Just My Luck
How many times have you been on the tennis court when you hit an amazing, low-percentage winner that left everyone, including you, in disbelief? What was your reaction? Did you own it? Or did you tell everyone you just got lucky?
There are times when luck may facilitate the winning point during a tennis game--times when the ball spins off the rim of your racquet, sending it over the head of the other net player to land wide and deep in the court. Such mis-hits and their winning results are obviously unintentional, though welcomed.
However, I would like you to consider other winning shots you may have quickly attributed to luck, when in fact they were the result of the spin you put on the ball that helped it to roll over the net tape, the perfect lob you managed in desperation that cleared the net player and landed 3 inches inside the baseline, or the short angled ball you scrambled to reach and returned low over the net into the opponent’s short court with precision.
Were those winners simply due to luck? I tend to think they weren’t. In fact, I give luck very little credit most of the time. I believe that when we hit a ball, especially without thinking, automatically using technique we’ve trained, we create the outcome ourselves. Some might say we create our own luck.
Recently, I was advising players about what to do if their serves are repeatedly returned by the receiver’s cracking forehand that sends the ball ripping over the net to win the point. How do you take that shot away from your opponent? An obvious choice is to place your serve, either to the receiver’s backhand or straight to her body so she has to move out of the way in order to hit the ball.
One of the players took this suggestion to heart immediately and placed her serves with great accuracy, forcing her opponent to return the serve with her backhand. Afterwards, she came over to me, astonished by her success, and said, “I got lucky!” I disagreed and told her I didn't believe luck was involved. She argued, “But why I was able to place my serves today when I’ve not been able to do that in the past?”
I told her it probably happened because this time she trusted herself to execute her serve placement. She didn’t overthink it or allow doubt to impede her success.
If you’ve read my book, Gift of Tennis, you may remember the court thoughts, “Believe” and “Trust and Teamwork.” In them, I discuss how we set ourselves up to succeed if we believe we can do something. We must trust that what we’ve trained in practice will actually work in a match. We must allow our bodies to perform without overthinking each step of the shot.
I’m currently reading The Inner Game of Tennis by Timothy Gallwey. In it, the author discusses our two inner personas:
Self 1 (ego-mind) is our principal consciousness, responsible for directing our actions. It is also the inner critic, making us feel judged when we make an error and is responsible for overthinking when we are learning something new.
Self 2 (body) is the subconscious performer inside us, responsible for learning physical tasks such as learning to walk or executing a tennis serve. Some refer to Self 2 as our “muscle memory.”
With tennis, Self 1 has an important role, mainly to identify a shot to use and a target to aim for and then to ask Self 2 to execute it. Self 1 must trust Self 2 without micromanaging. If you have practiced something, allow Self 1 to be the observer. At this point, there is no need to consciously think through the steps the body goes through to execute the shot. Just let Self 2 make it happen.
In the case of the player today, she was able to place her serves because her Self 1 asked Self 2 to serve the ball to the receiver’s backhand, AND it trusted Self 2 to do so. Self 1 didn’t tell self 2 each step involved in the execution. It simply gave Self 2 the task and then stepped back to let it happen.
The mistake we often make is letting Self 1 interfere and control the execution, overthinking the task. This can often result in muscle tension which is counterproductive to good stroke execution.
Self 1 is also responsible for injecting doubt into performance. These negative thoughts can be distractions and inhibit Self 2’s execution.
Gallwey suggests that being successful on the tennis court boils down to the relationship we foster inside ourselves between our Self 1 and Self 2 personas. If Self 1 can encourage Self 2 without micromanaging, Self 2 will more likely succeed in a task, reinforcing the trust from Self 1.
I’m working to improve this relationship within myself. It’s been fascinating as Self 1 observes the learning process of Self 2. I’m astonished at how much credit Self 2 actually deserves, especially considering that I’ve traveled a long portion of my tennis journey with a dominant Self 1 leading the way, often overthinking the strokes I was learning. I’ve come to realize and appreciate that Self 2 is actually a very capable athlete. As a result, Self 1 is taking on the role of nurturer rather than critic.
My feeling is that, like many things we practice on the tennis court, this balanced relationship between Self 1 and Self 2 will empower me to be at peace when faced with a variety of situations I will encounter in the course of life. From what I’ve experienced so far, I anticipate greater success in what I do as I continue to trust my abilities.
Therefore, next time your ball rolls over the net tape and drops into the opponents’ court, own it as intentional. Give credit to your Self 2 persona who executed the shot using the topspin you’ve trained yourself to perform. Hopefully, your Self 1 will sit back and tell Self 2, “Good shot, well done!”
