I’m supposed to be
writing, but I play tennis too. The
Australian Open is on, and with two Australians making the fourth round,
there’s a bit to watch.
An old hero is back –
Ivan Lendl is coaching Andy Murray. Do
you remember Ivan? People said he was robotic
and boring. He hit the ball hard on both
sides. Fantastic.
I caught a glimpse from the entry to a packed Margaret Court Arena, and
saw him strike a forehand. The ball
boomed through the air before topspin took hold and the fluffy green ball dove for the baseline.
He won three consecutive US Open finals and played in eight consecutive US
Open finals. He trained obsessively day
after day. Every hour of his
professional life was scripted, from the hours spent on physical training, to
practice, to what he ate. Despite not
being the most gifted tennis player, through his physical and mental regime, he remains third in
number of tournaments won.
Lendl
leads me to think of the scruffy Miroslav Mecir, nicknamed ‘The Big Cat’
because of his court movement, and the ‘Swede Killer’ because he kept beating the
endless array of Swedes that followed Bjorn Borg. At University, with an unshaven look, one of
my tennis playing friends honoured me with the nickname ‘The Big Cat’, unfortunately,
not because I could play like Mecir.
Have a look on youtube. He was
deft, loving the angles on the court, and balls seemed to accelerate away from
his racquet. Impossible, but it
comes from the timing and the effortlessness of the shots. His talent was inspiring when it was on
display. He won Gold in the Seoul
Olympics.
And then youtube sucks
you in. You can watch Rosewall playing
Laver. If you’re my age, or younger, you
probably haven’t seen either of them play much.
I saw Rosewall play on grass at Kooyong when he was about 40 years of
age, sliding backhands down the line and volleys finding corners of the court. There’s an argument for Rosewall being the
best player ever, but his peak occurred when he played professional tennis and
was ineligible to play in the Grand Slams.
He had the most wonderful slice backhand.
I still remember when
Madeleine, my first daughter, played an outstanding backhand in
competition. She served out wide to a
boy’s forehand, he scrabbled it back to the middle of the court, and she leaned
into her double-handed backhand and banged it to the other side of the
court. The boy had no chance. I can’t play that shot.
John Newcombe is
commentating now on the Nadal / Lopez match.
He spoke of how Tony Roche coaches children, and asks them to hit balls
as hard as they can into the corner.
They hit them well for the first four or five shots and then slip away
in standard. Tony stops them and says,
Rafa practices that shot one hundred times.
I didn’t have a
playing or practice partner in my late teens, so I trudged to the tennis
courts, alone, with a bucket of balls and a target to position in the backhand
corner of each service box. To this day,
I can serve to your backhand every time.
If I had practiced serving to the other side I might manufacture an ace
or two. Still, the logic remains sound –
at my level – the backhand is always weaker.
At Rod Laver’s level
too. He sported a set of left arm much
larger than his right, used to whip his topspin forehand around the court. For a right-hander, that forehand springs up
and away from your backhand, a very uncomfortable position. Much practice builds up muscles, and there’s
the parallel with writing – it too is about practice, and the more you write,
the stronger your writing muscle.
So it’s ok to take a
break from writing, to learn lessons from other activities. Just as well, because one of my highlights of
2011 was the tennis tournament at Kerang with the family. Four days and fourteen matches left me a
broken but happy man, and I played doubles with Shelley and Madeleine, and with Siena in
her first ever competitive match. Siena has now played a full season of competitive tennis - undefeated in seven singles matches! I can’t
wait to get back to Kerang in 2012 and I might start training soon.
Meanwhile, I’d best
get back to writing. The leaders of my
favourite sport demonstrate the commitment required to get to the top. If you want to sell a million copies and reap
the rewards, the lessons are there.
Hi Robert
ReplyDeleteThought I'd pop over to read your tennis post. Unlike me you actually get off the couch to play. I'm afraid I'm purely spectator stock.
I agree that we can take our lead from tennis players when it comes to our commitment to writing ... it's all in the attitude I think.
Good luck with your novel.
Libby