Lessons Learned While Playing Tennis

Sometimes, as a coach, you can run out of instruction. How many times can you give the same old lesson. Things can get a little boring, both for the tennis teaching pro and the student.

When I run out of instruction, I have two back up plans. The first one is to physically demonstrate to the players what I want them to do, and the second one is to tell them stories about my experiences as a tour player and what I learned from it. It can be a nice change of pace during the session to take two to three minutes and tell them a story that has taught me something about the game. After all, you cannot replace experience. I have found that kids love those stories. In this article, will tell a few stories that have a point and are experiences to learn from.

Maintain quality and intensity in your practice
When I was 12-years-old, I had the privilege of meeting the great Jimmy Connors. He came to play an exhibition in my hometown of Tel Aviv, and I was chosen to be one of the ball boys. Connors asked me how many hours I played each day, and I answered five to six hours. In return, I asked Mr. Connors how many hours he, as the number one player in the world at the time, played each day. He replied, “One in the morning and one in the afternoon.”

“What?” I replied.

He put his arm around me and said, “Kid, my one hour is worth more than your six hours because I never stop running during practice, I try for every ball; I step into every shot; and I don’t ever take breaks. Trust me, you don’t need more than one hour twice a day.”

A few years later, I joined the tour as a pro and played against Connors a few times, and also had the pleasure of training with him several times. He was not kidding!

Jimmy could have been joking around and was relaxed until the moment we stepped on the court. But as soon as we started the session, it was all business—no resting except a quick sip of water every 20 minutes. Only three balls were in play, and if you miss (and you better not have), you had to run to get the balls. When we played sets, we were running to pick up balls and running to the other side when we switched sides. By far, it was the most intense one-hour practice I have ever had. That regiment helped Jimmy Connors last 21 years on the tour and win 109 titles in his career, more titles than any man alive (more on title 109 later). I adopted that mentality as a player, and have been trying to preach it as a coach.

I am not encouraging kids to play for more than two hours in a row. I believe that if you train with the right intensity, even two hours is too much, but you have to go all out. I don’t like to see kids train on cruise control, it’s less effective in my opinion.

If you have a short ball and your opponent is at the net, the best way to win the point is to go right at your opponent
I learned this lesson the hard way. In 1987, I finally made it to my first Wimbledon in the main draw. On the day before the event, they allow all players in the draw to hit for one hour on the brand new courts, it’s a great pleasure to play on the virgin courts, and I was assigned to play on the court with none other than number one-ranked Ivan Lendl.

I was a rookie and was excited of course, but was not aware of Lendl’s sense of humor. During one point that we played, I came to the net and popped a short volley for a sitter, Lendl ran around his backhand and ripped a forehand right into my stomach which sent me down to the floor as he was laughing.

"Bloomie, sorry to hit you, nothing personal, but it is the safest way to win the point", Lendl explained.

He continued, “If I went to either corner, you would have had a 50-50 chance to guess where I was going, but if I go to the middle and hit it right at you, I will win the point for sure plus I’m sending a message to the guy across the net, just don’t forget to say sorry," he added as he raised his racquet to apologize.

I have used this many times in my career and it won me a lot of points and some dirty looks from opponents as well, but when you are playing to win, it’s a legitimate way to win the point.

Never lose your cool no matter what
In 1987, I made my first quarterfinal on the tour in Brussels, Belgium and drew Mats Wilander, ranked second in the world at the time. I lost in three sets and Mats didn’t play his best tennis in that match. During one point, we were both close to the net and Mats had the easiest put away volley that you could imagine. But somehow, this great player who won seven Grand Slams and was number one in the world managed to miss it. I will never forget what followed. As the crowd was murmuring in amazement at the sight of this miss, everyone was watching Wilander to see his reaction. I was just three-feet away and I too was wondering what he was going to do.

Here is what Mats did … absolutely nothing! Not one muscle in his face moved, he paused for a second, gave me a blank look, turned around and got the ball from the ball boy, went on to beat me and then beat John McEnroe in the semis, and Andres Jarid in the finals to win the tournament. I may have lost, but I learned.

Never give up
As a child, my coach always told me to never give up and fight for every point no matter what the score was. I was a good listener and that mentality won me a lot of matches coming from behind. The most memorable one was a match I had in the 1990 Australian Open against Christian Bergstrom from Sweden.

It was a second round match and Begstrom, who was a top 20 player at his peak, was toying with me for two and a half sets, winning the first two sets and leading 4-1 in the third set with two breaks and five game points to go up 5-1. I basically had one foot in the locker room, but I was trained to fight until the end, no matter what the score was, so I just kept trying. At that point, I was telling myself to try to win a few more games just so the score was not too embarrassing. After winning that long game and getting to 4-2, I noticed that Bergstrom didn’t look so good. What followed was a total collapse of the Swede, resulting in me winning the set 6-4 and winning the next two sets 6-2, 6-2 en route to a third round meeting with Yannick Noah.

That long game at 4-1 down proved to be the turning point, and my coach was right! That match taught me that you always have to fight in order to give your opponent a chance to choke, screw up or cramp in this case, and you never know when that moment will come. Bergstrom was the better player that day, but I was the fitter player who didn’t give up.

Mix up the pace of the ball
In 1988, I played the Tournament of Champions in Forest Hills N.Y., former site of the U.S. Open. My second round match was against Richie Renenberg. Everyone knew that Richie had a great backhand, and the plan was to play to his forehand and apply pressure on that shot.

The plan worked in the first set, which I won, but in the second, I kept hitting to his forehand and he started to punish me with winner after winner. His forehand was not a weakness anymore, as he hit too many forehands and got into a nice groove.

As I went to towel off on the side of the court, I was looking at my mentor Dick Savitt (a Wimbledon and Australian Champ in 1951) who was sitting on the sideline. I said to him, “I keep hitting to his forehand, but it’s not working anymore.”

He replied, “Mix it up, you are only hitting high top spins.”

The score was 1-1 in the third set, and as soon as I started to mix up my shots and throw a few low slices his way, Renenberg started to miss and I won 6-1 in 10 minutes. It was amazing to me that such a subtle adjustment made such an impact on my opponent’s game.

Today, I use the mix up when I play the younger generation. The kids hate it when I mix it up, it throws them off, and I encourage them to do it to their opponents.

It’s all mental
In 1989, I had a long year, having played about 35 events. By November, I was burned out and could not wait for the year to end. I couldn’t even look at a tennis court!

I was in Brazil with my coach, and we had one more tournament to play in Sao Paolo. I had to play the tournament in order to get a small bonus, but my mind was already in vacation mode. The night before, we both went out to celebrate and the coach said, “For me, the year is over, we can party tonight, you can go tomorrow and play the match without pressure because we are flying straight to Rio to hang out on the beach as soon as you lose the match.”

My game plan for that match was very simple: Hit freely, go for winners, and do not worry about a thing, especially the score. I went to the game without a warm up and a loose smile on my face. To this day, it was the best tennis match I ever played in my entire life, winning 6-2, 6-1. I went for winners off of my opponent’s first serve and it worked. I went for my first serve and my second serve. I went for everything and it was breathtaking. My coach was laughing hysterically on the sideline and my opponent, who was an American rookie fresh off a run in the collegiate ranks, was in a state of shock. It was opposite to my usual style of play and my usual temperament.
“I never thought that tennis like that was even possible,” my opponent said to me after we shook hands and I apologized for the ridiculous match I just played.

After the match, I was so excited and told my coach that from now on, I’m just going to go for broke. It was so liberating not to think about anything, just to play.

In the next round, I continued this new approach and won the first set, but then fatigue set in. I started to come down to Earth and all of the low percentage shots started to go into the net or sail long. Before I knew it, I was back to being a burned out player that had a long season and needed a break. By the end of the match, which I lost and was on the verge of being defaulted because I was a mental wreck, all of that looseness was not really working for me. The lesson I learned was that it’s not enough to put up the physical effort, as there has to be a mental effort and a thought process to playing this game.

Don’t celebrate before the match is over (back to Jimmy Connors)
In 1989, I reached my first ATP Tour final in a tournament in Tel Aviv, held in the club where I first picked up a racquet at the age of nine. The setting was perfect, the stadium was full of my hometown fans and my opponent was the legendary Jimmy Connors. I got off to a dream start, winning the first set 6-2, and was up 1-0 in the second set. As I was sitting down and looking at the surroundings, I started to calculate how many points I will earn in this tournament, how much money I was going to make, and exactly what I was going to say in my victory speech. I thought I had the match won, but Connors had other plans. Jimmy meant business, and from that point on, raised his level of play and started to attack my second serve. Before I knew it, I was holding the runner-up trophy and Connors lifted his 109th trophy for the final title of his career. I learned my lesson, and at least I made the history books!

Always trust your instincts
In 1990, I reached my second ATP Tour finals, this time, against Pete Sampras on the grass in Manchester, England. During the tournament, I had my coach give me signals before the serves, telling me where to serve, kind of like a catcher in baseball. It was great not having to think that much. I went with his calls and our system got me all the way to the finals.

Against Sampras, both sets went to a tie-breaker, and there were no breaks the whole match. At 9-8 for me in the first set tie-breaker, I had an opportunity to serve at set point from my favorite ad side (I’m a lefty). The whole set, I was using the lefty wide serve with great success. The coach wanted the wide serve on that crucial point, but my gut instinct was that Pete would wait for it and that this might be the right time to go down the middle. But I went with the coach’s decision and it turned out that I was right—Sampras was waiting for that serve and hit a backhand winner for the only time in the set. The next thing I remember was me holding the runner-up trophy and saying to myself that I should have trusted my instincts. That was one pretty expensive lesson.