game had crossed the line. That line of demarcation where tradition ends and the new age begins. John Newcombe in the semifinals against Stan Smith of the veteran's singles was also using a Prince racquet. It was almost sacrilegious.

Bud Collins called it the greatest day of tennis ever without batting an eyelash. He never mentioned the equipment. He merely gushed and regurgitated what the smart money was selling. The commercials on television during that first "Super Saturday" in tennis were awash with Apple computers...they were mere dinosaurs to what we carry around in our pocket today. Orwell had it pegged. It was 1984...what an amazing call, George, if only symbolically...if only you had lived to see it. Progress? To where? To what? We shall see. Connect the dots...come on, give it a try.

Nobody ever said anything about going back to wood racquets strung with gut. You jump the gun with your fervent speech. Another diversionary tactic. I want to state clearly so that there is no misunderstanding. Tennis is in wanton need of standards for the equipment. Frames and strings included. The court specifications also need to be addressed. Don't tamper with the dimensions unless you want to create a parallel universe. tennis_chiro had it right with his screenplay. Maybe the script should call for some revolution where the people win back what was theirs. Make it an epic!

The parallels drawn should give you reason to wonder...reason enough to ask yourself the question "Why?". But it won't. Such is the nature of the brainwashed. Today's fervent mind. You don’t really miss Lew Hoad, Laver or Rosewall nor do you respect them. You have ridiculed them in the past saying that they wouldn’t make the top one hundred in today’s wonder world of modern tennis. But as Stotty suggests...you win. But trust me...it is no victory for you or the rest of the herd. This is one that I am proud to lose. At least I stood up for the one I loved...true to the very end. But that is just the kind of guy that I am.

[don_budge]

Activities in the Kingdom...Fair play and higher aspirations. Part II

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/05/sp...f/05score.html

http://golf.about.com/od/rulesofgolf/a/noncdrivers.htm

I like to think of tennis and golf as God’s gift to mankind in terms of recreation.

http://edition.cnn.com/2012/11/28/sport/golf/golf-belly-putter-ban-bradley/index.html?hpt=hp_bn2

Once again golf trumps tennis in preserving the tradition of their sport and recognizing that the use of some equipment gives others an unfair advantage over another...a cardinal sin when playing in the Kingdom.

Belly putters used as anchored to the body are banned as of 2016 giving those golfers maladied with the yips a couple of years to seek therapy before they will be forced to hang themselves in the barn for missing short and ultimately important putts late in the round.

Read some of the quotes and you will see familiar arguments from some of the stooges in tennis that are against equipment standardization and were supportive of the original transgressions. Also note that there are those interested in preserving "integrity" in the game. That used to be the most important thing...before it became money.

[don_budge]

In Honor of Thanksgiving Day...and the warriors that perished not so long ago.

A Thanksgiving Prayer to those that perished and to those that survive...not so long ago. For Richard Gonzales...he with Aztec eyes. They hunted you...you never backed down.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8S-jdXJ0H4w

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bVVKDB0EP-0&feature=related

Indian Sunset- Elton John

As I awoke this evening with the smell of wood smoke clinging
Like a gentle cobweb hanging upon a painted teepee
Oh I went to see my chieftain with my warlance and my woman
For he told us that the yellow moon would very soon be leaving
This I can't believe I said, I can't believe our warlord's dead
Oh he would not leave the chosen ones to the buzzards and the soldiers guns

Oh great father of the Iroquois ever since I was young
I've read the writing of the smoke and breast fed on the sound of drums
I've learned to hurl the tomahawk and ride a painted pony wild
To run the gauntlet of the Sioux, to make a chieftain's daughter mine

And now you ask that I should watch
The red man's race be slowly crushed
What kind of words are these to hear
From Yellow Dog whom white man fears

I take only what is mine Lord, my pony, my squaw, and my child
I can't stay to see you die along with my tribe's pride
I go to search for the yellow moon and the fathers of our sons
Where the red sun sinks in the hills of gold and the healing waters run

Trampling down the prairie rose leaving hoof tracks in the sand
Those who wish to follow me I welcome with my hands
I heard from passing renegades Geronimo was dead
He'd been laying down his weapons when they filled him full of lead

Now there seems no reason why I should carry on
In this land that once was my land I can't find a home
It's lonely and it's quiet and the horse soldiers are coming
And I think it's time I strung my bow and ceased my senseless running
For soon I'll find the yellow moon along with my loved ones
Where the buffaloes graze in clover fields without the sound of guns

And the red sun sinks at last into the hills of gold
And peace to this young warrior comes with a bullet hole

[don_budge]

Activities in the Kingdom...Fair play and higher aspirations.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/05/sp...f/05score.html

http://golf.about.com/od/rulesofgolf/a/noncdrivers.htm

I like to think of tennis and golf as God’s gift to mankind in terms of recreation. Those of us blessed with enough free time and the energy and motivation to pursue these two “leisure” activities have the opportunity to experience some of the more sublime aspects of life. Through the ages of modern man these activities have had the reputation of being elite activities for good reason.

Both sports or games are intellectual pursuits as well. Aristocrats in the past put a very important emphasis on fair play and etiquette in the games that they played even though they may of been making a mockery of the rest of it in their daily lives as they fleeced the masses. The amount of control of one’s body, mind and emotions that are in play when you play either of these two games, teach any thinking human being about things that are not directly written in the rules manuals. Lessons in the science of human body movements, appreciation of philosophy and art are abundant in the pursuit of excellence in both endeavors and contemplation of fair play should emerge as one of the most fundamental aspects of all of this knowledge and experience.

The above two articles relate to two important issues regarding golf equipment. One of the articles is about the grooves in the golf clubs, to which the ability to put spin on the ball is directly a function of. Much as the strings in a tennis racquet are directly related to the amount of spin that can be applied to a tennis ball. The second article is about the driver club and the amount of spring back effect it can have on the golf ball. This rule was enforced to limit the force that the driver could artificially apply without the skill of the golfer. These two rules represent an attempt to standardize the equipment somewhat and at the same time limit the influence of the equipment.

As I mentioned...it seems that golf and tennis are activities that you more or less have to be blessed to participate in. The level and experience of both activities are of a peculiarly sublime nature. Years ago, more emphasis was put on things like the fair play and etiquette aspect and breaches of these aspects were frowned upon...it was not win at any cost. Sometimes you had to accept defeat rather than try to bend the rules or benefit from some infraction of them.

Golf is in the realm of the infinite. No two golf courses will look identical, if for instance you are viewing them from the sky. During the course of a round there are an infinite amount of permutations and combinations that may take place and the golfer, with his control of himself and his swing along with his emotions, makes his way around the golf course. Golf has gone through a similar transition with the equipment as has tennis, but golf is even more controlled by the random nature of the game with its unlimited amount of possibilities due to the size of the golf ball, the equipment and the vastness of the golf course with the score culminating in a shot to a very small target. They have even made the golf courses longer to accommodate those changes.

Tennis, on the other hand, is an activity that reeks of the finite. All tennis courts will look identical, if for instance you are looking down at them from the heavens. Those metaphysical lines that we know so well and that we love so much, represent the limits and boundaries of what is good and what is bad...or rather what is in or what is out. When you contemplate the game itself and understand the history of it, it was never meant to be played with such an emphasis on power, speed and unlimited spin. Modern technology certainly has made all of that available to the tennis player...but in the process it has changed certain philosophical boundaries with regard to fair play and etiquette by not standardizing certain aspects of the equipment.

Because of the finite nature of the game and the precise dimensions of the course or court upon which it is played, it is in the interest of everyone that purports to “love” the game to make it fair and equal for any two competitors to face each other in competition. If there are not rules or specifications to reign in the technology and limits of the way the game is played it becomes less credible as a moral theater and it becomes more like a video game...or big time wrestling.

The size of the ball and the size of the court never changed and the difference in the ratio of the racquet to both of these other two measurements has altered the game drastically. They should make the courts smaller to accommodate the changes. Comparing players of the past to those of the present is a futile and silly exercise...which has virtually eliminated one very important aspect of the game. Tradition. Traditional values. I can hear you all scoffing...which is too bad. I just hope that you are scoffing at the news on the television as well. Life is sometimes a reflection of those things that surround us and tennis has always had metaphoric interpretations to how we relate to ourselves and our community...even though for many it renders us more egotistical than the rest of the herd. Which is not necessarily a bad thing in itself...if that is controlled as well.

Whenever I have watched Roger Federer play tennis I always marvel at his skills. When I watch any of the other players I don’t have that feeling or sensation. Sure, I can appreciate power and speed as much as the next guy...but I suppose there is somewhere inside of me, an artist, or at least a connoisseur, plus a wannabe intellectual. But most of all...when I watch a game of tennis I want to admire the skills...and not the equipment factor. Golf has taken some necessary steps to insure that there is something of fairness that is being preserved in that saintly activity...even though golf might just bring out the devil in you. I wish with all of my heart that tennis would do the same. It would give us something to aspire to in our daily lives. Oh Lord, we need that now. That’s all.

[don_budge]

In english...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fa9TlInLKkQ

If I could sing like that I could make them cry instead of vice versa.


Romanza (english translation)

I can hear her
I can hear her dying,
but she’s calm, it seems as she wants to
sleep;
then she comes and searchs for me
with her eyes
then she takes off
the last veil as well,
the last heaven as well,
the last kiss as well.

Ah, maybe it’s my own fault
ah, maybe it’s your fault
and like this I kept thinking.

but life...
but, what’s life?
all or nothing
maybe not even a why.
She comes and searchs for me
with her hands
then she holds me tight,
she lets go slowly,
she holds me tight slowly
she looks for me slowly.

Ah, maybe it’s my own fault
ah, maybe it’s your fault
and like this I kept watching.

and they call it love,
and they call it love
and they call it love
a thorn in the heart
which doesn’t hurt
it’s a dessert
this people
with sand
at the bottom of their hearts
and you,
you don’t hear me anymore,
you don’t see me anymore,
if at least I had the courage
and the strength to tell you
that I’m with you.

Ah, maybe it’s my own fault
ah, maybe it’s my own fault
and like this I stayed just like this
I stayed just like this.

I can hear her
she can’t hear anymore;
in silence
she went to sleep
she already went to sleep.

[don_budge]

Women...yes...it is all about women. Sigh...and love.

Finally, I understand. I had it all wrong. I thought my iPhone was an "it". But once again, don_budge has put his finger on the crux of the matter. That explains everything. I've only known her for a year now, but that explains why I have never been able to get her to do everything I know she is capable of. Of course, she's a woman. Story of my life ...

don

And they call it love...a thorn in the heart.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fa9TlInLKkQ

Romanza-Andrea Bocelli


Già la sento,
già la sento morire,
però è calma sembra voglia
dormire;
poi con gli occhi
lei mi viene a cercare,
poi si toglie
anche l’ultimo velo,
anche l’ultimo cielo,
anche l’ultimo bacio.

Ah, forse colpa mia,
ah, forse colpa tua,
e così son rimasto a pensare.

Ma la vita,
ma la vita cos’è
tutto o niente,
forse neanche un perchè.
Con le mani
lei me viene a cercare,
poi mi stringe,
lentamente mi lascia,
lentamente mi stringe,
lentamente mi cerca.

Ah, forse colpa mia,
ah, forse colpa tua,
e così sono rimasto a guardare.

E lo chiamano amore,
e lo chiamano amore,
e lo chiamano amore
una spina nel cuore
che non fa dolore.
È un deserto
questa gente
con la sabbia
in fondo al cuore
e tu,
che non mi senti più,
che non mi vedi più,
avessi almeno il coraggio
e la forza di dirti
che sono con te.
(Ave Maria, ave Maria.)

Ah, forse colpa mia,
ah, forse colpa mia,
e così son rimasto così
son rimasto così.

Già la sento
che non può più sentire;
in silenzio
se n’è andata a dormire,
è già andata a dormire.

[tennis_chiro]

It's a woman!!

Finally, I understand. I had it all wrong. I thought my iPhone was an "it". But once again, don_budge has put his finger on the crux of the matter. That explains everything. I've only known her for a year now, but that explains why I have never been able to get her to do everything I know she is capable of. Of course, she's a woman. Story of my life ...

don

[don_budge]

My iPhone...

Last night I had a dream about my iPhone. It was a little scary. Somehow the screen on my iPhone was changing colors on me. Viber, Skype, emails, phone messages...all of it. Like a lava lamp, the colors and symbols were all melting together. I didn't recognize it as mine. It seemed as if mine had gotten mixed up with someone else's. Then it struck me...my iPhone was more than an iPhone. It was a part of me...a part of my being. When it changed my whole world was upside down and it would be impossible to go forwards until it's correct identity was ascertained. My connection to reality was SNAFU'd. I would be dead in the water...incapable of making any kind of move throughout the day. Then the dream took on nightmarish proportions...my iPhone was no longer a phone at all. It had somehow transformed itself into the remote control for my TV. A useless piece of crap!

But the fact is that dreaming about a mobile phone has indicated to me that I am right yet again. Tennis is a metaphor for life in so many ways. The technology that represents progress takes us yet another step closer to not being able to recognize ourselves for what we were originally intended to be. Human beings...members of the natural order of things. Then there is, what was...traditionally speaking. The etiquette of it all...that is, what was that went without saying. That too, is a thing of the past and Hawkeye makes it all so cut and dry for us...we accept the fact that we have a machine making decisions for us because we accept the fact that it is superior to our judgement without so much as a blush. The umpire merely activates the artificial intelligence without questioning the process. We all nod in agreement and admire the precision of it all. Human error expelled from the equation.

Virtual morality...my word. It's my concept...but I share it with you. At least I have never heard anyone else coin this phrase. My iPhone was changing on me. She may not answer to me anymore. She has gone astray from me and I cannot depend upon her loyalty any longer. If "she" is no longer loyal to me...what is this world coming to? Is nothing sacred? All of the moral bounds and limits are gone asunder. It's a brave new world out there. What are the implications for human behavior? What about love? They certainly have changed the dating game haven't they? Is anybody else asking themselves these questions? For sure nobody under the age of 44 is. Assuming that 1984 was the year when the worm turned and you would have to be at least 18 years old to understand that phenomenon. The herd is just another pack of lemmings...as much as the news is another pack of lies!

I guess it was only a dream. I woke up and my iPhone was behaving normally...at least she appeared to be. You never know though with women, what is going on deep down in that secret garden of theirs...in their imaginations. At least you never know any better about them than you know about yourself. I gave her a kiss and a hug and then told her I loved her...that I cared. Then I checked to see if I had any messages.

[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.