Resilence and Choking: Federer vs. Cilic Wimbledon Match

Yesterday Roger Federer narrowly avoided being eliminated from Wimbledon at the hands of Marin Cilic. He was down two sets to none and even had a couple match points against him. Yet he prevailed. We think that Roger has nerves of steel and therefore never chokes but he did shank several balls, revealing that, yes, even Roger is human. In fact, I read a book on Federer recently that reveals he was very temperamental as a junior player. He had temper tantrums that made John McEnroe look mild. If he lost a match he would cry and pout for a while afterwards. Roger made a conscious decision to change his ways and become more Stoic.

This post by Allen Fox talks about how Roger handled choking by not panicking.

I should add that if there was anything to learn from this match it was that you can choke and still win as long as you don’t get rattled about it. And the topic of “courage” comes up when people think about choking. In my opinion, it doesn’t show courage to not be nervous and make the big shot on the big point. It takes courage to choke on the big point, not get upset about it; fight your way to another big point; and finally come through, either by making a good shot or your opponent missing.

Fox's point can apply to other situations beyond sports. That it's OK to tighten up under pressure as long as you recognize it and keep trying to do your best.
 

Late To The Ball: Tennis and Relationships

I just finished reading Late To The Ball by Gerald Marzorati, a former editor of the New York Times Magazine, in which he tells his story about taking up tennis in his early 60s and the lessons he learned, both in terms of technique/tactics and lessons about himself. I liked his book (and the clever title) very much. He started playing singles competitively but toward the end of the book he shifted to play doubles. He quotes an email from his wife on the differences between singles and doubles that I like.

“Singles is a fearsome struggle for independence at best; at worst it is a denial of the other’s humanity. But doubles is different. A devoted team can help each other grow so much. You’re talking about fellowship, and the delicate, intricate, wondrous balance between autonomy and dependency.”

I think her description of the dynamics of doubles actually applies to relationships in general whether it’s friendships, family or marriages.

I also think her depiction of singles is a bit harsh. I’m sure many people who play competitive singles do indeed want to impose their will on their opponent. I lean more toward Tim Gallwey’s idea that a goal of playing tennis, whether it’s singles or doubles, is to bring out the best in yourself. To do that you need the best from your opponent. Therefore playing ultimately is a cooperative exercise. I figure if you’re playing on the professional circuit your goal is strictly to win, rise in the rankings and make enough money to survive, without being concerned how your opponent feels about losing. The same for playing in USTA amateur leagues and tournaments. Yet, I noticed at the very top of the pro ranks (Djokovic, Nadal, Federer and Murray) there is mutual respect and appreciation for a well-played match. Even in the mixed doubles USTA matches I played this winter (for the first time in my tennis career at the age of 65!), there usually is mutual respect. Most of my opponents were fair and friendly. A few resorted to gamesmanship in an attempt to get into my head. (Good luck finding anything in there!) But overall all four of us on the court were looking for a competitive, well-fought match.

Getting back to Marzorati book, you could also take the title to mean arriving late to a ball as in a formal dance party. Whether or not this double meaning was intentional I’d say the second meaning of the “ball” is appropriate too. Playing tennis can be thought of as a dance.

Chi Running: How It Has Helped Me After Major Knee Surgery

In the fall of 2002 I was playing in a men’s Sunday morning soccer game. While playing outside left fullback a ball was struck in my direction but was way over my head. I thought I could head it by jumping. No dice. The ball was so far over my head I would have needed a ladder. As I came down my leg was straight and my body was turning. My cleat did what it’s supposed to do and firmly grounded my left foot. Unfortunately the rest of my body turned and put a lot of pressure on my straight leg. An explosion of pain rippled up through my leg and I landed on my side writhing in agony.

To make a long story short an MRI revealed that I had blown the ACL, MCL and PCL. Plus a hamstring detached as well as the muscle bundle at the top of the fibula. I ended up having 6 hours or surgery to install cadaver ligaments and to reattach the muscles. The surgeon also had to sever my quadriceps to repair something behind it. I had to wait a month before starting the 7 months of PT to ensure that the reattached muscles were grafting back to the bone. In addition, the surgeon told me that the replacement MCL couldn’t be made as tight as factory-installed MCL so my leg has a slight instability even with the strengthening exercises I did and continue to do. I need to wear a custom-made ACL brace for tennis, refereeing soccer and skiing. But at least I can continue to do them!

Why am I telling this story? To talk a little about a running technique that I found during my rehab. I found that traditional running where the heel hits first put a lot of pressure on my repaired knee even with the brace. I happened to be at a party shortly after my rehab was completed and started talking to a fellow who was a fellow technique geek. He told me about the Pose method of running which uses a different running technique. When I read the book on it I happened to stumble on ChiRunning and Danny Dreyer’s book and DVD on this. http://www.chirunning.com/ I’m probably not doing ChiRunning justice in my description of the method involves having the landing leg staying under the body as opposed to reaching out and landing on the heel. My landing foot stays directly below my center of gravity. It also involves leaning my body forward so that it almost feels like I’m falling. My lower legs lift behind me almost as though I'm trying to kick myself in the rear.

I’m not guaranteeing I’m doing the ChiRunning 100% correct. But I can say that what I’m doing now has helped significantly reduce the pain in my leg while also lessening the pounding my body feels. It also seems to take less effort to run this way.

Inner Game of Tennis - 40th Anniversary: Some Thoughts

Tennis magazine recently ran an article on the 40th anniversary of The Inner Game of Tennis. While I’ve been a big fan of Inner Tennis I have to admit that I still struggle knowing exactly how to apply Gallwey's ideas or if I’m even interpreting them correctly. I recall that he tells stories in his book how he helped beginners learn how to play by not doing what traditional coaches do. I know he believes traditional coaching has players over-focus on the details of the mechanics. I recall Gallwey had the student watch him execute, say, a forehand several times then had them do it. Or he has the student swing in front of a mirror. While I think Gallwey’s approach is valid I also think there is time when it is appropriate to be aware of the mechanics and work on them until they become automatized.

Here is a recent personal example. I’ve noticed that the many of the pros hit the ball on their groundstrokes with their racket tilted slightly forward by several degrees at impact. This produces a somewhat flatter shot but still with topspin. So I started trying it by consciously setting my racket with a slight forward tilt. Eventually I didn’t have to think about doing it; it became automatic.

In his second book on inner tennis Gallwey even mentions the idea of not consciously choosing targets but letting the Self 2 figure out where to put the ball. I do apply this especially on certain shots. The one that comes to mind is when I’m on the ad court in doubles and the cross court opponent is coming to the net. One of my favorite shots is to hit a short crosscourt ball that just clears the net then dips sharply and lands in the outside alley. Yet I can’t describe exactly what I’m doing different with my stroke to make the ball to that. I just know that’s what I want to do and let the rest happen. If I think about how to make that stroke I’m more likely to miss. Maybe that’s an application of Inner Tennis.

The compromise I’ve developed is when I’m trying a new tweak to a technique I’ll focus on it until it becomes automatic. If I’m not working on any technique in particular I then focus on weight transfer, the point of impact and trying to watch the ball hit the strings from behind the racket (i.e. looking at the impact point through the strings). My tendency is to let the ball come in too close. One of these days I’ll get it right! ;-)