The Theory of Exaggeration

Tennis is a unique sport in so many ways. Being an individual sport makes it highly mental, as there is no contact between the opponents, both players are never on the same side of the court, and the battle is more tactical and psychological.

A tennis player, unlike in team sports, cannot play the clock when leading. He/or she actually needs to win the last point. Therefore, a player never knows how long a match is going to last when walking onto a tennis match. Another major difference between tennis and 99 percent of other sports is that coaching is not allowed during matches (except in Davis Cup, Fed Cup and college tennis). This means that, as a coach, my work is basically done once the match starts. The player must learn to deal with varying scenarios from a young age.

The coach's job is to send the player to tournaments equipped with the right tools, both technically, tactically, physically and mentally. It is obvious that there is a huge difference between practices and real matches. Certain players play great in practice and choke in real tournaments, while others are mediocre in practice, but bring out their best when it counts.

In professional team sports, playing games consistently will keep you in shape for the season. Most of the practice sessions during the playing season between games are used for rest and light training. In tennis, if you only played matches, you would find yourself out of shape in a few weeks (unless you reached the finals every week). Tennis players need to constantly keep working out on the court between matches and during tournaments just to maintain the level of stamina and explosiveness required to compete at a high level. Being out of shape and not sharp for a match will cost not only victories but may also cause injuries.

The length of tennis matches can be a bit deceiving. During a three-hour match, the actual playtime is about 20-25 minutes. The time consists of "dead time,” as there is, on average, 25 seconds between every point and 90 seconds or so every two games. In fact, many of the points end with a service winner or after two or three shots, especially on fast surfaces. The average point of a tennis match is not very long.

The extreme fatigue from playing tennis comes from mental stress and from having to play multiple matches a day over a period of a few days in a row. To be able to recover from each match and perform without the body falling apart requires a very high level of fitness, and that is acquired only by practicing harder than in a real match. For that reason, I developed the “Theory of Exaggeration.”

When I was a 12-year-old, I had the privilege of meeting the great Jimmy Connors who came to Israel for an exhibition. He asked me how many hours a day I trained, and I told him four to five hours per day. When I asked him the same question, he answered that he played one hour in the morning and one hour in the afternoon.

"But,” Connors added, "My one hour is worth more than your four hours because I run down every ball and I never stop moving my feet during the entire hour.”

A few years later, I was fortunate enough to be on the pro tour and had the chance to train with Connors a few times, and I found out firsthand that he was not kidding. From the minute that we started playing, Connors was on top of every ball. We both hardly missed, and when we played a set, we were constantly running to pick up balls between the points. This way of training does a few things to your game. You simply hit more balls in a shorter amount of time. That is basic math. The other benefit is that you become used to always playing with your heart rate a bit higher than you would in a real match which raises your stamina.

After playing with Connors a few times, I adopted this method of working, and as a coach, I implemented his theory on a daily basis both in my junior program and in my private lessons.

The Theory of Exaggeration is heavily influenced and based on the great Albert Einstein's Theory of Relativity. When asked to explain his theory to the simple man, Einstein once gave the following example: “If you are sitting on a porch for 10 seconds drinking a glass of lemonade, it would seem to you like it is a very short time, but if you put your hand on a burning stove those 10 seconds would seem like a very long time."

The logic behind the theory in the tennis context is: If you make your practice sessions more intense and condensed than a real match, a real match would seem like a walk in the park.

The theory is implemented into all aspects of the session. For example, in a real match, you take a 90-second break every two games. With my advanced students, they never rest during sets. I try to make them play without a break for 15-20 minutes at a time, and if they take a drink break, I make sure that it is a short one.

When it comes to technique, I will insist that the players emphasize their follow-through and finish the shot with a longer contact, swinging freely all the way through the ball, while keeping their eyes on the ball "Federer style." The same goes for bending their knees on low balls. Nobody likes to do that, but I will make them hit and bring their knee all the way down to the floor, in an exaggerated fashion. This is taking into consideration the fact that, during a real match, many shots are hit off balance and on the back foot. There is a natural tightness in the strokes that occurs in official matches that makes us become tentative and less fluid.

The same goes for style of play. Many players tend to get a bit cautious and passive when they play a tournament match. Therefore, I always encourage my students to play ultra-aggressive in practice matches. I make them play closer to the baseline and take the ball on the rise at all times during practice, knowing that when in a real match, they take a step back from the baseline and will feel like that guy Einstein described as sitting on the porch drinking lemonade.

The Theory of Exaggeration/Relativity works in reality. This I know for a fact, not only from my 18 years of teaching experience, but also from my own personal experiences as a pro player.

When I was near the end of my pro career, way past my prime, I made the main draw of a tournament in Saint Polten, Austria. The tournament was on red clay, my least favorite surface. In fact, I didn't play on clay for a year before that event. But I got into the main draw and flew to Austria with very low expectations.

When I arrived at the club house, the first person I saw was Thomas Muster, who was, at the time, the best player in the world on red clay. Muster is my age and we knew each other from playing in our youth. I told him that I had not played much on clay in a while, and that I could use some high level practice. He was nice enough to let me practice with him for a few days. In the next three days leading up to the event, I had six practice sessions with Muster (two a day). Each session was two-and-a-half-hours and we did exactly the same thing in every session—we hit some cross-courts, then switched to a cross-court/down the line movement drill, hit a bucket of serves and played a couple of sets. There was nothing fancy about the sessions, but they were relentless, without breaks and I had to keep up with the level of play and physical intensity of one of the top five clay court players of all time.

I won my first round match 6-1, 6-1 against a player who came through the qualifying rounds. Relative to Muster, that player's pace, intensity and general level seemed like I was playing a junior player. Furthermore, in the morning before my second round match, I warmed up with Muster again and went on to beat Carlos Costa who was seeded second in the tournament and was ranked 11th in the world at the time. That was my best career win on clay. Compared to Muster, even Costa, who was a great player, seemed beatable and human, and I managed to just barely beat him thanks to having practiced at a much higher level than I was accustomed to. Unfortunately, I couldn't have Thomas Muster as my regular practice partner on a regular basis.