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October 6 - October 21, 2020
Getting it together mentally in tennis involves the learning of several internal skills: 1) learning how to get the clearest possible picture of your desired outcomes; 2) learning how to trust Self 2 to perform at its best and learn from both successes and failures; and 3) learning to see “nonjudgmentally”—that is, to see what is happening rather than merely noticing how well or how badly it is happening.
When a tennis player is “in the zone,” he’s not thinking about how, when or even where to hit the ball. He’s not trying to hit the ball, and after the shot he doesn’t think about how badly or how well he made contact.
The first skill to learn is the art of letting go the human inclination to judge ourselves and our performance as either good or bad.
It is interesting to see how the judgmental mind extends itself. It may begin by complaining, “What a lousy serve,” then extend to, “I’m serving badly today.” After a few more “bad” serves, the judgment may become further extended to “I have a terrible serve.” Then, “I’m a lousy tennis player,” and finally, “I’m no good.” First the mind judges the event, then groups events, then identifies with the combined event and finally judges itself.
“If the pro is pleased with one kind of performance, he will be displeased by the opposite. If he likes me for doing well, he will dislike me for not doing well.”
“My compliments are criticisms in disguise. I use both to manipulate behavior.”
too many verbal instructions, given either from outside or inside, interfere with one’s shotmaking ability.
They go on strike, as it were. By not trying, they always have an alibi: “I may have lost, but it doesn’t count because I really didn’t try.”
How can you have a desire to win, go all in and still be ok if you loose and humble if you win?
but as I hung up I realized I was furious. I grabbed my racket, ran down to the court and began hitting balls harder than I ever had before. Amazingly, most of them went in. I didn’t let up when the match began, nor did I relent my all-out attack until it was over. Even on crucial points I would go for winners and make them. I was playing with an uncharacteristic determination even when ahead; in fact I was playing out of my mind.
Winning is overcoming obstacles to reach a goal, but the value in winning is only as great as the value of the goal reached.
Then is your opponent a friend or an enemy? He is a friend to the extent that he does his best to make things difficult for you.
Like the surfer trying to get the big waves
Only by doing this do you give each other the opportunity to find out to what heights each can rise.
true competition is identical with true cooperation.
Each player tries his hardest to defeat the other, but in this use of competition it isn’t the other person we are defeating; it is simply a matter of overcoming the obstacles he presents.
Like a form of art
I used to think that if I was playing a friendly match against a player with a weak backhand, it was a bit unfair to always play his weakness. In the light of the foregoing, nothing could be further from the truth! If you play his backhand as much as you can, it can only get better as a result. If you are a nice guy and play his forehand, his backhand will remain weak; in this case the real nice guy is the competitor.
Until I realized the purpose of competition, I never felt really happy about defeating someone,
Today I play every point to win. It’s simple and it’s good. I don’t worry about winning or losing the match, but whether or not I am making the maximum effort during every point because I realize that that is where the true value lies.
