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Category: Commentary

  • Encountering MIB right in his Michigan Backyard

    The occasion of my family’s 2025 reunion presented an irresistible opportunity. With a little tweaking of flights, rental car and hotel we found ourselves in South Eastern Michigan with the Man in Black himself.

    Looking south from the roof top of Plaza La Reina.

    The last time the two of us shared a little time we found ourselves on the rooftop of Plaza la Reina in Westwood. The MIB had been generous enough to stay over an extra day so we could play tennis on my birthday. Plus, he got to have breakfast at Henri in Canoga Park, but that is a story for another day.

    I think the last time I was in Metro Detroit I was a little kid and my family was on its way to Windsor Ontario and points further east. This time the focus was on MIB’s and his home in Farmington Hills. After we got in town, MIB generously asked if we wanted to go to Ann Arbor.

    “Fuck no, brother. This trip is all about spending time with MIB in his native habitat.”

    Just when you thought it was safe to step onto a tennis court with a confident stride, you see the MIB looking over the net at you. He’s a great player to warm up with. He likes to start close to the net, refamiliarizing his racket and hands to the variety of shots he likes to play. Then we hit soft volleys back and forth. Then we worked our way back toward the baseline and started to rally. That’s when the MIB Effect starts to take hold. It often seems like his feet don’t interact with the ground with the full force of gravity, he moves with such great ease. His strokes are fine, especially on the angles, but it’s always his footwork that is so fun to watch and listen to. Even the squeek of his Nike Air Zoom Vapor Cage 4 occurs at a higher pitch and amplitude than normal. I especially enjoyed returning serve from MIB (a minor strength of my game). In the end, though, playing with MIB is a reminder of the harsh differential between our games. Still, it was a lot of fun.

    I thought about what it was like to play with MIB all the way home to Los Angeles. I knew there was no hope of reducing the differential to zero. Then again, that was never the goal. What I wanted to do was identify as many things as I could to improve in the specific areas that playing with MIB had exposed. So, I did what I always do. I asked my coach, Caesar, he with the unlimited answers to my limitless questions about tennis.

    The first thing he said was to focus my attention on the racket of my opponent rather than simply on the ball as it crossed over the net and onto my side of the court. Caesar told me that would help me to identify the kind and the pace of the shot that was likely to be coming my way. That awareness was the first step in preparing for the shot I would need to play very, very soon.

    Then he told me of the benefit to moving quickly early and slowing down into the shot. “Bad players are constantly running and stopping. Good players flow to the ball and flow toward their next shot,” he said. Of course, my coach had told me this many times before. But this time it was more urgency and relevant since I’d recently learned I was working too hard creating too little effective movement.

    It came as no surprise that three days hanging with the MIB was just not enough. No sooner than we touched down at DTW it felt like we were on our way home. Though time was far too short, I’m glad we made the trip and look forward to sharing a tennis court with MIB again. I will be a little better prepared when that day comes.

  • Technical Tennis: Racquets, Strings, Balls, Courts, Spin And Bounce By Rod Cross & Crawford Lindsey

    I bought this book solely to take advantage of free shipping at Tennis Warehouse. Remember readers, you have to spend money to save money. The book is superb, though perhaps mostly of interest to people like me who are intrigued by the technology, or what’s represented as technology, in tennis. I’ve spent my first year and a half in tennis trying different rackets and strings (not to mention grips and overgrips). At no time have I gotten the sense a given racket made or kept me from being a better player.

    I have developed preferences that remain fairly consistent. The first is for a racket with a head size of 98 square inches. The second is for polys that are not strung too tight, always less than 50 pounds. Finally, I trend away from rackets designed to aid in power because, for all of my faults and weaknesses in tennis, I do not suffer from a lack of power.

    Back to Cross & Lindsey’s book. Check out this quote:

    TENSION AND PLAYER PERCEPTIVENESS
    Virtually every player assumes that he can tell the difference between different tensions. Some claim to be able to identify a difference of a pound or two. Tests have been performed that bring that claim into question. In a test of 41 advanced recreational players, only 11 (27 percent) could determine a difference of 11 pounds or less. In fact, 15 (37 percent) couldn’t correctly identify the difference even when the tension between two racquets varied by 22 pounds. A small number were able to discern a two-pound difference, however. Players were not allowed to touch the strings or vibrate them to guess tension, and each racquet had a vibration dampener to take away auditory cues.

    Using earplugs to further dampen auditory cues lowered the success rates even more. Players were only allowed four hits with each racquet, so the only data the player was interpreting was feel, not an accumulated history of location of ball placement that could be used to deduce string tension. Some players said that they noticed a difference, but then incorrectly chose which racquet had a higher tension.

    Auditory cues are huge but they’re not often a subject of conversation with most players so quick and confident to identify what they feel about string tension. I recall a similar test relating to golf. Many players reported that they prefered the feel of putters made from this material or that. But, when they wore earplugs they couldn’t differentiate even the most dissimilar materials or even construction techniques.

    For me the question is this: Thinking of the average player is it beneficial to believe in the benefit of this string over that string, this tension over that or this racket over another? To jump ahead, I think using the correct racket (correct as regards weight, head size, stiffness) is very important for new, especially young, players. What I’m asking concerns average adult players. My experience leads me to conclude that it can be entertaining but is largely a waste of time for recreational players to believe that the right (or wrong) racket or string will relevantly affect their games.

    With that said, identifying preferences is fine but I contend that mine have little affect on my game, and that’s Ok. I still like what I like. As they saying goes, you can either use the racket you like or the racket someone else likes. Just make sure to keep your focus on your game and not your strings and racket. By the way, I’m not done writing about this book. It’s much too interesting so stay tuned. Tt

  • A second serve…finally.

    A couple weeks back I was lucky enough to catch a couple lessons with Laura Sax at Del Norte in Sacramento. Laura is a super tennis coach. I always try to show up with a specific issue so my lessons with her can exist in kind a parallel universe to what Caesar and I continue to work on.

    As we drove from Los Angeles I tried to come up with something. What I finally came up with was my need for more consistency when I’m serving. So, Laura asked to see me hit a few serves.

    She said, “Those are kinda Ok. Lotsa pace. Now, show me your second serve.”

    I looked down at the court and sighed, “I don’t have one.”

    Laura said, “Well, show me what your second serve would look like if you actually had one.”

    I sighed again.

    Then, I hit something like a flat serve with the pace turned down. It hit the net with authority. Kind of…

    Laura said, “Ok, follow me up to the net.”

    Over the next few minutes she had me first hit the ball over the net with the edge of the frame while choking up on the racket. That’s not as easy as it sounds, by the way. Then, Laura had me hti the ball over the net with only a downward snap of the wrist. As with an overhead, this was done without the arm or torso bending forward, or following through. A secondary object of the game was to have the ball hit inside the service box, so a distinctly downward strike was in order.

    It was kinda fun. I spent much of the rest of the lesson hitting those spikes from the net and out toward the back of the service box on my side of the net. It wasn’t until Laura had me back up to the baseline that I saw the point of the entire exercise. I was hitting a slice!

    Who knew?

    As the racket snapped, it also rotated left with the ubiquitous pronation that everyone is so excited about. The force of the strike was a combination of the wrist snap multiplied by the racket’s rotational energy. The result, when the ball was struck as the racket was driving forward but still not completely open (read: flat), was a serve with rotation that curved it left (from me) a right handed player.

    I’m not very bright so it was not until that very minute that I understood what the totality of the exercise was about. As I said, Laura is a fantastic coach.

    On the long drive home I tried to reimagine the movements and, more importantly, the feelings of my two lessons with Laura. I had a fairly decent grasp of what I was trying to achieve but as with all things tennis the goal was fogged by age and lack of significant athletic ability. Still, when I got home I could still feel it although I was triyng to hit the ball too hard (don’t I always?).

    Then I remembered something else Laura said. She said that when serving the wrist should be completely at ease and the racket held with the very lightest of grip.

    Now, let me tell you why this made sense:I have always, and I mean always, since the time of my first serve, had a difficult time warming up with my serve. I can throw a baseball softly enough that a newborn could catch it with his offhand (Ok, maybe that’s an exageration) but you get the idea. In contrast, I have a very difficult time warming up to serve. My motion, and the overall pace of my early serves are, far too fast and too hard. Who knows why?

    But, when I deliberately keep my arm, wrist and elbow relaxed I can hit early serves at Speed 1 and then Speed 3 and so on. It is almost as if I can coordinate the speed better because I am managing the tension (or lack) in my serve (note that I do not write, hitting) arm. Simple, but remember that simple does not always equal easy. Perhaps it never does.

    Then, and I hope this doesn’t appear to suplant Laura’s contribution but I stumbled on this video by Patrick Mouratoglou. The looseness or softness is counterintuitive to someone like me who was born to throw a baseball (5.25 ounces at the end of the fingertips) rather than strike a tennis ball (2 ounces, plus or minus) overhead and with an added 27 inches of the racket.

    Yes, it’s still (obviously) a striking motion but a very different one.

    So, there I am and happy to be there. I have been playing tennis since September of 2023 and I now have a developing the tiny bud of a second serve. Now that wasn’t so hard, now, was it? Tt

  • Let’s GoPro!

    I just bought a LN GoPro Hero 10. It should be here, well, I’m not sure when. The purchase was somewhere between an impulse buy and a planned purchase.

    Let’s Go…Pro!

    It’s planned from the standpoint that my only current remaining camera is attached to my aged iPhone 11. My Nikon D300 mini-rig is living out its retirement in Michigan and being gently cared for by the MIB. My loyal, if lake-water-challenged, Panasonic Lumix LX3 is vacationing there, too.

    So, I’ve been looking for a no-frills, rugged, very compact go-anywhere camera, preferably with a fixed lens. I just don’t seem to take P&S cameras along enough. They always seem a bit flimsy (motorized lens) while the D300 always seemed overly bulky, because it was.

    I’ve also been looking for a way to record the horror show I call my tennis serve. Sure, I could bolt my iPhone to the fence but something about that doesn’t appeal to me. It took a while but the idea that a GoPro could address both issues came all at once. From a still-photo perspective, the ability to extract still images from a video at full resolution seemed like a real plus.

    As with all things, we will see. Tt

  • The Cancha BBB has landed!

    Ok, the BBB (Big Black Bag) is not really called the Big Black Bag. Man, you guys are sticklers. It’s called the Racquet Bag Pro and it’s on sale right now. I was excited to get the BBB, sorry, the Racquet Bag Pro to see how much progress Cancha has made since they made my bag, the now-discontinued Original Racquet Bag.

    The BBB and my beloved Original Cancha

    But, the problem is I am more of a small-bag kind of guy. Think of me as a tennis bag minimalist. Marie Kondo would approve, I’m sure. The good new is the Man in Black is a big-bag kind of guy, so I’ve seen the new Cancha to him. If I know the MIB, and I do, he’ll put the Racquet Bag Pro through its paces and then some.

    My own observations about the Racquet Bag Pro are that is a much-refined bag compared to my Original. Material quality seems of the same quality and maybe even a bit more substantial. Everything seems well considered. Note how the horizontal carrying strap is angled. That makes the bag naturally easier to carry and lift without the bag feeling unwieldy. It’s and smart and logical feature. Now ask yourself why more companies don’t think of making their bags like this.

    Interesting that even the BBB’s cross-section is larger than the Original’s

    I’ve made it a mission of mine to fully utilize the Cancha’s attachment points. The company refers to them as RF Bonded Hypalon Molle Patches for Add-on Accessories.

    Uh, yeah. Me? I’ve never used or even heard the term Molle Patch until after I purchased my Original Cancha. So, I started to research them. What I found were a lot of companies using the word Molle to describe a variety of very similar products, respective to their function. I have to admit I hoped Molle would be a more general ecosystem rather than one, primarly, suited to other products from the same company.

    In other words, I dig Molle conceptually but have yet to make them quite as useful as I hope to in the future. For a while, I saw my Original Cancha as a do anything-bag if I could utilize its Molle attachment points to add space for shoes and clothes, when needed. At the time, Cancha Wet-Dry Bag was on backorder and I was getting ready to take a trip. I fantasized about modifying a generic shoe bag with Molle but I hit a lot of road blocks. I know. I should just buy the Cancha Wet-Dry bag. But I thought I was so, so clever that I could find an effective work around.

    Anyway, I’m excited to get MIB’s take on the BBB and to see his video review. From where I sit, Cancha has another winner here. Will the other bag companies catch up? I’m not sure they’re even trying. Tt

  • The Barking Tennis Coach

    I was practicing my serve at the local park when I overheard a coach on the adjoining court tell her student something to help her feel the correct move to the trophy position.

    “Take your arm up with the racket facing somewhat forward and somewhat down. So, as you go up the lid is closed. Then, as your arm goes up, you open the lid going back and then close the lid as the racket moves forward to strike the ball.”

    The lid is closed going up…

    That, of course, reminds me of Andy Roddick. Like I wrote in Tennis thing, the book, Roddick’s motion appeals to me.

    It’s short, purposeful and has no extra movement.

    But, back to the coach. I figured it would be good to get her contact info in case I wanted to grab a lesson with someone who sees the serve like I do, so close to home. So, I sat in the bleachers editing a short story I’m working on. The coach and the student continued to work, alternating between rallying and the student serving, or trying to serve, to the pro.

    Finally, the pro said, “Let me serve to you. Go ahead and return my serve if you can but mostly I want you so watch my motion. Watch the lid open and close.”

    Then I heard what sounded like a yelping dog. Since there’s a dog park near the courts I looked up to see what happened. But, then I realized the sound came from the other way.

    It came from the coach.

    Yup, the coach barked like a dog when she served.

    Nope, she wasn’t kidding.

    Nope, I didn’t stick around to get her contact info.

    Yep, I’m glad a dog didn’t get hurt.

  • From one-handed to two-handed and probably not back.

    Those of you who’ve read Tennis thing know I started out tennis with a two-handed backhand. My coach Caesar said, “I don’t care what you do after you’ve played for a year but I’d like you to start out hitting your backhand two-handed.”

    I was game but I soon found the two-hander less than pleasant. During my third or fourth lesson I asked if I could try to hit my backhands with one hand. Caesar patiently showed me the basics (he plays a one-hander) and I soon found the whole deal more intuitive and less physically challenging. The one-hander also helped to create a more effective shot. What’s not to like?

    “You hit a natural slice, mate. And, we’re going to build on it. We’ll add the topspin backhand when the time comes.”

    Justine Henin…accept no imitations.

    I was all in and began to informally curate a collection of the best one-handers I could find. My favorites, then and now, belong to Gregor Dimitrov, Stan Wawrinka, Roger Federer and the owner of the one-handed backhand of the gods, Justine Henin. If aesthetics matter, and they always do, there’s no comparison between the one and two-hander. As a wise person on the internet once said, “The two-hander has all the elegance of a monkey wrench.”

    Then, a couple things happened in a relatively close span of time. I managed to hurt my right wrist somehow. This happened about the same time as I began to learn and practice the topspin one-hander and exactly the same time I was hitting against the wall, a lot. The cherry on the sundae was Stew From Brisbane, my sometimes hitting partner whom I know from Brookside in Pasadena.

    To me, Federer’s backhand is second only to Henin’s.

    Stew’s 60, three years younger and leaner than me. He’s played for no less than 50 years and is a very solid player. Stew also likes to hit hard pretty much from the jump, which is not my style. He means no harm and I really like him. But, his shots to my backhand, especially the deep and high balls, ate my fledgling one-hander alive in addition to taxing my already-tender wrist.

    I did a little soul searching while I had a week off from my lessons with Caesar. By the time we were back at it I had decided to make the big switch to the two-hander.

    Before I did I conferred with the MIB himself back in Michigan. “Paulie,” MIB said. “I’ve tried going two-handed at least twice but I always go back.” Various internet gurus cautioned against making the switch especially for players who are older (40+, ha!) and who took up the game later in life.

    One guess who that describes…

    But, I did it anyway and it’s been fairly brutal. For me, the two-hander is an exceptionally difficult shot. Yes, high balls are somewhat easier but in total it’s a far harder shot from a purely physical standpoint. Sometimes, when I’m tired and the ball’s out wide, I will resort to my one-handed slice. Caesar always catches me and says the same thing. “Hitting your slice is Ok but start two-handed and go one-handed as your stroke begins going forward.”

    As if I have time to do all that.

    When my baseball career was on life support I made a last ditch effort to teach myself to hit left-handed. It wasn’t a bad idea. A lefty has a little bit of a head start to first and I thought it made me look like the kind of player who would try anything to be more versatile. It changed the way I saw the ball and I found power where I didn’t from the other side of the plate and lacked power where I had it as a right-handed hitter. It was weird, just like the two-handed backhand.

    Today is the first time I’ve put the sequence of the change and the factors that informed my switch together in my head. Don’t ask me why it’s taken me so long to see the threads. But, now that I have I think I will stick it out with the two-hander for now. I keep hoping for a breakthrough. Maybe next week or next month. Anything is possible.

  • Notes on a tennis coach

    I like taking tennis lessons from different coaches. My first coach will be my last coach, lord willing. Caesar Schwarz shepherded me into tennis and he continually guides and influences the development of my game, such that it is. He is both a fine teacher and a superb player.

    But, there have been others. Most have been good, one truly excellent. The best coaches read their students and think constantly of how best to impart what they know about tennis and maybe life.

    That’s obvious and sounds simple, but simple is not always easy. Today I was sitting on court waiting for my Monday hitting partner when the teaching pro on the other court started chatting with me. His student, who I’m guessing was eleven or twelve, was taking a quick breather. The kid looked good when he was working on his volleys. His backhand slice was especially tidy and well-controlled.

    The coach was a tennis player, through and through. Young, strong, tan, fit. He was dressed casually but not sloppily. Though the day was pure SoCal winter perfection, he wrapped a white towel over his head to protect from the sun. Only a real tennis player could pull that look off. I asked him if he usually taught there (a park in the Conejo Valley). “Nah, I usually teach at private courts. There are tons of good juniors out there. He’s not one of them,” he said with a wink and a tilt of the head.

    I felt bad for the boy with the nice slice volley. His coach, right or wrong, had betrayed him to a total stranger. I thought to myself that the coach just hadn’t been around enough to know when to hold his tongue, no matter if he was wrong or right.

    Later on I heard the coach talking about footwork to his next student. I didn’t get all of what he said but it was something about a Russian player he played against.

    “The Russians really teach footwork and a smart student will never forget. Once you have good footwork you can rely on it for the rest of your tennis life. You’ll never lose it.”

    I kinda wish I had heard the pro say that before I heard him diss his student. I might have tried to get a lesson from him.

    Tt

  • The smaller the ball the better the (sports) writing.

    I’m not sure who said that but I am fairly sure it’s true. The best sports writing is about golf, of this I think there’s little doubt. The reason for that is simple. Golf writing is either about hero worship, which never gets old, or tragedy, which also never gets old or both.

    Think about the boredom of writing about ordinary good golf:

    “And then our hero hit another ball into the middle of the fairway. Then he hit another ball into the middle of the green. Then he made another putt.”

    Now try this: “Our hero was nervous as he stood on the 10th tee, a tricky dogleg left. Memories of snap hooks into the woods bedeviled his mind as the wind swirled from right to left. He was already three shots behind the leaders with the hardest holes on the course still to be played. He hit a towering drive that was no more than ten feet left of his target line, but the wind freshened right at contact and the ball drifted left of the tree line before it vanished from view. Ten minutes later after having to strip down to his underwear in order to play his second shot from a pool of swamp water, the resulting ball miraculously caroming off a greenside tree into the center of the green, our hero unceremoniously sunk a ten-footer for birdie.”

    A tennis ball is a bit larger than a golf ball and my early reading suggests that writing on tennis is Ok, but surely not to the level of good golf writing. One problem, I think, is the nature of the action. Too little describable time passes between tennis shots to delve into a player’s mindset. But now I am getting caught on a tangent.

    I’m reading these three tennis books. In a couple weeks, I’ll review them. Technical Tennis is the most interesting, surprisingly, though the writing of David Foster Wallace’s String Theory is undeniably excellent and the story of Pancho Segura’s life in Little Pancho is as improbable as it is true.

    Tt