Packing my equipment bag is my “checklist” — it starts bringing me into the match ahead.
It’s natural to feel nerves before a big match, whether the cause is a certain you really want to beat or a tournament you’ve entered. In those situations, if you don’t feel nerves you’ll lose. The quality players are helped by nerves because they use the good part and control the bad part. They know that the energy from nerves can work for you, making you try harder, focus sharper, and do more.
When you get nervous your breathing pattern changes. It’s the first thing you should check. Your breathing tells you about the level of your anxiety. And, more importantly, your breathing can help you control your anxiety. Everything is jumpy, racy, and out of sync when you get nervous. Take smooth, rhythmic, deep breaths.
That basic truth hasn’t changed: You can improve your tennis game fastest and the most if you improve the way you think; if you work as hard on your mind as you do on your strokes.
Practice your serve. It may be the most important shot in this game.
Rafa wants to feel like he’s not the best, that he has to get better and better, and so he’s always working on some part of his great game. When I talk to him at tournaments he’s always fiddling with something — the grip, toss, or something else.
If one of the greatest players in the history of tennis can feel like his game is never good enough, so can you.
The difference in a world #1 and a world #3 is usually mental.
Serena Williams (and Venus too) have serious short-term memory loss. When things go bad, they have this ability to mentally wipe the slate clean — to forget about it immediately and not get ruined. Club players? We miss a few shots and lose a couple of games and it gets in our mind; we lose confidence, get rattled, and dial it down. Believe me, I know. That was me on tour plenty of times.
Opponents know that; they know that Serena, in particular, can be very lethal in that situation because she will not give up on herself, stays totally committed to and believes in her game, and comes out fighting harder and better than before.
Winning is hard enough when you believe in your shots. It’s impossible when you let yourself become a doubter.
Most recreational players are brain-dead on the tennis court. They go out and run around with no plan, no thought, no nothing. They give it as much study and consideration as jumping rope.
They’ll take lessons, hit on the ball machine, bang against the backboard, practice in the hot sun. Blood, sweat, and tears, the whole bit. Then having improved whatever stroke they’re trying to perfect, they won’t spend a minute figuring out how to use it to maximum effect during a match. Brain-dead. Hard workers, but brain-dead.
I liked just to show up and play. I’d settle into the match mentally and physically during the 1st set. A lot of times I could get away with it because my opponent was doing it too.
The warm-up begins with your brain. Your mind is usually the last part of you to get activated. Players stretch incorrectly for a minute, hit a couple of forehands, and 3 serves, and it’s “Let’s start.” They barely warm up the body, but that’s more attention than they give to their mental preparation.
Get into the habit of evaluating your opponent and thinking about the match before you arrive at the court.
As early as possible you want to force them to be considering the idea that “maybe it’s just not gonna be my day today.”
I want him to believe that I will never give up. I want him to get the feeling that I’m not going away. That’s I’m permanent.
When I pulled ahead in the tiebreak, I guarantee there would have been some “stuff” going on to shake my momentum — an argument about a line call, an obscenity, or something else. He would never just let you cruise to victory.
Before I ever see an opponent on the day we play I’ve completely reviewed our match history, his game, and my plan for the match. I’ve mentally reviewed exactly what I want to make happen. And I know exactly what I want to prevent from happening. I know where I want to go and how I’m going to get there.
Now that he’s reviewed his game plan, checked his notes, done his stretching exercises, had a great warm-up, and changed into dry clothes, would he head back out to the court? Of course not. It was time for the final stage of the hustle. He’d make sure he got there 10 minutes late, apologize for the delay, and suggest that they cut the warm-up short.
My wife thinks I go overboard when it comes to packing my equipment before a match. She says I’m a fanatic about it. I pack the same way for a practice session. I am meticulous about what I bring to the court and take great pains to make sure everything I might need is in order. In a sense, it’s my office.
I want to avoid even getting thirsty. By then the toll is already being inflicted on my body because of dehydration. I avoid the loss of muscle strength and coordination that happens when you start to dehydrate.