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Tag: MIB

  • Old Pete likes to hit hard.

    Let me back up.

    Right around New Years I took a lesson from Chris Phelan, aka, Pro-To-Go in Palm Springs. At one point Chris met me at the net and said, “Look, you hit the ball great. You move Ok. But, you work too hard.”

    I admit it. I didn’t get it. In fact, I thought about it a great deal for the rest of our trip and after we got home. Gradually, very gradually, I came to understand. The point Chris was trying to make was, that at my level, what I needed to do is hit the ball deep, with top spin rather than always, or at least usually, putting great value on simply hitting the ball hard.

    Today I hit with Old Pete, an off and on student of Caesar.

    As we walked onto the court he said. “Listen, I like to hit hard.”

    I said, “Rock on, dude. Hit it as hard as you like.”

    And, he did.

    Chris Phelan in
    Palm Springs

    It took me about five minutes to find myself wondering what, exactly, was the point of relentlessly trying to hit the ball as Old Pete? I still do not have an answer but when I shared my experience with Chris he said: “Sad, but his loss. In the bigger picture, consistency equals a longer tennis life. Since no one enjoys self-destruction, the real fun is in developing a more versatile toolbox—one that includes a soft grip and relaxed wrist to get you out of trouble and make your opponent play one more ball, maybe one more than he’s able to return.”

    Sure, I am pointing the finger at Old Pete, and he deserves it. His style of play is neither effective nor enjoyable but if I am being honest, I’ve been guilty of something similar. It says something about me and my development as a tennis player that I didn’t get what Chris Phelan said when he said what he said back in January, in a sincere effort to help me play better tennis for longer.

    But now I do, and I’m happy about that and endlessly thankful to Chris Phelan. I can’t wait to get onto the tennis court with him again — maybe this fall. Maybe over the winter, it doesn’t matter.

    This time, I’m gonna get what he’s telling me without having to mull it over for a few weeks or a month.

    This time I will pay attention, Chris.

    I promise! Tt

  • More — always more — on rackets.

    As most of you know, I have only been playing tennis for three years. And, I didn’t start playing tennis until I was 62. I’ll be 65 later this month and I have been through a pretty good number of tennis rackets over that time. Honestly, my early preferences were based on brand and later on color and graphics. If you skip to the end you might conclude they still do.

    After a year or so I noticed I liked the look of 98 square inch heads. 98 square inches is a preference that has stood the test of time. Later, I noted a preference for rackets with a strung weight north of 320g that weren’t too stiff. Still later, I started to play more (currently four to five days a week) and in longer sessions with players who hit the ball harder. I remained dedicated to heavier rackets, which I found I swung more smoothly. 

    I have used rackets with grips sizes ranging from 1/4 to 3/8 and as small as 1/8. When confronted with the ubiquitous and simplistic ring finger measurement tool I measure at 3/8 but my palm is somewhat large for the length of my fingers so 1/4 is closer to ideal. I forgot, the first racket I bought was a Wilson Six.One One Hundred that was 1/2. My coach — taking pity on me for my unwise $35 purchase — expertly peeled off the original leather grip and put on two of his Tecnifibre over grips. He said of the leather grip, “Keep this. It’s in perfect shape.” Ah, the two over grips felt lots better!

    I wrote recently about MIB’s Wilson Shift — the one I put on a weight reduction program — and then found I liked. The Shift got me thinking of finding a racket of similar weight and stiffness but with a correct 1/4 grip size, preferably with a 98 square inch head. I found a cache of NOS Head Radical MP from God knows how long ago. Said to have a strung weight of 310g, it was promising and cost less than a $100 bucks delivered. It arrived strung with black Head SynGut. My initial thought was to have it immediately restrung with my second set of Head Lynx Power Soft Proto I picked up from TW for a buck a set. Then I reconsidered and I took the Radical out to hit a few serves. It feels just dandy, pretty much like every racket I’ve tried save an unfortunate few that shall remain nameless.

    I confess I may be largely insensitive to racket variations but I still have some favorites, spec wise, and I believe I’ve settled on a workable weight range. I think my ability or lack of same means I can play with a wide variety of rackets and be happy. That said, I enjoy trying different rackets in the same way I enjoy tasting different craft beers rather than continually ordering the same beers from the same breweries. Sometimes a different racket is simply enjoyable to look at. I could say the same about some beers, come to think of it.

    My age even more than my basic ability limits my top end in tennis, no matter how much I play or practice or learn about the tactics and strategy of the game. Or, even how much I love and enjoy the game. Still, I think it’s a good thing my rackets have started to measure and play more like each other. Plus, I dig my new Head’s paint job.

    NOS Radical MP

  • El Shifto: Saying goodbye to the Wilson Shift. We hardly knew you!

    My experience with the Wilson Shift started when I flew home from Detroit with MIB’s personal racket. I guess it wasn’t his personal racket if we are defining personal as the racket he was using at the time. Long story short, Jonas at tennisnerd steered MIB toward the Shift 99. I found it a rather odd suggestion, knowing MIB’s game first hand. At the same time, I was somewhat heartened MIB had reached out to someone for racket help when he already owned a fantastic tennis game, especially in doubles. As good as he is, MIB was still striving for improvement!

    By the time El Shifto (300G / 16×20) was in my hands it had been through some changes, courtesy of the MIB. It had a leather grip and a Tourna overgrip as well as significant quantities of lead tape at 3 and 9. It felt a little like the tennis racket equivalent of Manny Sanguillén’s bat from the 70s. If you don’t get the reference, oh well. The point is that MIB’s Shift was heavy.

    Me? I like a heavy racket as much as the next guy but Michael’s tuning of it felt more than a little off to me so bit by bit I undid what had been done. First to go was the lead tape. Then I lost the leather grip. That’s when things got wild. You see, MIB uses a 4 3/8 grip while I prefer a 4 1/4. My solution was to go Modified Djoker. I heard Novak Djokovic used two overgrips and no main grip. True? False? Who knows or cares? But I added a twist. I placed vertical strips of blue masking tape on the bare grip (five layers to be precise) and finished the grip with a single Yonex Super Grap Wet.

    Before I get to the results let me tell all of you who don’t know and, really, why would any of you know, I find the grip sizing system to be totally stupid. I think tennis grips should be sized by measured dimensions rather than a reference to something that’s actually not a reference but a simplistic effort at correlation, in this case a bizarre attempt at correlation between the length of one’s palm and the added length of their ring finger and the correct grip size.

    What?

    I’ve probably lost you by now and that’s Ok since this is my tennis fever dream. Back to the five layers of blue masking tape. Quality 3M masking tape actually builds up quite a bit of cushion, especially five layers of the stuff so once I had the Yonex overgrip installed the Shift’s grip felt pretty much like a 4 1/4 with nicely pronounced bevels.

    Voila!

    MIB’s El Shifto with a couple grams of lead tape in the throat now tips the scale to a svelt 310 grams.

    Not quite. But here’s the thing. El Shifto felt and played great. Even though at 310G strung it was my lightest racket it felt exceptionally solid on volleys and quite precise on groundies. My serve had great pop and El Shifto rewarded a smooth stroke, happy to do a good deal of the work for me. Notwithstanding my general disinclination against Wilson tennis rackets I have to say the modified El Shifto has become my favorite racket. It has me thinking about grabbing a Son of El Shifto or hunting down a Wilson Labs version. As if I need another tennis racket. Then, right as my enthusiasm for the Wilson Shift was in its ascendance I read that Wilson had ditched the racket for a yet unnamed successor. I say unnamed even though I’ve read rumors that Shift’s replacement will be called the Python.

    You know. Snakes. Tennis. Sure.

    This is what I don’t get. Wilson, by all indications, did a lot of work creating the Shift, similar to the effort put behind the development of the Clash. The Clash is now in Version 3 but Shift has been unceremoniously consigned to the ash heap of tennis racket history without the common courtesy of even a Version 2.

    Why?

    I’m sure Python or Viper or Garter Snake or whatever Shift’s successor is called will incorporate some and perhaps many of Shift’s innovations. Abandoning Shift bothers me as a marketer and I think it makes Wilson look bad, at least in my eyes. If they knew they had a good racket in the Shift, and they obviously did and likely still do, what’s the hurry to dump it? Is the Wilson Burn really flying off the shelves? I don’t think so.

    Maybe Wilson thinks the Shift is too close to the Clash, but I don’t think that’s correct. Obviously, the Blade V9 is a darling of the professional game for both women and men. For a while, the Ultra V5 with its flashy blue paint, looked like it was going to catch on for both pros and recreational players but its appeal to both sectors seems to have flattened somewhat.

    The Shift deserved more respect from Wilson. At least it has mine. Tt

  • Long Term Follow-up: The Cancha Racket Bag Pro is a Year Old!

    Time flies!

    MIB, ready to be, well, MIB!

    MIB has been using the Cancha Racket Bag Pro for a year. I know because I shipped the bag to him last February. He’s been using it as his one and only bag ever since.

    Now, MIB is not your typical recreational player. No, he’s a three to four day a week doubles warrior. He not only admits to being hard on tennis gear, he occasionally celebrates the fact. Tennis racket blood sacrifices into trash cans and the like—you get the idea. When MIB told me he had shipped the back back to me I was expecting the worst. Instead, the Cancha Racket Bag Pro looked new.

    Have a look.

    MIB used the hell out of the Cancha Racket Bag Pro but you could not tell by how the bag looks after a full year.

    Zippers are perfect.

    MOLLE points are perfect.

    Fabric is perfect.

    Straps and handle the same.

    I am quite certain the bag could pass for new. Ok, so my trusty California patch would give it away but otherwise the bag looks like new. So, now it’s my turn with the Cancha Racket Bag Pro. It swallows up my rackets and two pair of shoes and everything else that needs to be inside. I am really looking forward to traveling with the bag on a tennis trip later this month and for my birthday getaway in April. I will report back once I get the Cancha Racket Bag Pro out on court. But if I were you, I would cut to the chase and expect me to be even more impressed with this fantastic bag once I have had the chance to use it myself. Well done, Cancha! Tt

  • Tennis Partners

    When I started playing tennis, MIB warned me I would find it a challenge to find suitable tennis partners. He was right. My plan, to engage in formal instruction rather than developing what I somewhat disparagingly have referred to as a park game was the right way to go—for me. The downside was that the social or networking aspect of tennis—the ability to get a game or a hit—had to be developed after I’d gotten fairly adept at hitting the ball. Connections are not always easily made. So, I want to write a bit about a few of the tennis partners I’ve shared a court with.

    Phil: I found Phil on the Tennis Players Looking for partners database at Calabasas. He was a commercial property manager. He emphasized that he only did commercial, no residential. When I asked him why he said it was because a commercial property manager didn’t have to listen to as many sob stories as a residential property manager. “You know, it’s not personal. You’re not paying. It’s time to move your business or go out of business.” It made sense. Phil was 45 I think, but his pattern of play has become well-known to me over the last year or so. Even though he was in decent shape, he didn’t move much. So, I either had to hit it right at him, preferably at his forehand, or my ball was going straight to the back fence. He did give two interesting bits of advice. First, was about two local guys who organized mixed-doubles meetups, one at CSUN and the other at Sherman Oaks Park. His other bit of advice was a good one. Phil said, “I’ll tell you what I’ve learned about doubles. Only play mixed. Taking out 50% of the testosterone out of tennis makes the game a lot more fun.”

    Stan / Johann: These guys were great fun. I started out with Stan, a mid-40s accountant. He’d been playing for years but wasn’t very good. He moved like a fit 40 year old, which I enjoyed. We were hitting once a week and chatted about the idea of playing doubles. As the birth of his daughter drew near, he was nice enough to pass me off to his buddy Johann. He was more fit but his tennis skills were a little shaky but he was such a pleasant guy. Then one day he just kind of vanished. When he surfaced again he said he’d been inundated by work and family life. I get it.

    Brisbane Stew: I was practicing my serve at The Rose Bowl, earbuds wedged into my ears, when I thought I heard someone talking to me from the court next to me. That someone was none other than Brisbane Stew. He was looking for a quick hit so we rallied for a while. Turns out he was a pilot for Qantas and found himself in Pasadena for a few days before flying back to Australia. A couple years younger, but a lot more fit, Stew gave me all I could handle. In fact, he was a big motivation in my (somewhat shaky) decision to convert to a two-handed backhand. We tried to meet up once a trip and I had gotten used to an occasional text from him saying when he would be in town. Stew has an excellent serve and likes to play angles you would expect to see in a good doubles match. Then one day Stew told me Qantas was changing planes for the BNE to LAX flight. I hope I’ve not seen the last of Brisbane Stew. He was great fun to play with.

    Pasadena Steve: The tennis gods take and then they give. Not long ago I was practicing my serve at Grant Park in Pasadena when Pasadena Steve strolled up, resplendent in his bucket hat, and asked me if I wanted to hit a few balls. Since then, we try to meet up every week or so. Steve’s a retired schoolteacher from LAUSD and is a relatively new Pasadena resident and a refugee from nearby Glendale. There’s a lot of talking during our sessions and that’s fine by me. It’s nice to blather on about politics, writing, baseball and Mexican food with someone who shares many of my same reference points. Steve plays in a long-established doubles group at the Rose Bowl that’s been going through some changes of late with one player going to the great tennis court in the sky and another threatening to move. Tennis is always about adjustment.

    MIB: I will always be able to brag that someone traveled 2,000 miles to play tennis with me, on my birthday no less. Sure, that was MIB. And, sure, he was in Los Angeles on business but he still went out of his way to extend his trip by a day so he could get all the way to hell and gone (Calabasas) on my birthday. We played during my lesson with Caesar and it was a great experience for me and one I detailed in Tennis thing the book.

    Then, last summer, following our family reunion in the QCs, we made the trip to SE Michigan to see the MIB in his own back yard. Yes, tennis was played. Yes, bourbon was sipped. Yes, LPs were played. Playing tennis with MIB was a hoot. He honored me by playing full out and I really savored the challenge. It reminded me of the movie The Rookie, where high school baseball players in a small Texas town in get better by trying to catch up with the major-league fastball of their coach, Jim Morris.

    I think you have to see high-level athletic performance to get an Idea for how close you can get to it yourself. Better than seeing is actually experiencing. I imagine some people would shrink from such experience, worried about proof beyond doubt that they could never deal whatever the athletic prowess they admire. Me? I think the experience itself can exalting, so long as one is serious, like I was when I played with MIB. Playing with MIB, even more so than Stew, gave me the sense of what I could do and what I could not. It clarified the size of the court and what it meant to actually cover it. One thing is certain, if I were lucky enough to play with MIB on a regular basis I would be a far better tennis player.

    Federer said that in tennis you could feel your opponent through contact with the ball. As soon as I heard this I nodded. The same is true in baseball. I can still remember the sense of hitting a heavy slider off some guys. My hands remember the feeling and in my brain that fragment of sense-memory connects me with those guys, even after all these years. It’s only been a few months since I played tennis with MIB but I still remember how it looked and felt.

    Lord willing, MIB and I will find ourselves on another tennis court someday soon. I’m looking forward to it.Tt

  • Big news out of Brisbane: My buddy Stew is club champ at Kawana Tennis Club!

    Let me back up.

    Yeah, I know. Stew looks a little intense here. But stay with me while I fill in the blanks. A year or so ago I was hitting serves at The Rose Bowl Tennis courts right here in Pasadena. Suddenly I hear a voice over the ANC of my Apple AirPod Pro.

    “Hey mate, you wanna have a little hit?”

    Now remember I was beginner at the time (I still am, when you get right down to it). That was the first time anyone had ever asked to hit with me. Truth be told, I didn’t want to. Of course, I said, “You Bet!” In my ears rang the words of the MIB. “Paulie, you’re going to have to put yourself out there to meet people to play tennis with!”

    First time and last time, hitting balls with Stew was an adventure. He hit the ball great and moved lots better than me being a couple years younger and much fitter. But, there weren’t untold miles between us and I never felt like Stew was bored by hitting with me, at least that’s how I want to remember it. After our hit, I asked Stew what his deal was and he told me he flew the Qantas route from Brisbane to LAX. That put him in Pasadena from time to time, usually for three or four days.

    So, every now and then I’d get a text or email from Stew and we’d meet up at the Rose Bowl and give the ball the old what for, or what Stew called, the full treatment. We rallied a lot and played some. I was overjoyed to have held my first serve but over time Stew would grind me into dust. But, the grinding process was fun and educational. Stew plays a lot of doubles so whenever the opportunity arose, he’d come in. After this happened a few times I noticed he was waiting to play a forehand volley at a sharp angle. Once I grasped this pattern I tried to make sure never to give him a shot he could hit with his forehand when he was approaching the net. So was born my earliest awareness of tennis tactics en situ.

    We had some good chats. I liked to ask him about where he lived and how he came to be a pilot. He told me about his club and how he liked to work on his diesel Jeep. Stew was like me. For us, it was never too hot or windy or cold to play. When it was time for me to go, Stew would scan the courts looking for someone else to hit with. Looking back, I wish I had freed up more time to play when Stew was in town. I was especially sorry to have missed Stew when he wandered his way to the San Marino Tennis Club looking for a hit. The guy was ready to hit anywhere and with anyone.

    The end came, as it always does. A few weeks ago I reached out to Stew, asking when he’d be in Pasadena. He sent a message that said his route had changed planes to the Boeing 787 and absent a very unlikely development, he wouldn’t be flying the Brisbane to LAX route anytime soon. Sigh.

    Then, a few days ago, I got this photo from Stew. He had won his club’s, The Kawana Tennis Club, Over-50 Men’s Singles Championship (I told you he was good!). Of course, I’m happy for Stew and he told me he was chuffed. Still, I miss Stew and miss playing with him (in that order). I don’t know how it could happen but I hope our paths cross again. Stew’s a great guy to play tennis with and he taught me a lot without even trying.

  • Academic tennis: A Tennis thing meditation.

    As those of you who have read Tennis thing know, I owe my tennis to my brother, MIB. He was the one who told me, before even meeting me in person, “Paulie, you would love tennis.” MIB was right, as he so often is. What I doubt, though, was that MIB would have expected how long I would take my twice-a-week lessons with my coach, Caesar Schwarz. It’s been a bit over two years since I started studying tennis with Caesar. I didn’t start out studying the game, I think it became a study gradually, but it is what tennis remains for me.

    What’s the diff, you might be asking? Think back to playing dodge ball when you were a kid. How long was it between your first hearing of the word dodge and the moment when someone was chucking a ball at your head? Most games are learned as they are played. Many people, most people, likely, learn terms by playing it.

    But, I have not. I have learned to play tennis while studying it. I like to watch tennis played whether I am watching a WTA or ATP pro or a little kid with marvelous footwork.

    And, I love to hit the ball.

    What I have not focused on is competition. This is true partly because at my age I am not especially competitive. I’m not even in a competition with myself, to be honest. I want to play tennis correctly out of a motivation to master something at once new and satisfying. That’s an intoxicating combination. But, the question is does the person on the other side of the net count and is anyone keeping score? When Caesar is the guy, he matters. It’s the precision and intentionality of his play that allows me the physical and mental opportunity to learn. He has raised me since I was a 60+ year old tennis newborn and has been instrumental to everything I’ve learned. If any elements of my game are AOK, it’s because of my coach.

    But, and this is something I mused about in Tennis thing, does one need to play tennis, keep score, enter tournaments, seek the humiliation of their opponents to really play tennis?

    There’s this old broad at Calabasas who seems only to hit with whichever pro is available. I have never seen her playing with anyone other than a coach. There’s no serving and each coach tends to hit the ball directly toward the old broad. But, the old broad bashes the ball back with fierce effort and likes to collect winners. And, this brings me to this quote:

    “Some people, they keep on working with a coach, but the coach is just teeing the ball up for them. That’s no way to learn tennis. This is how you learn the game, right here.”

    The previous quote is from Brisbane Stew. He’s a Qantas pilot I met at Pasadena’s Rose Bowl tennis courts. Unlike me, he has scads of tennis experience and is quite fit for 60. Unfortunately, he just told me the Qantas Brizzy to Los Angeles route is now flown using the Boeing 787. Unless Stew changes aircrafts I won’t be seeing him soon. Bummer. Playing with him was always amusing and educational. Back to his quote. He’s not wrong. Playing with him or MIB is not as easy as playing with Caesar but there’s more to it than that.

    I have mentioned before that an example of Caesar‘s particular genius is the ability to hit shots that are consistently challenging for me, but only rarely beyond my capabilities. The other day, I was watching as he served to an elderly, but very fit student. Caesar had to abbreviate no fewer than three elements of his motion, that I could see, in order to hit a serve that was challenging to his student but not overwhelming. Now, can I imagine that I could get better faster if I consistently played with someone like Stew or MIB? I think the answer is undoubtedly, yes, especially if better is defined by advanced competitive ability. However, there’s a significant caveat. And that caveat involves the questions of form and balance. When the ball is coming too fast or bouncing too high or has been hit too wide or too shallow or too deep the kinds of corrections a beginning player like I have to make must ofetn be done in great haste. Not surprisingly, great haste, seldom results in a shot struck with good form or balance. And, there’s the rub, at least for me.

    It’s a great understatement to say that I’ve enjoyed the meditative aspects of tennis. You see, I am on the eve of cutting back on my lessons with Caesar. This change is driven solely by economics. If a small shitpile of cash were to drop onto my head, I would gladly spend it on more frequent and longer lessons with Caesar, but this does not seem likely.

    Early on, I remember Caesar saying that when he and his younger brother, Darius, were taking tennis lessons as kids their family could only afford one lesson each month. Caesar’s dad was a smart guy because he made sure that his sons actually practiced what they were taught during their lessons. That’s my plan and I will be similarly dedicated even though I will still be having four lessons a month. Still, I’m not going to be happy about it.

    When I go to sleep at night I am thinking about my footwork as I move toward a deep, high-bouncing back hand. I’m not thinking about how I can beat someone or keep them from beating me. It will be interesting to see how things differ and stay the same in 2026. Tt

  • The MIB Effect

    Yesterday, over a nice, crisp wheat ale (Rasenmäher-Bier [lawnmower beer]) at Enegren, I was waxing lyrical about how much my tennis game would improve if I was able to play with the MIB just once a week.

    My ale-sipping companion wondered if my coach, Caesar, wasn’t able to fill that roll. His question revealed the difference between playing for the sheer joy of trying to hang in there, rather like riding a bucking bronco, as opposed to the steady, incremental block-on -block approach of a tennis coach intending to help a player build a complete game.

    Outwardly, the best evidence of the kind of play that characterizes a lesson is preparation (anticipating and flowing toward the incoming ball) and executing the proper kind of stroke. It is simple, but simple is often not easy especially in tennis.

    Playing with MIB stresses my game to its limits and beyond, but is also just plain fun. A great deal can be learned just by watching him move around the court anticipating and revealing entertaining angles to create.

    Caesar would approve of the exercise but I think he’d want to both debrief and decontaminate afterward. I think I will always have the tendency to overhit in tennis, something I never did playing baseball and rarely did on the golf course. I can hear Caesar now, telling me to do all of the same things he has for the last two years. I will sometimes stop just to say that I hear him and that I appreciate what he’s saying and that I am trying my best to put his advice into effective action.

    But, the tennis racket and tennis ball contact is simply too enjoyable not to occasionally crank up to 11. Catch that ball in the middle of the racket especially when accompanied by some well-timed movement into the shot and you have an experience that’s hard for me to resist, though I usually do.

    Reading Anthony Verghese The Tennis Partner will always stand as a reminder of how rare the best tennis partners will always be. Enjoy it when you find yours.

  • A step closer to the right racket for me?

    I’ve only been playing tennis since late July 2023. But, since then I’ve owned a good number of rackets. Two of them came from the MIB (the 2013 Head Prestige Pro and more recently a Wilson Shift 99). The others I bought used, some on Ebay and a few on Craigslist.

    The first variable to be considered was grip size. My first racket was codenamed Battle Axe. It was a Wilson Six One 100 and I really liked it but its grip was 4 1/2 and everyone thought it was just too big. It was, but I enjoyed playing with that racket anyway. I still miss it.

    I made the move first to 4 1/4 and later to 4 1/8 to make it easier to use overgrips. Later I drifted back to 4 1/4 by way of a couple Tecnifibres (a TFight 300 and a 305). Overall, the racket that worked best and felt best was my 2018 Head Graphene Touch Prestige Tour. That’s the worst racket name I’ve come across but, all things considered, it’s the racket that has best fit my game and aesthetic.

    Then I tried MIB’s Wilson Shift 99 and I was surprised at how easy it was to swing while still feeling solid on impact. At first, I was under the mistaken idea it was a Wilson Shift 99L which weighs 10.1 ounces (286.3G) but once I got it home I realized that when MIB identified it as the lighter one, he meant it was the 10.6 ounce (300.5G) version. Strung, and with my usual Sampras dampener, El Shifto weighs 316G, fully ten grams less than my Head Graphene Touch Prestige Tour. Months earlier, MIB had told me how much difference five grams can matter and here I was finding that eleven grams obviously means even more.

    I do enjoy hitting with a heavier racket. It’s not unlike putting with a modern 350G putter as opposed to an 80s Ping putter that typically weighed less that 300G. Mass is your friend when you don’t need much absolute velocity or your don’t need to change directions quickly. I like to think my time playing tennis has made me stronger but I know it hasn’t. When I got started in tennis I was 62 and now I’m 64. I don’t want to deceive myself into thinking I’m defeating the effects of gravity or age.

    So, the Wilson Shift has been instructive though I’m not wild about the 16×20 string pattern, plus, its grip is 4 3/8 which is a bit large, even without an overgrip. So, I’ve spent a few days looking for a racket that aligns with the Shift’s basic specs before I found the Head 2022 Instinct MP. It’s very close in terms of weight (the Wilson is a little more head light) and flex though while the Instinct’s head measures 100 sq in as opposed to the Head’s 99 sq in.

    Once I get the Instinct, I will have the Head Prestige at 327G and the Head Instinct and the Wilson Shift at right around 315G. I’m pretty sure the 315G rackets will work better for my game. I’m not sure I’ll like them quite as much as the Head Prestige but I still feel a few steps closer to playing with the right racket for me,

  • 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.