Play a Tennis Match

“The match starts just as I’d hoped. There are no nerves, I feel light on my feet and unable to miss. He’s trying everything he can, but the shots and patterns of play that worked against me in practise aren’t working now. As a result, I take a commanding lead. First set to Joe, a crushing 6 – 0. [...] As soon as I think these thoughts, everything changes. The puppet master suddenly appears. He’s messing with me again. My arms go to jelly. I can barely hold the racket. My mental toughness deserts me.”

“During the tiebreak, the surreal feeling continued. My body and mind were able to execute shots that crossed into that window and landed in my opponent’s half of the court with ease. I didn’t miss many and started to feel a sense of calm and tranquility. It was like I was in a dream-state, nothing fazed me. I was absolutely enjoying striking the ball, floating around the court, and hitting freely, as if I was the only person out there. To this day, the memories remain vivid. I can only describe it as a light, airy sensation, almost as if time had slowed down. It was strange, yet beautiful.”

“To play in a tennis tournament is to be taken to emotional extremes on a daily basis. After a win, you’re satisfied, relieved, happy—any positive feeling you can name applies. (If nothing else, winning a tennis match teaches you that relief may be the most powerful emotion involved in competition.) But with each hour, thoughts of the next match creep in, and your sense of satisfaction creeps out. By the time you go to bed, you’re a walking anxiety. It only gets worse when you wake up. Every morning of every junior match I ever played began with one profound hope: That my opponent would default.”