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Tag: Mixed Doubles

  • The Doubles Conundrum

    It was Pro To Go, aka Chris Phelan who laid down the truth for me.

    “For guys our age, doubles is our future.”

    Now, PTG might be 50 but he sure as hell isn’t 65, like I am. My natural response was, “Yeah, fuck you, buddy.”

    Thing is, I really like PTG. He spoke a good deal of truth to me about my tennis game. I’m not sure when, but I know I will make it back to visit him next time and I’m in the desert.

    But, what he said implied I was rapidly getting too old to play singles. That’s what generated my somewhat tongue-in-cheek FU.

    Right or wrong, I still believe I can play singles. I know there are guys at my club who are 65 or older who persist in playing singles. But, when the opportunity to join a Tuesday mixed-doubles group was presented, I jumped at it. The experience would be good for my game.

    It’s fun and unconventionally challenging. The other guy doesn’t hit the ball real hard either on his serve or with his ground strokes. I can hit pretty hard on both fronts and occasionally do. But hitting consistently hard is a horrible idea when it comes to mixed. Male players have to constantly judge just how hard they want to hit a given shot while visually scanning the other side of the next.

    If a female player accidentally (or purposefully) hits an opponent with the ball, she might offer a smiling apology, but she probably won’t mean it. If a male player accidentally grenades a female he will instantly apologize and swear to all manner of excuses.

    I’m so sorry — I totally missed that. It was supposed to be between the two of you! My Bad. Won’t happen again. I’ll be more careful. I promise.

    For the record, I am completely OK with this double standard. Still, it is an ongoing challenge to judge exactly how hard to hit the ball and at whom when playing mixed doubles.

    Last weekend, the females of our group played in a doubles tournament down in Orange County. When I asked how the tournament was, they turned sad. Turns out they lost in a tiebreak. In my mind, this was a big success. Forcing a tiebreak means they were competitive throughout the match. Whether or not they came out on top at the end of the 7-point tiebreaker was far less meaningful in my mind.

    We sometimes finish our hour and a half session with a few games of the men versus women. But, most of our time is spent playing mixed. But, since the women had worked so hard prepping for their tournament, they decided they wanted to play against the men from the get-go. And this was fine by me. It wasn’t like I expected the men to win or that I expected the women to win. It was enough to be confident things were unlikely to end with another heartbreaking tiebreak.

    1-0 Men

    2-1 Men

    2-2 Men

    4-3 Men

    In between games my guy comes up to me and says, “I’m not hitting my returns hard enough.” I nodded and told him it could be a tricky balance. But, I thought it was Ok for him to hit with a bit more pace. As I said before, he is not a hard hitter.

    5-5

    6-5 Men

    Then my guy lost his serve, by overhitting as you might have guessed.

    Tiebreak.

    During the tiebreak, I was hoping the women would find a way to pull it out while trying not to hit obviously stupid shots. The tiebreak sea-sawed back and forth, just like the rest of the set but it ended 7-5 men. Ouch. My guy and I tapped rackets in muted appreciation for our play. For the women it was an obvious reminder of the USTA tiebreaker they lost over the weekend. I hoped they could find a way to be happy for the way they played if not the outcome they had hoped for. 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