With Wimbledon’s hallowed tennis championships concluding over the weekend, I reflect upon what makes some of today’s greatest champions – and those who upset them – memorable. I have some personal tennis memories, as well.
There I was at the hotel following breakfast, doing some fun dives into the swimming pool. Hardly the way to get psyched up for a college tennis match.
I had good reason. As a freshman on the TCU tennis team, I was about to be offered up as a sacrifice to the men’s tennis team from Rice University. These were the old Southwest Conference days, and Rice was the #2-ranked team in the nation, behind only UCLA. Our coach decided to move me into the top position to give our best player a better chance against Rice’s #2 player.
My mission: Try not to embarrass myself against Zan Guerry, the #3 player in the nation, who had won the national junior championship just two years earlier. Zan would become one of only two four-time All-Americans on the Rice men’s tennis team, and he is a member of the Rice Athletic Hall of Fame.
TCU tennis was not as respected as our national indoor champion Horned Frogs are now. For us to come close to winning a single match against Rice would have been earth-shattering.
As I walked onto the court to meet Zan, my only chance was to be dangerous: Hit the ball hard and go for low-percentage shots in hopes that a good number of well-placed shots would find their way into the court and past Zan.
My term for this approach: Playing with reckless abandon.
I did have one significant advantage: He had never heard of me or seen me play, so he had no idea what to expect.
In this situation, the lower-ranked player normally plays his usual game and gets clobbered. That was not going to be my strategy.
The first game was all mine as I held serve. Zan hit some tough returns and I put more back into play than he did. For some reason, I seemed to know where he was going to hit each shot and my anticipation paid off.
Score: TCU 1, Rice 0.
Zan held his serve, but I made him work for it. I was going for those low-percentage shots and they were falling in the harder that I hit them. As we continued, it was 3-all and I was serving.
I had been hitting this heavy spin “kick” serve in the ad court that pulled Zan way into the alley. It was my game point and I instinctively knew he would be standing in the alley so he could tee off on his powerful forehand.
Continuing with my go-for-broke attitude, I figured that – even with my toss set up for the kick serve – if I came across the ball with a different angle and hit it as hard as I could, I could serve an ace (unreturnable, untouched serve) down the middle since Zan was in the alley.
All these thoughts raced through my mind and I realized I had never tried this type of serve before. As far as I knew, the serve could bounce into the bottom of the net, fly into the fence, or anything in between.
God gave me a gift, as the ball hit the center service line and Zan was standing in the alley. In my greatest tennis moment ever, the #3 collegiate tennis player in America shrieked in frustration.
I could die a happy man – I had made a tennis legend scream!
The match continued and I was still playing out of my mind. It was the match of my life.
Until I woke up
Zan was serving at 4-5, 15-30. I was two points from winning the first set. Then it happened. As I prepared to tee off on his serve to my forehand, the thought ran through my head: You’re two points away from taking the first set from the #3 player in the country, and a lot of people are watching you!
I punched that ball back instead of hitting it hard. To quote the magnificent Austin Powers in his later movie, Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery, I lost my mojo. Once I started being defensive, everything broke down.
Suddenly, I could no longer fly recklessly around the court. My legs felt heavy from swimming and diving that morning. My right arm felt heavy. Worst of all, that taste of adrenalin you have when you have nothing left took over.
I lost that match to Zan Guerry, 7-5, 6-0, but I’ll never forget how that first 25 minutes felt, as I went head-to-head with one of America’s elite tennis players.
Lessons learned:
- When you are outmatched – in work, in school, or any sport, realize you are most dangerous when you will go for ANY shot or ANY option at ANY time.
- Once you are “in the zone,” avoid all distractions and keep yourself completely in the moment.
- When you are “in the zone,” realize that no shot, no solution, and no proposal that is legal and honorable (don’t rob a bank!) should be held back.
- Enjoy the moment as you eye your opponent without fear because when you are “in the zone,” you are – at least temporarily – your opponent’s equal.
Please email me (john@thefletch.org) about your greatest “in the zone” experience.
John Fletcher is CEO/Founder of Fletcher Consulting Public Relations in Arlington, where he emphasizes the value of developing strong personal and business relationships. Contact him at john@thefletch.org