Olympic games, and the logic of their scholarship still stands profound. Yet the passage of time has somehow allowed us to drift away from this awareness of mind-body oneness. All too often today people are stereotyped as being either a physical or an intellectual type. The image is presented as an either-or proposition, implying that success in one attribute results from the absence of the other. Within our educational system physical education is all but used as a recess period. At the university level there is a very clear prejudice against the ‘‘anti-intellectualism’’ of sports and physical training. The philosophy of Total Health Tennis is that intelligence is not something above health. Rather, good health— expressed as high-performance physical skill—is the mark of a thinking man who chooses to use all of his resources. One does not use his ‘‘hands’’ because his ‘‘head’’ is inadequate. The focus of Total Health Tennis is the development of the whole person, head and hands, mind and body, a union of all that we are or are capable of becoming.
One of the best examples of inner game development through a physical means was Richard Bach’s most famous seagull, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, through his search for perfection in flight (a physical learning exercise) since through it he learned most importantly about the true oneness of his essence. He learned to eliminate mind-body dualism. After firing ‘‘directly through the center of Breakfast Flock, ticking off two hundred twelve miles per hour, eyes closed, in a great roaring shriek of wind and feathers,’”?
he came to the realization that gulls (and for our purpose, people, too) could lift themselves out of ignorance and resignation and find themselves to be creatures of excellence and intelligence and skill. It is possible for all of us to emulate Jonathan’s awareness of his wings and feathers cutting through the wind. Yoga exercises are a means that some use to increase self-awareness; and while Total
Health Tennis is somewhat less meditative in, nature, the agility exercise program, combined with the aerobic exercise of running and specific tennis skill development, offers the thoughtful participant a very complete awareness of himself. By seeing and feeling
“through the mind’s eye,’’ a simple stretching exercise can be a truly liberating experience. Awareness of the muscles involved, for example, can be extended even down to an image of the muscle fibers as they stretch, the beginning of total awareness.
Having been banished from the gull society as a heretic, Jonathan was reprimanded by the elder gull who stated the alternative lifestyle choices that face all of us:
.. one day, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, you shall learn that irresponsibility does not pay. Life is the unknown and the unknowable, except that we are put into this world to eat, to stay alive as long as we possibly can.‘
In a time that often seems to border on economic depression, when schools and factories close because of lack of fuel and the public budget never seems to balance, resignation of this type is not unusual. It is a negative, self-limiting motivation, and we need more responses like Jonathan’s that day:
Who is more responsible than a gull who finds and follows-a meaning, a higher purpose for life? For a thousand years we have scrabbled after fish heads, but now we have a reason to live—to learn, to discover, to be free. *
In any learning experience, but especially those that involve physical skill development, perfection within oneself must be the center of attention. It is not an act of competition against others, who may or may not have started the program before you or who may be younger or presently stronger. It is important that the participant’s concept of learning, and therefore his or her attitude towards his or herself, be nonjudgmental. One of my original Total
Health Girls was a lady over fifty years old who, after two months, was only able to run four laps around the tennis court. The pressure she put on herself increased as others in the class began to improve, and she became discouraged to the point of nearly quitting the program. At that point, she looked failure straight in the face and decided to abandon competition. The next day she ran nine laps, then twelve, then sixteen and continued to over a mile ina freedom and liberation of spirit that has been inspirational to us all. ‘‘Those who put aside travel [external number of laps] for the sake of perfection [the process of inner search] go anywhere, in-stantly.’’® Gail Sheehy, in her award-winning book, Passages,
I count my own fortune now in the treasury of lives open to me in trust. They live in me, resonate in me, teach me every day that no age or event can of itself prevent the human spirit from outstretching its former boundaries.’
The Great Gull explained this idea of external limitations when
You will begin to touch heaven, Jonathan, in the moment that you touch perfect speed. And that isn’t flying a thousand miles an hour, or a million, or flying at the speed of light. Because any number is a limit, and perfection doesn’t have limits. Perfect speed, my son, is being there. ®
The concept of self-actualization, getting the most out of yourself, can be usefully visualized as a center of personal value, and while it is accessible, it is also hidden by a crust of conditioned social response: Wanting to succeed for the wrong reasons, for external reasons, for reasons and values established by others and imposed by the social system we live in. Ayn Rand, one of the bestknown advocates of individualism, wrote in Atlas Shrugged that the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute.?
I believe that this is true, and I believe that tennis and health development contribute to the actualization of this philosophy in a very real way.
For economic reasons, and by reasons of specialization, modern institutions pull people in different directions. There are many vehicles for health. For example, it is possible to buy exercise units or to go to a spa, but neither offers the release of play and entertainment. They achieve their purpose, certainly, but as institutions they remain narrow. The orientation of doctors is another example. They are trained toward the cure of disease.
Although preventive medicine is becoming more popular through such movements as Kenneth Cooper’s aerobics program and
Reginald Cherry’s Clinic for Prevention of Heart Disease at the
Woodland’s in Houston, such movements are basically few and far between. The institution of medicine has necessarily focused its attention on the immediacy of cure, while prevention of disease and ill health has taken a back seat, except for obvious cases such as vaccine and immunization development.
Physical educators in our school systems stress exercise but most often seem only passively interested in high performance. In many ways, they themselves perpetuate their image of mediocrity. The education of the physical is a very important message and it is infinitely more complex than the way it is presented. Educating and training your body is more than a few routine jumping jacks. ‘‘You aren’t going to do any exercise unless you love it and discover you’re not a whole person without it.’’'? Another common dichotomy lies in the act of competition and how coaches inadvertently impose judgmental standards that exaggerate winning and losing as absolute measures of success and failure. Competition, of course, is part of the American way and whether the case in point is junior level tennis or high school basketball, the pressure of coaches and parents toward a goal orientation of winning at any cost somehow ignores any thought of continuing mental health. It is anxiety-producing in many cases, and one need only look around to see the by-product of this influence. We need more ‘‘total centers’’ of recreation and personal development. We need more integration of health and exercise, and our schools could be a useful vehicle for the monitoring of its evolution.
I have dismal memories of high school gym classes, where we stood around the field waiting for a turn at bat, or did brisk calisthenics on the lawn. College gym class was worse. We dropped ourselves out of bed early in the morning so as not to miss a compulsory class, in which we practiced total body relaxation while lying on the cold gym floor.''
We need more comprehensive thought toward the relation of it all to mental health and, eventually, to adult productivity. There needs to be more emphasis on process as opposed to goals, for it is learning at any age that should be stressed—the concept of life as a well-integrated, always changing, growing experience. And it is never too late.
WHEN ALL AGES MEET ON the common ground of acquired skill, personal motivation differs visibly. A noncontact sport like tennis (by focusing, goldfish bowl-style, on normally hidden personal behaviors) triggers a full range of defensive explanations in efforts to be a convenient criterion for sorting out players and their primary motivations. For Gail Sheehy in Passages, age was the prime determinate in all of life’s games. The fact is, however, that self-segregation would always occur naturally in the tennis setting, because both ability and social status seem to parallel exactly where you are along life’s road. The only real exception to this rule of thumb is in the context of serious competition where results alone determine a player’s accessibility to the future. There is always the child prodigy like Tracy Austin today, or Chris Evert and Bjorn Borg a few years back.
Age categories then, while obvious and often convenient, are ultimately only vehicles for dealing with different levels and types of performance. When one matures ahead of expectancy, an uncommon achievement is sometimes attributed to youth. Yet, this same quality may elude the elderly. The fact is that both ends of the continuum break down under expectation of age alone, and depend most profoundly on the qualities of mind which influence an in-dividual’s willingness to suffer pain or adversity as the price of accomplishment.
As a teaching professional, I am conscious of five dominant mind styles on the courts. They are age-referenced and reinforced, but go beyond, as will soon be apparent. The typologies are:
There have been several books written recently concerning human behavior as it applies to personal motivation and self-actualization. Wayne Dyer’s Your Erroneous Zones'? explores many of the fallacies that make our mental game vulnerable to anxiety; Gail Sheehy describes transitional phases in adult life in
Passages'*; and Erica Jong explores sexual liberation in women in How to Save Your Own Life.'* They are all self-help manuals of sorts for adults who aré attempting to cope adequately with change. Most often anxiety and frustration are portrayed as arising when too much permanance is sought or expected within a changing environment. Occasionally, people perceive of life as being essentially out of control; the only way to ‘‘being’’ is to float on top of the current and not try to stop it. Total Health Tennis represents more than a raft which is suitable for surviving an angry stream. If the raft analogy holds at all, hopefully it is a motorized one over which its pilot has considerable control.
The most natural learners in the world have always been children. They are similarly the ones who handle concepts of change the best. They tend to adapt well by reason of accepting their environment with a less judgmental conscience than most adults. They are truly as the flower in bloom, everyday bringing a new awareness of spring. For them, it is almost instinctive. Their energies are high and they see things around them everyday that they did not know were there before. In relation to their adult counterparts, they tend to take fewer things for granted. Their attitude is more that of an explorer, and it is for this reason that Total Health Tennis is so uniquely suited for youth. It essentially parallels what most children are naturally inclined to do-anyway. Inasmuch as it brings them added awareness of their body, at the same time that it thrusts them into a productive social environment, a unique awareness of mental and physical oneness results.
While children are usually entered into the Total Health Program by their parents, once they are there, it does not take long to see how natural the setting is for them. Most parents search very hard for constructive surroundings for their children. Occasionally they are the middle-class prototype correcting the deficiencies in their own childhood. Increasingly, however, they are simply passing on to the next generation a personally satisfying experience that they hope might be as rewarding for their children as it was for them.
Adults are aware that the real ‘‘future shock’’ is often a healththreatening low-grade tension today—the enemy within. They are thus motivated to regain their health and to continue entering their children in parallel programs to insure that they never lose their health through carelessness. Children participate in the program naturally and without any unusual awareness of negative alternatives in life. Their parents enter the program most often to rebuild, because they have already experienced in one form or another a separation of the spirit (the will to do) from the body (the physical powers required for goal attainment). Unfortunately, growing up can be a desensitizing process. It can be turned around into a process of growing awareness but only by deliberate thought.
In a nutshell, then, the children’s program of Total Health is just as developmental and just as structured as that designed for adults.
Motivation of the participants themselves is quite natural for children, but the original decision is usually made by their parents. All parents, whether they have the courage to remedy their own situation or not, always want the best for their children. Precise motivation for children is not deeply philosophical; rather, it stems from the most obvious form of wholesome exercise and physical activity. The program puts their body in motion and it stimulates their thinking process. It makes them aware of the tool which is theirs and they can watch its development grow. They eagerly record their progress on their charts and they openly rejoice when they have learned a new skill. It is quite satisfying to realize that children can literally absorb the idea that life is a never-ending and ever-challenging learning experience. Total Health Tennis points children in the right direction. It teaches them to discipline themselves and thereby approach adulthood with confidence.
There have been numerous studies and books written through the years about child development, but comparatively few relative to adult development. It was not until Gail Sheehy’s book, Passages, that the idea of continuous evolution of the adult personality became truly popular. It was almost as if being an ‘‘adult’’ was the end-all goal of life, and that growing and changing came to an end at that point—somewhere below age twenty-five. Most of us knew better, but for some reason we never put the puzzle together quite as snugly as Gail Sheehy.
In many ways children look more instinctively forward than adults. The older we get the more capacity we all seem to have for nostalgia, for looking backward and reliving the past through our memory, as opposed to creating new experiences as we proceed
As in childhood [and for our purpose, in tennis too], each step presents not only new tasks of development but requires a letting go of the techniques that worked before. With each passage some magic must be given up, some cherished illusion of safety and comfortably familiar sense of self must be cast off, to allow for the greater expansion of our own distinctiveness . . . we must be willing to change chairs if we want to grow. . . During the passage from one stage to another, we will be between two chairs. Wobbling no doubt, but developing. If I’ve been convinced by one idea in the course of collecting all the life stories that inform the book, it is this: Times of crisis, of disruption or constructive change, are not only predictable but desirable. They mean growth.'
Those thoughts are not only profound but most relevant to the Total Health Tennis Program since not only is that thought of development relevant to physical training and skill development, but it is relevant to the fact that the people who come to us usually do it at times of their lives in which they are in stages ‘‘between chairs.’’ They do it as part of a developmental process. as a means of establishing a new equilibrium. It is a vehicle, not for a reaffirmation of something that worked (a state condition), but rather, as the cautious testing of a new stasis—the kind of stability represented by a moving bicycle.
Within the context of the Total Health Program, the fewest participants of any age are in the twenty-to thirty-year bracket.
There has been significant participation by both children and adults thirty years and older. Gail Sheehy calls this period the ‘‘trying twenties,’’ and there would seem to be considerable validity to that label. The young adult within this age group is very busy, he or she is choosing from a myriad of alternatives in both lifestyle and -commitment.
Drinking, sex playing, competitive sports, hot rodding, streetganging, joining the army, joining the Peace Corps, joining sororities and fraternities, smoking dope, popping pills, back-packing through Rajasthan, religious quests, rioting, streaking, seeking bliss consciousness—each of these experiences satisfied something of the young people’s need to test their capacities and seek their own
Such are the ways of young adults between twenty and thirty as they stretch their wings for the first time and respond to stimuli of all sorts. It is not an age of discipline or intentional commitment.
Some commitments are made, of course, due to social pressure or necessity—career selected, marriage, etc. Not all are broken, but neither are they all kept. It is a throwaway world. In general, persons in this age group are too busy feeling out the parameters of their lives to make a serious commitment to Total Health Tennis.
Furthermore, they are young enough that their bodies do not even show early signs of abandoning them. They are not yet, as a rule, overweight, for they still have enough dynamic qualities to offset ten thousand hamburgers and a trainload of french fries. They do find, however, that their lives tend to become more predictable and sedentary as they edge toward thirty. It is at that time that they begin to experience physical as well as psychological changes in their orientation. Both of these transitions are impetus towards the kind of self-development and health maintenance found in Total
Health Tennis, and this is where we pick them up. I generally regard the twenty- to thirty-year bracket as the ‘‘boundary locating’’ phase of life. Fortunately, the frenzied decade passes quickly, leaving adequate recovery time for the thoughtful.
The short years from thirty to thirty-five are but a preface to the more profound space from thirty-five to forty-five. At thirty many people feel they have outgrown the often hasty choices made during their twenties. They may have been choices perfectly suited to that stage, but they are now ones that no longer seem appropriate. It is for this reason that we find an emergence of new choices and new commitments. Gail Sheehy wrote:
One common response is the tearing up of the life we spent most of our twenties putting together. It may mean striking out on a secondary-road toward a new vision or converting a dream of
‘running for president’’ into a more realistic goal. The single person feels a push to find a partner. The woman who was previously content at home with children chafes to venture into the world. The childless couple reconsiders children. And almost everyone who is married, especially those married for seven years, feels a discontent.”
The Total Health Program seems to have a special fascination for this small five-year age group. The restlessness associated with an inner urge to find a new orientation of self only naturally leads a person into exercises of intensity like Total Health. The process of Total Health intensifies the focus on development and on change because the participant can witness his own progress daily. The program and the game of tennis are microcosms of change, and they are in a size and form that are manageable. The exercise of participating in Total Health Tennis is a personal one and the development is purely individual. This is one of the main reasons that adults from thirty to seventy are attracted to the program. For various reasons, it is not uncommon for adults of this age to want their own identity and to watch a progress and growth within themselves alone. It is compensation on the other side of the scale from job insecurity, differing interests and needs within the family, and with one’s spouse, and it is proof in the most graphic way that one can improve, can get better, and can still learn. It is a reaffirmation.
Gail Sheehy points out that by our middle thirties we come at a crossroads where we realize we have reached the halfway mark of our life. Even though in most cases we are reaching our prime, it is a common temptation to preoccupy ourselves with the fact that we can now see an end to it all. In many cases an individual will either be looking several years ahead or will be looking nostalgically backwards. It is important that the most constructive efforts in one’s life always be pointed toward the immediacy of the present, that the reality of ‘‘being’’ is in fact ‘‘becoming,’’ and that one realizes that all progress is relative and always transcends age.
Sheehy wrote in her book, Passages:
The loss of youth, the faltering of physical powers we have always taken for granted, the fading purpose of stereotyped roles by which we have thus far identified ourselves, the spiritual dilemma of having no absolute answers—any or all these shocks can give this passage the character of crisis. '*
Persons aware of this authenticity crisis are the ones who most often undertake a program of intense self-development such as
Total Health Tennis, and, not so ironically, they are also the ones with children in an age group ready to begin the junior program.
These are the people who either participate directly themselves, or who enlist their children for the experience which their own crisis and protective instincts demand they be prepared. It is important to note that it is the parental awareness that protects and puts the children into a positive environment such as Total Health. There are many cases where parents and children participate in the program simultaneously, although not in the same class. The junior programs of Total Health are always kept separate according to age and ability, with some children beginning as early as six years of age. The point is, however, that there are many cases where the search for personal self-mastery and life-long health becomes a family endeavor, and it is usually one that is accelerated by the deadline decade crisis experienced by the parents. Sheehy continued
It is a frightening step off onto the treacherous footbridge leading to the second half of life. We can’t take everything with us on this journey through uncertainty. Along the way, we discover that we are alone. We no longer have to ask permission because we are the providers of our own safety. We must learn to give ourselves permission. We stumble upon feminine or masculine aspects of our natures that up to this time have usually been masked. There is grieving to be done because an old self is dying. By taking in our suppressed and even our unwanted parts, we prepare at the gut level for the reintegration of an identity that is ours and ours alone—not some artificial form put together to please the culture or our mates.
It is a dark passage at the beginning. But by disassembling ourselves, we can glimpse the light and gather our parts into a renewal.'? —
Depending on how we have dealt with the crisis of our own authenticity in the previous decade between thirty-five and fortyfive, the later years of life can either be our most rewarding or our most resigned. It is critical that one creates new options for himself as an individual during that decade. If a person has not, and if he is not prepared, his staleness is likely to evolve into resignation. It is not uncommon for the individual of this type to feel ‘‘alone,”’ left behind by children leaving the house, or by job opportunities being missed because of the presence of the growing energy of youth. It is easy for a person of this age to feel on the downhill slide. Total Health Tennis has many participants in this age group who use it as an effective way to combat not only their own resignation, but the resignation of others about them. As one faces the fifty-year mark, there should be a new warmth and mellowing for those who have prepared themselves for a new and more private lifestyle—and there is nothing more personal, private, or rewarding than an exercise of intense self-development. Sheehy continued to
Friends become more important than ever, but so does privacy. Since it is so often proclaimed by people past midlife, the motto of this stage might be ‘‘No more bullshit.’’”
Relative to the importance of friends, Total Health Tennis, and the fact that it is a group experience, almost paradoxically offers socialization with others while doing it with those interested in the privacy and personal aspects of self-actualization. It is, indeed, a unique environment. For persons of this inclination the Total
Health Tennis Program is truly a no-nonsense experience.
History holds the game of lawn tennis to be an elitist sport previously played in cable knit sweaters and long trousers on fine green lawns and at clubs for only the most affluent. This history only naturally has a certain romantic appeal, but the years have changed that game and have brought it to the people. That is not to assume, however, that there are no longer fine country clubs and that there are no longer people who use the game most importantly for the social enterprise and status that it brings. There are many clubs where the focus of a modern man’s or woman’s day is on their luncheon, their Bloody Mary, after their tennis game, with the game itself being only secondary. Social demands at many clubs have made the tennis clothing business a multi-million-dollar affair, for example. It is important to look the ‘‘proper’’ way on the court, and while this is not to be belittled, since it is part of the discipline and self-care interrelated with it all, it is sometimes easy to lose the true point of performance, and that is what Total Health
Tennis is all about. For the social set, good health and skill development were very often only an incidental by-product. For the
Total Health participant, looking well and caring for himself or herself remain secondary (but still important) to the idea of overall development. In its essence, Total Health Tennis questions socialization for its own sake. It seeks not to abandon the grace and beauty and history of the game, but it does transcend the stigmatism and pressure of a purely social context, and it points towards the most personal development of the individual, by the individual himself.
It is fair to say that we are living in an age of assertiveness, even of brash competitiveness, as witnessed by the likes of Jimmy
Connors in the game of tennis. It is not uncommon to witness the philosophy of ‘‘win at any cost,’’ with the old ethic of ‘‘how you play the game’’ quietly being left behind. The fact that men and women must be assertive in order to survive today is no more thana fact of life. There is, however, a thin line between being constructively assertive and being out of control, and there are many cases in which over-reaction and too much aggression are as much in error as passivity. This is especially true for women today in their efforts to realize themselves and the cause of feminine liberation.
Within this context, and this is true for both men and women, the game of tennis, and Total Health as a program, offer an opportunity to practice in the search for balance in this idea. Over-aggression and over-reaction, for example, in the game of tennis are not smart tennis. There is no reason to win points more flamboyantly than is necessary, for flamboyance in and of itself is a liability that can threaten the chance of winning or losing a point. The wise player of the mental game will always play his points to the hilt but will win the points only as the flow of movement demands. If an opponent has fallen on his face, there is no reason to hit a one-hundred-mile-an-hour drive one inch from the sideline.
Extreme passivity is just as ineffective on the tennis court as over-reaction. The fear of losing, the fear of failure, the anxiety of choking—they can all induce a player to ‘‘push’’ the ball over the net. There is a limit to the success any player will have when his fear of error prevents and/or inhibits his attempts for constructive ball placement.
The fact of life within the tennis experience is that heavy hitters often beat pushers and pushers often beat heavy hitters—but neither of them ever defeats the wise percentage player who has the talents of both, but who implements them at the right time.
Within the exercise and running portions of the Total Health
Programs, these same extremes are most prevalent. There have been many times where I have seen the macho male ego fail in its attempt to run too fast too soon, or to do too many exercises with too much weight. Similarly, I have often seen the self-limiting self — of the female ego will itself short. Total Health Tennis is a medium in which a person must conceptualize the reality of their own potential. It is an exercise in finding reality and facing an objective and systematic truth about ourself. Health and performance do not come overnight. Through systematic methods, the training effect of repetition and persistence will bring forth results that will change the life of anyone who sees it through. The idea is like a good swing, but every good swing needs a follow-through to keep the ball in play.
For many adults, learning is a real problem because they cannot stand the thought of ‘‘not knowing it.’? Within the context of Total
Health, however, overcoming weaknesses, the act of ‘‘becoming,”’ is put in a setting in which other strengths can be stressed at the same time deficiencies are corrected. This makes the learning environment very secure and always reinforcing.
Within this context, we are once again thrust into that microcosm of life where court experience is a great teacher. There are two main thresholds with which the Total Health participant must come face to face. They are facts of life that we all encounter if we take personal initiative in our lives. The unavoidable thresholds are (1) pain and (2) frustration. Both must be dealt with, and they must be conquered. It is not easy, for example, to begin a skill development as intricate as the game of tennis if you have not played in twenty years, or perhaps never before. After all, that
‘*bloody ball’’ is moving, and it is being hit away from you. That net is three feet high in the center but three-feet-six inches at the side. Those lines—the dimensions of the court, seventy-eight feet by thirty-six feet, they are such an imposing obstacle—but, on the other hand, they are such a.challenge. Within the context of any worthwhile challenge, every individual must learn to deal with the frustration of being a beginner. The fact of life is that beginners must begin. And in tennis the grace of the game, especially when judged by a television performance, appears infinitely easier than the way it really is. Thus, the beginning player who is attracted to
Total Health Tennis may see the validity of the idea, but may still find unavoidable the pain and reality of a process which will not replace his awkwardness overnight with the grace of the performing professional.
For a person who has ignored any systematic maintenance of his health through the years, or the person who may be overweight, or for the person who has simply been led away from physical activity through the technology of our age, the process of ‘‘getting in shape’’ is a painful one. There is no getting around it. It often seems as though every fiber and every muscle in your body is aching. It takes courage to stick it out and to come back because of an idea, even when that compelling idea is your own health. For that, a bit of pain can become suddenly worthwhile. There are the smokers who cough their way around my tennis courts as they do their first laps, yet they are the same beautiful people who sixteen weeks later are running two miles a day with clear eyes and more energy than they have had in years. Those are the people who faced the thresholds of pain and of frustration, and they faced them not only as they ‘‘got in shape,’’ but during the skill development of controlling the flight of that elusive tennis ball. The key word to facing these difficult obstacles is courage. It takes courage to work on yourself, and it takes facing a bit of reality to know that no one is going to do it for you. The title of Erica Jong’s most recent book makes it significant if for no other reason—How to Save Your
Own Life. Is it not interesting that we would have ever been presumptuous enough to think anyone should or would do that task for us? A marshmallow might roll over and say, ‘‘Save me, please.’’ A person of courage will be so busy working on the problem himself that the pitiful failing option will not even occur to him.
We are living in a competitive age, an age that thrives on results and getting the job done. Those persons most able to get their jobs done are also the ones who know and care about themselves. They are persons who regulate their own lives systematically, and that is why good health and appearance is all part of the same productive ball game. In the 1960s, it was fashionable to grow a beard, as a part of the ‘‘uniform’’ of the hippy. Hippies were supposed to be smart, sort of intellectual, and to have access to some special truth that was somehow hidden from the rest of the world. The fad became ‘‘reaction in opposite.’’ Because they cared, they took on the appearance of not caring at all. The movement is now over, its message having been delivered. Similarly, overt materialism and spiffy Wall Street clothes have lost any implied social message.
Now a wide social spectrum agrees on the value of a regulated and healthful life without a lot of extremes. The most productive people are often those who value themselves. They may wear a flannel shirt and a pair of Levis as a part of enjoying a Colorado wilderness ‘‘high,’’ but the hidden story is likely to be that they have also maintained the health of their body very systematically throughout the years. You can recognize the color in a person’s face, and whether their eyes shine as they smile. It is not hard to detect the person who is in control of himself. Those seeking opportunity today should keep this obvious fact of life in mind, for those in positions to employ or reward will certainly not overlook it. An individual is not often given responsibilities over others when it is clear that he or she may not yet have accepted proper responsibility for himself or herself. An individual who has accepted responsibility for himself will be conscious of his weight, his diet, and he will take a preventive maintenance approach to his continued well-being. Such people are properly the leaders of this age of assertiveness and competition, and they will remain easy to recognize. They are our renaissance people.
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VISUALIZATION IS A personal preview of the best and the possible. Its subject matter is necessarily abstract but in its application it becomes objective reality. There are many forms of visualization and they have been present since the Hermetic philosophy of Egypt three thousand years before Christ. Some are deeply meditative in nature and are commonly associated with
Eastern religious thought, while others have a more practical application to everyday life. In all cases, however, the subject matter remains abstract and especially ambiguous to Western man. The reason is the effect of science and technology on our culture, particularly its commitment to problem-solving methods that demand logical and concrete proof. Scientific methods give the impression of being antithetical to any area of study so securely cradled in the sanctuary of the human mind as visualization; yet, ways are being found to take advantage of both of these powerful styles of mind.
The idea that a particular mental image can bring forth responses in the real world is not new. The only thing that is really new is the vantage point from which we now approach an area of study that has intrigued man through the ages. Philosophers and priests have historically used visualization as a tool for growth and rebirth.
‘‘Beginning with Hermes [the Egyptian Hermes Trismegistres], a spiritual philosophy was born based on primacy of mind, as opposed to primacy of matter.’’?' Even as long ago as this, man was aware of the effect images held in the mind had on their physical universe. We see things not so much as they are but as we are;
thereafter, we bend reality to fit our perception of it.
It is hard to deny the credibility of parts of Alvin Toffler’s book
Future Shock because we are all living with the reality of the technological pace we ourselves have set. Essentially, it would now appear that technology is controlling us, that it is harder than ever to get away, and that it is ever so difficult to put the transmission of life into neutral—even if it be for only a few moments. It is for this reason that many people today are seeking to reestablish a oneness away from the technology around them. They want a new orientation with the original ‘‘Mother.’’ For example, more people are seeking the wilderness of Colorado every day, whether it be to navigate the soft powder on skis, to explore the wilds through backpacking, or to feel the rush of cold mountain water in a canoe.
Modern man seems to be ironically trying to reestablish the same kind of unity between the physical and spiritual universe that the
“‘noble savage’’ of American folklore held years ago.
Weare people who live on the roof of the world; we are the sons of Father Sun, and with our religion we daily help our father go across the sky. We do this not only for ourselves, but for the whole world. If we were to cease practicing our religion, in ten years the sun would no longer rise. Then it would be night forever.”?
Carl Jung’s response is to pose the dilemma of the less-contented intellectual who knows that: ‘‘Knowledge does not enrich us, it removes us more and more from the mythic world in which we were once at home by right of birth.’’??
We cannot escape the use of words to think with whether we are cursing ourselves on a tennis court, debating our success or failure in a committee meeting, or admiring the sexual overtones of an attractive mate while we should be working. We congratulate and we scold ourselves silently through the vehicle of language. It is a part of us; it extends us. Yet, historically, the use and development of visualization can be documented to have occurred in an inverse relation to the development of language, particularly its written form. Initially, as in the case of hieroglyphics, language was based more purely on images. As words appeared which were more abstract than simple icons, attempts were still made to evoke imagi-
Unfortunately, the continued evolution of the written word dramatically increased the distance between what the human eye saw and the meaning of the symbol. Eventually, speakers learned to deliberately establish distance between themselves and their own experience. The perceptions of others were likewise externalized.
There is nothing inherently wrong with this; however, there is no denying the negative effect it has had on man’s ability to relate closely to the essence of his world. The use of language to systematically categorize life’s experiences does not have to negate sensation-sharing experiences, but it does tend to reduce their credibility. What literate man now faces is the necessity of breaking through a conditioned inclination to enclose life in labels and abstractions and the vehicle which seems best suited to this purpose is ‘‘visualization.’’ This search for unity with experience can take place through meditation, Yoga exercise, or any experience toward which one chooses to focus the visionary capacity of his mind. Our particular target area, of course, is our own health and the skill development required to master the game of tennis.
If a person is to play a truly thoughtful and feeling game of tennis, he must establish a personal awareness of the environment he seeks to control. He must, of course, be aware of his own body in a very personal way, but he must also feel an intimate knowledge of the tools he uses as well as the court on which he plays. The following guidelines are but the personal thoughts of this author about the kinds of relationships that can be established on the court through the vehicle of visualization.
The Racquet. Many people have a very detached relationship with their tennis racquet. It is not uncommon to see them thrown into the trunk of the car, left in the dampness of the garage, or even thrown face down in anger during the act of playing the game. To persons of this mind, their racquet is no more than a replaceable tool. There is no personal relationship between themselves and their racquet.
I make special efforts to really know my tennis racquet since I consider it to be an extension of myself. In the act of playing the game, it is important to feel the sensation of the ball on the strings.
This must proceed through the shot to the racquet, to the grip, and finally into your hand. I find myself very often holding my racquet at home while carrying on a totally unrelated conversation. I can unconsciously hold the grip, and I feel as though I really know the racquet as a part of myself, as a true extension of my arm.
Another footnote concerning my racquet concerns the fact that I enjoy stringing my own racquet. Naturally, most people in the world have neither the ability nor equipment to do this and I mention it only because it is another means for me personally to feel a oneness with my own racquet. There is something nice about the feel of the unstrung gut and the knowledge that its uncreased weave was put there under my own direction. There is some considerable art in stringing a tennis racquet, and it is one that affords a special pleasure to me as I prepare a racquet for my own use.
The Ball. A person does not have to be walking around in a daze to enjoy some of the personal insights which contribute to a feeling of oneness with the game. With respect to the ball, as previously noted with the racquet, detailed familiarity is helpful. For example, the tennis ball has seams, and for the observant player it will be these same seams that will catch his eye as the ball approaches. Tim
Gallwey’s great prescription in his book, The Inner Game of
Tennis, was to ‘‘watch the seams of the ball.’’ I certainly feel that this is a good idea and I recommend that every thoughtful student become aware of what the seams look and feel like. The intensity of concentration is, of course, what is at stake. Furthermore, the tennis ball has a certain texture that changes with use and it is good to have a conscious awareness of exactly how much fuzz is or is not left on the ball you are about to use. Its speed and bounce vary accordingly. If you are using new balls, I recommend that you pause to enjoy opening the new can, hearing the pressure of the can as it is released, and detecting that unique smell which brings back childhood memories of a game that is never fresher or newer than on those rare occasions when new balls can be afforded.
The Court. The court, delineated by its lines of seventy-eight by thirty-six feet, has an illusive quality that has challenged and stood in defiance of even the very best. Those measurements are always there, and they have remained the same as long as the game has been played. A twilight walk on a tennis court with no one else around can be a nostalgic experience for the sensitive player who identifies with his surroundings. There is something especially luring about those dimensions (in spite of their apparent objective neutrality) and it is important to feel a closeness with them. You should establish a love affair with the challenge they represent.
That challenge is a measure of the reach of man, not unlike the magic four-minute mile for the runner. It is important to feel ‘‘in tune’’ with the environment of the court and to be thoroughly familiar with all of its parts, including the height of the net and the very texture of its surface. It is an interesting experience to view, silently and alone as with the twilight walk just noted, the imposing height of the net from the perspective of the other end of the day, the early dawn as the sun comes up, with the gentle breeze in the air. Anticipation of the day’s challenges can make this perspective an unmatched experience for the inspired purist of the game. Those lines and all of the court’s composite challenge will remain a cold and unyielding standard. It is the human variable that changes.
Man himself provides all the highs and lows of the tennis drama, his personal limits ultimately becoming the limits of the game.
The Ready Position. The ready position is just what its name implies. It is a position of the body that stands at maximum readiness for movement. Movement is the essence of tennis inasmuch as the most obvious fact of all is that someone is hitting the ball away from you for your impairment. To solve this problem one must master the concept and reality of adaption through movement. The tennis point is an ever-flowing act of preparation, and central to this is the position in which one holds his racquet between each shot. It is this position that is commonly known as
The ready position is obtained by facing the net and by mentally readying oneself for potential action on either side of the body. The racquet should be cradled at the throat in the left hand (assuming one is right-handed) and it should be held lightly there. Persons who clutch their racquet or grab it at the throat are always more frantic in the tennis experience than those who carry it softly. This is true of the right hand as well, as it holds the grip of the shot. One should never let the pressure to perform affect the rigidity of the body. It is not necessary to grip the racquet tightly except as the ball contacts the racquet. It is important to remember that the game is an experience in fluidity, and this can never be achieved if the muscle tone on either the right or left arm is rigid. The goal of the inspired player is to find and experience the art of the game, and this is done in the same way that the reed bows to the forces of the wind—naturally. The artful tennis experience can never be a brittle, segmented performance.
Because being ready requires a readiness not only to stroke but to move, there are specific visualization techniques that are helpful for one’s legs and feet as well. It is important, for example, not to be rooted to the court with the weight of your body on your heels.
The trunk of your body should be slightly curled forward at the waist, and the weight distributed on the insides of your feet with your knees bent. I find it particularly beneficial to sway slightly from side to side as I wait for the initial start of the point in order to keep the weight of my body from being isolated. The sway of-gentle movement and light touch on the throat of my racquet with my left hand prepare me for the smoothness of movement that is to come. I become at one with the movement of the ball as it approaches, and I do not wait until it bounces to frantically chase it down. There is a flow present with every tennis exchange and I always try to become a part of that most beautiful movement. It is an act of control and much of one’s success in blending with it lies in adequate visualization of the true concept of ‘‘being ready.’’
The Grip. How a person holds his tennis racquet is of utmost importance. It is, however, an experience that must be ‘‘felt,’’ because the tennis point requires that a number of shots be hit ina row. This is opposed, of course, to a more segmented experience such as golf, where a person is able to deliberate longer for each specific shot hit. Once the ball is in play, there is never time to look down and check one’s grip. The golfer, on the other hand, can preoccupy himself to the point of obsession with how he holds his club. The tennis player must feel his grips, and how vividly he can do this will depend a great deal on his ability to visualize the shape of the racquet grip in his hand.
Proper grips are absolutely critical to effective stroking because they directly determine the angle of the racquet face as it contacts the ball. Furthermore, when done properly, they serve to align the wrist in a supportive position behind the racquet. This firmness of the wrist is what allows the player to experience the sensation of oneness between his racquet and his body.
The eastern forehand grip is most commonly attained by shaking hands with the racquet. This common procedure will align the ‘‘V”’ in your hand between the thumb and first finger on top of the slanted edge of your racquet on the right side (for right-handed players). It should be possible to have a very specific awareness of not only the ‘‘V”’ in your hand as it rests on that bevel, but of the creases in your hand and how they fit into position on your grip. Also, it is important that the first finger be slightly separated from the other fingers of the hand in such a way as to give a wider grip and therefore more control over the racquet and the stroking process. Hitting from a closed fist, which is a common inclination of beginners, always induces a more wristy ‘‘slapping’’ effect into the ball.
The eastern backhand grip for the right-handed player is but a quarter of a turn to the left edge of the racquet. This turn is not a time-consuming obstacle as many novices like to think, because it is a process that is always done at the same time the player does something else. It takes only a fraction of a second, and the precise process requires that this slight change in grip be done by turning the throat of the racquet with the left hand. The beginning player who has not mastered the ready position will often try and flip the racquet full circle when changing grips, and it is for this reason that it will go way too far around and miss the proper grip altogether.
The act of changing grips is always most effectively done by gently turning the racquet with the fingers of the left hand and by doing it only a quarter of a turn—enough to keep the angle of the racquet face perpendicular to the ground at impact, and enough to set the wrist firmly behind the impact of the shot.
The Volley. The volley in tennis is the name of the shot contacted in the air before the ball bounces, and this is the first tennis shot I teach my students. This is where visualization begins. It is a very controlled environment, not only for the student to first begin experiencing the coordination of movement in their hands and feet, but it is an excellent place to begin their awareness of the flight of the ball. Visualization of the ball as it approaches is quite important. The ball is a spear, like a vapor trail, that is passing through space and it occupies a specific plane (i.e., height and arc) as it approaches. One should be supersensitive to that flight and to
its velocity as it passes through space towards your racquet. It is always a player’s job, of course, to guide the center of his racquet onto this same plane. This is why precise recognition of the plane is so vitally important.
When volleying, it is always to one’s advantage to get fairly close to the net. The best position is approximately one-third of the way from the net to the service line. Any farther back than this and one faces the liability of having to ‘‘volley up,’’ and this is a very difficult proposition for even the best of players. Our goal should always be to move the ball in such a way as to ‘‘volley down.’’
There are several facts of life that must be dealt with when encountering a ball from a short distance. Being so close to the net, one has about half as much time to respond. It is for this reason that a person’s actual swing into the ball must be comparatively short, and the swift body movement to reach the ball must be the most efficient possible. This shortness of swing is referred to by many as blocking the ball or punching it. In essence, it means no backswing and no follow-through. As far as footwork is concerned, moving efficiently necessitates always stepping across. This single fact will allow the player to cover almost twice as much ground and is particularly important in a shot where the player is forced to cover the same width of the court but in about half the time.
The Forehand Volley. The forehand volley is most often the first tennis shot learned by beginning students. It requires from the very start that they coordinate their hands and feet. I gently feed the ball in a predictable arc so that it can be defined clearly and encourage them to, gently and softly, return the ball to me no faster than I hit it to them. I encourage them to watch the seams of the ball as it approaches and to activate all of their senses so that they ‘‘feel’’ the entire sensation of the ball on the strings. Touching the ball softly, feeling and guiding their body into a sideways position, is the thrust of this first learning experience.
Through his mind’s eye, the player should be ready with a preformed image of the upcoming action, his weight gently shifting from side to side in his ready position, while the ball approaches.
His vision should focus on the flight of the ball coming toward him, and the oneness of his left foot crossing and his right arm blocking the ball should all be felt: He should come to know his movement as a completely integrated experience, one that softly returns the ball, while then gliding in uninterrupted motion back to readiness for the next shot.
The Backhand Volley. The specific techniques for forehand and backhand volleys are essentially the same on both sides except that the footwork changes conversely and the player guides his racquet back into position with the left hand on the racquet’s throat. The execution of the backhand volley requires that the right foot cross as the ball approaches, and that the left hand guide the racquet back, and then gently let go as the racquet punches forward toward its meeting with the flight of the ball. In both forehand and backhand volley, the racquet face should be essentially facing the net at the completion of the shot, and this is an image I try to instill early in my students. Side-to-side volley drills impart this message very quickly to even the most beginning student, since it makes them realize exactly how much movement and preparation is required to maintain the continuity of a tennis point.
These side-to-side drills begin with the ready position, swaying back and forth and waiting; then, as the ball approaches, allowing the left foot to cross, racquet back, and then blocking the ball;
returning to the center, maintaining that constant rhythm, changing grip, guiding the racquet back, stepping with the right foot, blocking the ball; returning to the center and staying with the flow, changing grip, turning, stepping, contacting the ball, returning to the middle, and so on. This is an everflowing, always moving experience in the art form of tennis, and this can begin during a player’s very first lesson. It is an experience in the grace of continuous movement, and it is a lesson in the importance of maintaining continuity between the mental image and action.
The High Volley and Low Volley. The game invites an infinite variety of player responses, and it is for this reason that one must be able to deal with all heights and levels of the ball as it approaches. The tennis experience is, by definition, everchanging and always moving. The mental exercise of detached visualization such as this reading will prepare the student well for the uncertainty always present in the game. It will serve to eliminate surprises, and it will activate your subconscious mind to respond more instinctively and in better preparation.
High balls for the player at net are a dream come true because they offer such substantial angle into the opponent’s court. They are missed quite often, however, by inexperienced players who, through a desire to ‘‘kill’’ the ball, overplay their shot by making their swing too big and altering the technique of sound stroke production. One must always remember the importance of retaining the continuity of thoughtful stroke-making. Within the context of the volley, this means keeping the swing short, placing the ball, and positioning the body properly by stepping across and keeping the shoulders turned sideways. I find that controlling high balls centers largely around my ability to lean on the front side of my body, in the case of my forehand volley to really press on my left leg and /ean on my left shoulder as I contact the ball. In the case of the backhand volley, I concentrate on leaning on my right shoulder, on keeping my right arm straight so that I do not push the ball with unnecessary flexibility in my elbow, and on keeping my wrist firm so as not to let it flop over the ball and dump it in the net. All of these reminders are tantamount to saying keep your basic volley technique the same, with the intensity of focus in your mind being primarily aimed at the dynamics of leaning more. Do not slap, hit, or power the ball. Stay calm and in control and flow with the opportunity to conclude the point that is now at hand.
Low volleys are a very sophisticated tennis shot. They require that the player get down with the ball, and this means not only that their knees bend but that their faces get down near the impact of the ball. It is impossible to make low volleys successfully from a detached viewpoint high above the contacting point. You cannot, for example, fail to bend your knees and simply drop your racquet head and scoop the ball up. In order to make a low volley, the player must be consciously aware of his racquet. It is noteworthy here that this shot requires /ess swing than any other in tennis. It is simply a matter of taking the body down with the ball, feeling the intimacy of association and control, and opening the face of the racquet so that the pace already on. the approaching ball does the work for you. It allows the ball to literally bounce off your racquet.
It is not a question of hitting the ball back. That would be a gross overreaction and not within the realm of the ‘‘touch’’ and ‘‘feel’’ necessary to execute this shot. In a way very similar to the high volley, the low volley requires a fundamental simplification of every part of the stroking process. The swing, however, is even shorter than a regular or high volley, and watching the ball intently is absolutely imperative. It is not uncommon on shots like this to become distracted by the tape of the net, or preoccupied by where you intend to hit the ball. Because of its inherent precision, it is absolutely necessary that the player follow the ball all the way to the strings of his racquet. There is never any substitute for watching the ball, and absolute focus as it approaches is quite essential during this most delicate shot.
The Groundstrokes. The term groundstroke in tennis is used in reference to all balls encountered after they have bounced one time.
Because of this, these shots are most often hit considerably farther away from the net than the volley just described, and it is for this reason that they require more forward energy to project the ball farther. This energy is only naturally projected through the use of a larger swing. In other words, when hitting the ball from the baseline, one’s backswing must be larger, and one’s swing should be allowed to continue after impact in a portion of the swing known as follow-through. In terms of the act of visualization, the player should become as in tune as possible with the flight of the ball as it approaches. An increased awareness of its arc over the net and its velocity is absolutely necessary. The swing should start back early as the ball leaves the opponent’s racquet, thus allowing the calculating process of the mind to have already begun as early as when the player takes that first step in anticipation of the ball.
The Forehand Drive. Every aspect of hitting groundstrokes is the same as that in the volley except the size of the swing. That is to say, all elements of body position relative to impact with the ball are always constant. Within the context of the forehand drive, this means that the initial image as one approaches the ball is to get sideways. The first pivot at the waist will turn the body into position, while the left hand should begin gently guiding the racquet into its backswing. This should occur at the same time that the left foot begins to step over, and the arm and racquet should continue in motion throughout the swing without hesitation. It is possible to visualize the swing paralleling the shape of a small letter
‘*c,’’ inasmuch as rhythmic motion demands that the racquet head not stop or hitch in the backswing. The racquet head should be guided back in a position higher than the level of the waist and about shoulder high, and then should gradually arc around until the racquet shaft is parallel to the ground. It is in this position that it should proceed forward toward impact with the ball. This should most ideally occur with the racquet parallel to the ground and at about waist height. From this point, the momentum created by the continuing motion of the swing should pull the arm forward after the ball. This part of the swing is known as the follow-through, exactly as its name would seem to imply, follow-through, following the ball. At the completion of this shot, the player should then catch the racquet at its throat and smoothly guide it back into a ready position for the next encounter.
It is most important to visualize the continuity of movement prerequisite to playing the artistic point. That is, once the point has begun, the specific movement of the player’s body should not be segmented or interrupted. It is not a stop and start situation;
rather, it is an ever-moving and flowing aesthetic experience of grace. Your mental image must include a definition of beauty and you must guard yourself against thinking of it ‘‘as only a game.”’
The thoughtful player will look at himself as a creator and master planner who through introspection will learn to live the reality of spiritual and physical oneness within himself.
The Backhand Drive. When introducing forehands and backhands to my students, I always stress the continuity of the game. The world’s most graceful players have always mastered that unique quality. They have not appeared to use one stroking method on one side of their body and another on the other side. With this in mind,
I instruct the backhand as merely the converse of the forehand. In this way, the racquet should be gently guided back with the left hand at the throat, giving the player a vehicle to support the weight of the racquet and allowing him to keep the racquet head high. This duplicates the small letter ‘‘c’’ in our forehand backswing, and it insures the continuity of uninterrupted motion. This motion requires that the racquet head proceed back about shoulder high and curl around during the backswing at a level about waist high, when the racquet is parallel to the ground. It should sweep forward into impact with the momentum of the swing being in the top of the racquet. This momentum will serve to pull the arm forward naturally into the follow-through of the swing. It is important to note that the follow-through is a natural flowing process, not one to be rigidly manipulated in the manner of many novice players.
Your arm should not be locked and should not stop in frozen motion at the completion of the swing. It should flow forward along the path of the ball and then curl back again, since the player should be readying himself for his next shot.
The backhand drive is one of the most natural shots in the game of tennis because the arm of the hitter is located in the front of his body. This gives him an almost pendulum-like swing into the ball. If this pendulum action occurs with the racquet parallel to the ground at impact, one will experience a most exhilarating sense of power by uncoiling. The backswing on both forehand and backhand, but particularly on backhand, allows the shoulders to curl inward just enough to create a bodily coil in the upper part of the body. The unleashing of this coil need not be hard or dramatic, but the fact that it does exist allows for a very natural and flowing approach of the racquet into the ball. This inherent acceleration of motion will make the follow-through a natural occurrence and not a manipulated one.
Persons who incorrectly manipulate their swing on backhand are likely to have too much of their motion originating in their elbow.
The elbow should not lead the swing, rather the arm should be kept close to the body in order to prevent this kind of pushing action.
The swing should always originate at the shoulder since it is this position that establishes that fundamental continuity between the racquet and the arm. It necessitates that one not only stroke the ball with an arm and racquet oneness, but that one hold the racquet properly. If the racquet is held too far around, for example, on backhand, it will create an angle between the racquet and arm that cannot be overcome as it proceeds forward, and it is for this reason that it will inhibit the follow-through. This is what I refer to as pushing the ball. All beginners tend to push the ball, rather than stroke it, on backhand. More than anything, this response is one of fear. A ping-pong push of sorts tends to make the player feel more secure about keeping the ball within the lines.
Needless to say, proper visualization techniques should always transcend value judgments concerning where the ball actually goes during the learning process. Visualization at this point must always be centered on the act of proper hitting technique and awareness of your own body. And this can never be mixed with the externality of success and failure with respect to the lines on the court. Whether the ball is in or out, and how any specific action may or may not affect game scores, present or future, is absolutely irrelevant. A perfected synergy of movement, of course, raises aggregate scores and in the end justifies the perfectionist approach to technique. High and Low Groundstrokes. Dealing with high balls from the baseline is a totally different experience than encountering them at the net. Not only do you fail to have any substantial angle down into the court to work from, but the distance from your hitting position to the'net is significantly greater. In most cases, high balls on baseline shots are also balls with a minimum amount of pace.
This should tell the hitter immediately that he must be careful. One of the most common errors made by the novice player is overhitting slow balls and attempting to attack them in a manner similar to the way described at the net. Proper visualization should guide the body with an awareness of this liability. Even the best players in the world realize the difficulty of applying excess pace to these balls.
As far as specific visualization is concerned, I find it useful to imagine returning the ball in a way similar to which it approached.
In that context, the only exception would be when the opposing player follows his shot to the net. This simple strategy allows the player to simply put the high ball initiative back into his opponent’s lap. Returning a semi-lob with another of the same kind is not that difficult. The difficulty always lies either with impatience or lack of knowledge when handling balls of this type. For example, it is not unusual to see even the most experienced player back up so that these balls come down to a more comfortable stroking level.
If balls of this type are encountered in doubles where a net man is almost always present, or in singles when the opponent chooses to follow this shot to the net, much more care must be taken with our choices. Visualization must include keeping these returns low and away from the opponent in such a manner as to make him volley up, a strategy that would open play on the next shot. These are not
“‘nower shots,’’ and it is often tempting for the more inexperienced player to feel as though all passing shots must be hard shots. This is not true. The visualization process when hitting these balls should include a delicate feel of the ball on the strings and a gentle placement to either side of the court. This requires not only a vivid imagery of the ball being carried on the strings but of the path of the ball changing and of successfully passing the opponent after contact with the racquet.
Remember that visualization in any act can be either positive or negative. Negative visualization is just as destructive as positive imagery is constructive. On high threat shots such as high balls, shots where the player is given almost too much time to think, this seemingly obvious fact becomes important. Remember that fear is anxiety-producing, and that lack of confidence has a way of almost always fulfilling its own prophesy.
Low balls within the game of tennis differ from high ones in that their speed, flight, and degree of spin are all more variable. This makes playing the low ball infinitely more unpredictable. In any case, handling the low ball always requires that the player lower his own center of gravity in relation to the court. It is desirable to have the feeling, unlikely as it may seem, of being a part of the court.
Many players tend to lunge or leap or reach in a manner that seems contradictory to this. It has been my experience that the greatest stroke masters in the game usually maintain a high degree of oneness with the court on which they play. Jimmy Connors, for example, may power high balls by jumping and throwing his weight into them, but very few people have ever stayed as low on the low balls as he does. Ken Rosewall is another wonderful example of a player who maintained a definite oneness with the court through his technique. In teaching, I have found it helpful to have students lower their trailing knee all the way to the court surface as I feed them gentle practice shots from a basket. It gives the player the sensation of being lower than ever before, and it adds new perspective as far as perception of the flight of the ball over the net is concerned. Studying the flight of the ball from a low vantage point is extremely useful because it makes one aware of the net, and the role it really plays as a barrier to the flight of the ball. This means to the thoughtful player that he must literally, in some way, lift the ball up in order to get it over the net. This seemingly obvious fact is one of the most overlooked axioms of tennis, mainly because it is possible to see the opposing court in our vision through the net. By keeping one leg down on the court and thereby lowering our perspective, it is possible to somehow get a more realistic vision of exactly what it takes to handle low balls effectively. For example, low balls that are short must always be handled delicately, and can never be hit hard and flat at the same time. The trajectory of a hard hit flat ball will always go up—over the net, yes, but somewhere outside the back line. The only way to hit a short ball hard is with the application of top-spin as a controlling agent, and this is a very advanced technique. It requires a very delicate but high speed brushing of the back of the ball rather than contacting it from directly behind.
The essence of low groundstrokes, then, lies in the player’s ability to stay down, and to realize even on the most conscious level that the net really is in his way. This barrier is, indeed, an obstacle and one over which the ball must be lifted. This lift must be handled with precision and exactly how much is required is totally dependent on the depth of the ball as it is encountered on the court.
Short low balls have to be handled more softly than those all the way back. The feeling of movement is all encompassing but it must center within a person’s legs. The player must have certain knowledge that his legs are a vehicle and that they will lead him to the flow of the point. The Overhead Smash. The overhead smash is without a doubt one of the most decisive shots in tennis, but more importantly to me, it is a stepping stone for my students to learn serving. Never has visualization of the flight of the ball been more important than in the overhead smash. The arc of the ball is always different, and at times it appears to be dropping straight down. This is particularly difficult because there is no external part of the court (your target area) in the back field of your vision. As one approaches contact with a ball lobbed over one’s head, there is no other frame of reference with which to judge the ball except the sky. Obviously this is no earthly reference, and it is for that reason that it is often difficult to judge the precise fall of the ball. Having earthly, part of the court, frames of reference is very important.
The most significant imagery the player should incorporate when hitting an overhead smash centers around the movement of his feet and the fact that they and only they are the vehicle which can carry him to proper position beneath the ball. This movement should be done by means of very rhythmic side steps that align the body directly beneath the ball in a sideways position. There should be a very special and unified rhythm felt in the arms as the right arm goes back in an abbreviated motion behind the head, while the left hand goes up in a motion that will parallel that of the toss in serving. This action of the left hand is not inconsequential because it is the main agent for balance in this very difficult shot. Furthermore, the raising of the left hand can serve as an aiming device of sorts, whereby the player can use it as a secondary pattern in his visual image to guide himself underneath the ball. Once underneath the ball and well planted with the weight on the back foot, the prominent sensation of this shot should be the feeling of extension into the ball. This, of course, requires that one judge the falling ball properly. If this is done, a fully outstretched body, to the point of reaching up on one’s toes, will characterize this shot. This extension will move all of the weight of the player’s body into the shot and it will give him maximum angle down into his opponent’s court. The imagery one should incorporate in hitting the overhead smash should be one of continuous and flowing movement. It should begin with the identification of the arc of the ball and the flight you wish to direct it, and it should be accompanied by a gradual retreat underneath the ball. At this time, the right foot should be planted and an extension begun. This occurs after the player has set himself underneath the shot, with the left hand acting as a guiding mechanism for the body placement. The overhead smash is one of the most decisive shots in tennis and it is an ideal preface to the totally self-contained motion of serving.
The placement of the overhead smash is consistent with the placement of any tennis ball inasmuch as it is directly related to the openness or closeness of the player’s stance. For example, if the hitter desires to hit the ball down the line, he should close his stance more than if he chooses to hit crosscourt. These axioms of placement are as true for the overhead smash as for any other shot.
The crosscourt placement will leave the shoulders more facing the net, or more ‘‘open.’’ The degree of openness or closeness of the player’s stance is what affects the angle at which the racquet contacts the ball. A more inexperienced player will make errors in overhead placement if their efforts to control the ball center around manipulation of the racquet with the wrist. It should never be the goal of the thoughtful player to change his swing for placement.
Placements require that the swing itself remain consistent, but that the point of contact, and therefore the point of position, be maneuvered in a constructive and thoughtful way.
In summary, visualization seems to involve an underdeveloped dimension of human intelligence. It is not totally mysterious, however, because such attributes seem to respond to deliberate cultivation and training.
Many aspects of behavior are ‘‘automatic,’’ almost like heartbeat and swallowing, until intentionally raised to a level of consciousness. A superficial example is memory of which shoelace you tied first this morning—it’s probably the same one to come first every morning for as long as you can remember. A complex example is the use of biofeedback (via handwarming) techniques to reduce blood pressure and the likelihood of an impending migraine headache.
This chapter has stressed consciousness-raising strategies for refining specific tennis techniques. More importantly, it has built a case for a gestalt of related techniques which, upon mastery, rise above the level of the sum of their parts. The result is, once again, virtually automatic behavior in which the mind does not find it necessary to use a checklist for every court response. But this time the aggregate behavior is refined well beyond chance, producing a tennis player who responds like a well-tuned engine to whatever demands are placed upon him. Visualizing the integrated final result is the strategy which leads to perfection.
THERE ARE SEVERAL SPORTS other than tennis that immediately evoke an artistic, as well as an athletic, response from the participant. They have in common the disciplined behavior of a single individual. A gymnast, for example, relates most profoundly to his own body and to a particular piece of apparatus. Similarly individualistic exercises are seen in the martial arts sequences of the late Kung Fu master, Bruce Lee. In gymnastic movement, as well as the Kung Fu self-defense exercises, the participant is involved in the personal mastery of a very contained exercise that is always flowing and in definite harmony with a rhythm he himself sets. While the
Kung Fu exercise is a ritualized preparation for the possibility of encounter with another individual, the emphasis of. the sport lies in the mastery of specific body movements and responses. It is an integrated and artistic experience developed in the Far East where people characteristically value introspective meanings which can be expressed as a disciplined total life.
More familiar to those of us in the United States would be the graceful moves of ice skaters like Peggy Fleming, whose gliding motion represents a poetic exercise in continuous movement. The fluidity of such a performance is evident to even the casual observer of the skater’s uninterrupted program, well-suited to musical accompaniment; likewise, the floor exercises in gymnastics.
Veteran performers Olga Korbut and Nellie Kim, and the youthful star Nadia Comaneci were brilliant examples in the last Olympic games. In another field, the screen classic, West Side Story, was not only a successful musical but it was an artistic application of modern dance to a contemporary New York theme. More recently,
Hollywood’s box office hit, Rocky, contains fight sequences that were choreographed down to the very last blow. Every jab, every left hook, every dodging, feinting move was preplanned. When interviewed on television, author-actor Sylvester Stallone was able to recreate the exact movements portrayed in the movie sequence of the final fight. The perfection of body movement thus became a major communications medium. Had the fight been for real, a winner would have likely resulted from-_such meticulous attention to detail. The competitive personal sports seem to respond especially well to perfectionist preconditioning.
All of these sports have been described because they illustrate a mastery of movement and continuous motion at a very high level.
This is not an inconsistent theme in the game of tennis either, since slow motion replays of championship matches always depict the great players staying in continuous flowing motion from the beginning of a point to the very end. It is not a segmented ‘‘run here, then run there’’ kind of performance. The art of tennis is ever-moving and always graceful and continuous. For the individual learning the game, the most obvious complication to becoming familiar with this kind of rhythm is the ball. The fact that it is moving and being constructively hit away from the player acts as a considerable impairment to well-integrated and artful expression. Most of the other performances just described do not have any direct external obstacles to their success. Tennis, however, like boxing, is an act of competition, and there is an opponent on the other side of the net intentionally trying to complicate your task.
Although it seems revolutionary now, it appears possible that mastery of the classical body movements of tennis can occur before mastery of the ball. I have found a great deal of personal success with all of my students when I stress mastery of a personal rhythm and feel of movement before they attempt to hit the ball back and forth, or to play the game. It seems that once a person is contaminated by the act of competition, it is very difficult to undo the unconscious self-generated pressure to master the score rather than themselves. Many of my players have found the idea of tennis choreography to be very helpful, inasmuch as it makes it possible for them to master specific tennis movements alone. After these sophisticated bodily moves become recognizable and repeatable, almost all players find it much easier to transfer the experience to the act of hitting the ball. These players become artists of the game and always relate to their experience differently than the players who began their learning cycle from the other end of the skill sequence. A person can choose to hack his way to victory by getting the ball over the net any way he can think of, or he can choose a more beautiful and self-contained exercise of controlling himself.
The interesting footnote to this prescription is that not only do the tennis artists experience a more rewarding result from their effort personally, they dissipate less energy in awkward body isometrics.
The increased endurance and performance control do not assure victory, but that is usually the result.
The most unusual aspect of the tennis choreography when first observed is the fact that there is no racquet or ball. The exercise of tennis choreography is strictly related to the specific movements of different parts of the body in simulated swinging motions, and in the feet in order to reinforce correct and rhythmic footwork. The experience becomes much like a tennis ballet and it is useful to perform in front of a mirror, so as to reinforce this proper technique through the use of images and visualization as already discussed in previous chapters.
Lateral Foot Movement. Effective movement during a tennis point requires that the player always establish a consistent position to the ball. This necessitates that a prédetermined alignment of the feet always be attained. (The specifics of these techniques are discussed in subsequent chapters.) The player uses foot positioning to establish consistency in stroking the ball. Competence centers around his ability to move in small, rhythmic steps not unlike Muhammad Ali’s carefully controlled ‘‘dance’’ and ‘‘shuffle.’? The novice player will be more inclined to reach for the ball with a measure of desperation and to move in very large steps—movement which is much more cumbersome and less effective in terms of speed and the resulting body position for returning the ball. It is for this reason that one of the first choreographed moves for our tennis exercise be lateral movement in small steps which leads the player into a sideways hitting position. The sequence begins by turning the shoulders to the right (if you are a right-handed player attempting a forehand drive) and then running smoothly in small steps to the side, ending up in such a manner as to plant the lead foot (in this case the left leg) and then simulate the swinging motion with the right arm. This sequence should begin from the classic ready position, then lead smoothly to the right side with both arms acting in unison in an effort to give the player a distinct feeling of balance during the exercise. Many tennis players forget the use of their left hand and for this reason are more off balance than those who consider the limbs of their body as parts of a whole that can and should be perfectly balanced for sound stroke execution. The simulation of the swing should lead the right hand back in continuous motion with no hitching in the backswing and no unnecessary movement of the wrist, a common error likely to occur if the player had begun these dry run exercises by holding a racquet.
The idea is to feel the motion of the arm and therefore the racquet as an extension of the arm once it is introduced to the learning experience. A smooth motion of the right arm should then lead to an extension in front of the body, at which time the player should simulate and visualize precisely what a correct follow-through and conclusion to the swing should be. It is at that point that the player should bring his two arms back to a simulation of the ready position and, without stopping, shuffle gracefully back to the center of the court.
An Imaginary Court. These exercises need not be performed on a tennis court but the visualization of the participant should include the lines of the court and the fact that he must return to the center in order to defend it properly. These shuffle steps just described are very much like those used by basketball players when they defend against a team that has the offense. They are steps that are very rhythmic and allow the player to move laterally back to the middle of the court without turning his body sideways in a conventional running stance. This is valuable to the tennis player because it allows him to observe the entire play of the ball as it occurs in the court in front of him. If the player had turned sideways to return to the center of the court, he would be peering over his shoulder to watch his opponent play the ball and this would not be conducive to establishing sound body position.
This same sequence can be performed on the backhand side. It should begin as the forehand did, moving from the basic ready position in small steps to a position of readiness for visualized ball contact. It is important that the right foot be placed across just previous to the imagined contact with the ball, and it is important that the player understand that the left hand should be acting to cradle the throat of the racquet once it is introduced. Again, it is quite important to instill the notion of balance into the player, since as his right hand begins its motion into contact the left hand should counterbalance the forward motion by extending backwards.
Again, this represents a butterfly-like opening of the arms. The feeling is one of freedom and grace. The two players who immediately come to mind with respect to this backhand movement are Ken Rosewall and Evonne Goolagong, both of whom are natural masters of these concepts of balance.
The First Sequence. The first choreographed tennis sequence should thus incorporate side-to-side movements of forehands and backhands because the player should realize the importance of continuous flowing motion from one imagined shot back to another. The idea of returning to the middle in rhythm and entering another shot is of critical importance. The golfer, for example, is responsible for making one shot at atime. The tennis player, on the other hand, must deal with hitting a series of shots in a row, and this is why a concept of preparation is so necessary to this learning experience. The sequence should go as follows:
Begin small side steps toward the side
The arms still in a parallel position in front of the body (not hanging at random) Take five rhythmic steps to the right and then plant the left
Bring the arms back in a simulated backswing
Set the left hand in a position of imagined contact with the ball
Allow the right hand to continue its small looping motion
Bring the right hand toward the contact point over the lead
Follow-through, and in the same movement begin shuffle
Three or four rhythmic shuffle steps back to the center, and into the ready position which leads the player
Into a pivot to the opposite side toward backhand
Taking five small steps to the left
As the player guides the racquet back toward backhand, with the left hand on an imaginary throat of the racquet
Pressing the right leg to transfer weight forward
Opening the arms in the movement of balance
Which leads the back side of the right hand into an imaginary contact with the ball ,
And then farther into a completion of the swing
Which leads again into rhythmic movement of shuffle steps
Balance and Rhythm. This sequence should be performed in repetition and rhythm, within which no interruption should be noticed. It should be smooth and easy, and the focus of one’s attention should be on balance in the upper part of the body and rhythmic movement in the feet.
This same kind of side-to-side drill can be simulated with movements toward forehand and backhand volleys at the net. The only difference in these sequences lies in the fact that the shot called volley requires considerably less swing, and these imaginary sequences should therefore include only a short punch stroke as opposed to a longer backswing and foliow-through. All of the elements of movement in the feet and of balance and position remain the same. The player should practice side-to-side movement in this manner for both groundstrokes and volleys. Complete visualization should always precede any attempt to begin these sequences with the racquet and ball. Thorough familiarity with the feeling of integrated movement within the participant’s own body is a prerequisite to any actual playing experience.
Assertive Action Sequences. Other than side-to-side drills for groundstroke or volley, dry run exercises of this type are very useful for the difficult sequence of getting from the baseline to the net, one being behind a strong first serve and the other behind an approach shot following a short ball hit by your opponent. In the serve-and-volley sequence where the player follows his service directly to the net, it is important that a conscious effort be made to incorporate considerable forward motion in the actual swing of his serve. This will lead the player to follow-through by crossing his back foot over the baseline during the completion of his serve, and this last step of the swing acts also as the first step in his advance to the net. The rhythm of the sequence should start in a meditative stance of preparation like one would incorporate in serving. The player should visualize the service court across the net and should then open his arms in unison as if taking the racquet back and tossing the ball with the left hand. The right arm should, in flowing motion, reach behind the head, then over the head, and finally across the body with the stepping motion of the right leg just described. This will lead a player into his rush of the net where, depending on the player’s size, he should take four to five steps in order toreach the service line. — Successful on-court experience necessitates that the player get at least as far as the service line and this should be a main objective in the choreographed sequence. Once the player has reached the service line, he should plant both feet, then bend the knees into an intense ready position with both arms parallel to one another. It is from here that the player should then take one step across in either direction for the first volley. It is important for the player to understand that this first volley in the sequence is most likely to be low since very rarely will a player get all the way to the net. This harsh fact of life should be incorporated in the choreographed sequence, inasmuch as the player should make a conscious effort to really bend the knees and get all of his body down close to the ground for the simulated shot. From that shot forward the player should then move several steps forward and into position for the next volley.
It is worth noting here that these are sequences of shots and not ones where the player is winning points with a single blow. Tennis points are most constructively won by thinking in terms of a series of initiatives and anticipated responses. Thus, the serve and volley sequence should begin behind the baseline, smoothly and gracefully opening the arms together, then moving four to five steps forward, planting in a ready position and then, in alternating fashion, taking one step across for a visualized low volley, then proceeding forward several more steps into a more aggressive position where the player should visualize a more decisive volley down into the court, since he is at that time in a position much closer to the net.
Once this serve and volley three-shot sequence is mastered, it is often useful to add a fourth shot to the series by putting an overhead smash at the end. In the game situation, when the volleys are not decisive or the opponent is of superior ability, the player will often encounter a lob by his opposition. It is for this reason that it is useful to practice graceful movement both forward and backward from the net. At the completion of the second visualized volley, it is important for the player to then turn into a sideways position and retreat under an imagined lob through the use of side steps that allow his body to be turned in a position very similar to that used when serving. The key to hitting good overhead smashes is always to be directly underneath the ball, and it is for this reason that effective movement with side steps is so important. The player should position himself at about the service line and then raise both arms together in simulated effort like serving with the right arm behind the head and the left arm up in a motion like the toss. At this point, the player should reach over his head in imagined contact with the ball for satisfactory conclusion to the point. There should be no hesitation between one sequence and another and, after this four-shot sequence, the player should then immediately retreat backwards to the baseline and begin another sequence exactly the same way.
This same sequence of approaching the net can be achieved when the player takes advantage of a short ball by his opponent. This choreographed sequence should begin with side-to-side forehand and backhand groundstrokes and then be interspersed with a diagonal movement to either side in order to take advantage of a visualized short ball which would lead the player to sound volleying position at the net. The rhythm of this sequence should be just as continuous and flowing as all of the others just described. It should begin with a forehand groundstroke, then a shuffle back to the middle, followed by a backhand groundstroke, concluding with a
Then comes the imagined recognition of a short ball and a diagonal run toward the net, contacting the ball on the run and positioning oneself in the low ready position of attack near the service line. It is from this position that the player then steps across in either a forehand or backhand volley depending on which side he imagines hitting his approach shot. The player should get in the habit of defending to the side that the approach shot was hit since it is his main objective to protect the down the line passing shot of his opponent. This is a rather advanced technique and not necessarily applicable to beginning players, but it does not take long for any player to learn about the geometry of the tennis point. The sequence, then, should be forehand groundstroke, shuffle to the middle, backhand groundstroke, shuffle to the middle, forehand approach shot, backhand volley, forehand volley, overhead smash, then hustle back to the middle and begin the entire sequence again, except approach the net this time from a simulated backhand approach shot, etc.
These ever-flowing and continuously rhythmic movements are excellent training for beginning or advanced players. They allow the player to detach himself from the act of hitting the ball and bring his attention more inward and toward a truly artistic experience on the court. It is all too easy to be distracted by the act of competition in playing the game. It is the recommendation of this author that every player uncover the special awareness of beauty that can be found in his own controlled and balanced body movement.
Tennis choreography takes three common forms: (1) home practice for singles; (2) a recurring group exercise at the tennis club;
and (3) a simulated doubles match involving complementary, rather than identical, player positions.
It is possible that such early beginnings will eventually be formalized as artistic presentations set to music and coached by professional choreographers. The author has already introduced them through television. For now, however, a more pragmatic claim can be made for a major advance in instructional strategy, the key being to discipline the total body first, adding the racquet, ball, and an adversary player only after the fundamentals of balance, rhythm, and sequence progression have been programmed into the player’s nervous system. A significant reduction in player inhibitions is already apparent. Effects on tournament scores remain uncertain but promising.
IN ITS PUREST FORM placement of the tennis ball is a target exercise. The difficulty that separates the game of tennis from other target exercises is that the target always moves. The target in tennis moves in direct relation to where the opposing player is not, and this instills a certain pressure on the player not only to hit the target but to figure out exactly where it is. All of this is complicated by the fact that the vehicle for hitting the target, the ball, is also moving and that it all occurs within seconds.
There are several alternatives of placement in the game of tennis and they are known as crosscourt, down the middle, and down the line. These terms apply to both volleys and groundstrokes and unlike their names imply, they don’t always have a direct relation to either crossing the court or going down any specific lines on the court. Many times they will, but not always. For example, crosscourt balls very often do cross the diagonal of the court.
Whether or not they do, however, depends totally on where the player executing the shot is standing. A person does know, however, that a crosscourt ball will always cross from one side of the player hitting it to the other. If the ball is hit, the hitter will always be present, and this is the only absolute of placement. The crosscourt placement requires very simply that the ball be contacted farther in front of the hitter’s body than any other shot. He must hit it sooner. In the same way that a baseball player might pull the:
ball to third base, the tennis player directing the crosscourt shot must hit his ball in front of him. This is precisely what player visualization should focus on, because one should envision exactly where in relationship to their own body the ball is going to be contacted. Of complementary importance to this shot is also the fact of follow-through. Just as the name implies, this last part of the swing should follow the flight of the ball. This extension of the arm, along the plane of the ball, has the effect of keeping the ball on the racquet a critical instant longer, and this is an invaluable element of control that no thoughtful player would ever sacrifice.
Therefore, whether we speak of forehands or backhands or forehand volleys or backhand volleys, the fact of placing the ball crosscourt is always the same: Hit the ball sooner and follow-through in the direction you want the ball to go. (But don’t forget that there is an absence of follow-through during the volley.)
The down the middle placement alternative is not as widely used as crosscourt or down the line, since its inherent capability of making the opposition run is less. It is, however, a useful tool against any player who objects to hitting crowded balls,and who is reluctant and/or lazy to move his feet on balls close to his body. It forces the opposing player to hit from the center of his court and therefore create his own angle, should he want to begin a constructive attack against you. Many women players have found that attacking the net by following shots hit down the middle to be an effective strategy against Chris Evert, simply because she hits either crosscourt or down the line so well when given the angle of hitting from the sides of the court. The down the middle shot should be contacted precisely at one’s side. Effective visualization should include a mental image of the racquet parallel to the ground directly over the lead leg of the shot being hit.
The down the line placement in tennis is by far the most precise, because most of the time it occurs over the highest portion of the net, the sides. There is considerably less margin for error than the crosscourt ball, and it is more delicate and requires better timing because it is contacted slightly behind the player. If the hitter is standing in the center of the court and wishes to hit down the line, his contact point must be approximately six inches farther back than the down the middle shot, and his shoulders must be turned more so that the angle of his racquet face is pointed toward the sideline. In similar proportion to this, the finish to the swing must follow-through toward that same point.
Many players tend to overreact and panic oncé the ball gets slightly behind them and in this way overplay down the line shots. I believe that it is important to remember that it is the control of this shot that counts the most and not the power. It takes considerable concentration, and therefore precise and vivid visualization, in order to control a ball from a position of comparative weakness farther behind you as you hit. Down the line shots are controlled, and high quality control comes from seeing acutely through the mind’s eye.
The serve in tennis is without a doubt the most important shot in the game. It is deserving of such an absolute title since every player is obligated to serve half of the games that are played. In this way, a strong service will give the player an advantage half of the time, while a weak one will be a liability to defend a similar amount of the time.
Not only is the serve the most important stroke in tennis, it must also be considered the most sophisticated and the most beautiful.
Unlike any other shot in the game, the service stroke is completely self-contained, and it is this one fact that lends it so well to the art of constructive visualization. It allows the player to be more precise not only in defining his target but in controlling the mechanism with which he has to hit it. All other shotmaking in the game centers around movement, not only of the opposition, but of every ball the player is required to hit. In the act of serving, the player can isolate these difficult complications to placement and bring them all under his direct control. ‘ When readying to serve, the player should station himself in a sideways position to the baseline with his left foot at approximately a forty-five degree angle to the baseline, and his right foot parallel to it. It is important that this same position be used every time because isolating the distance from the player to the court, and therefore the angle which the ball must travel to clear the net, is a primary objective. Starting from a different place every time, or moving out from under the ball once the process has been started, are both distinct liabilities to effective serving.
Specific visualization in serving usually begins with the service toss. The arms of the player should be relaxed comfortably at his sides, with the left hand at the throat of the racquet before beginning the motion. It is from this starting point that the left hand should rise into its full extension before releasing the ball.
This graceful and gradual release of the ball is in diametric opposition to the flipping action a novice player might be inclined to use when tossing. The player must understand that the toss of the serve is the only variable within the motion. It is the only part of the motion that can cause change in a practical swing, and it is for this reason that mastery of the toss is prerequisite to any consistent serve. There can never be a repeatable accuracy in serving without consistency in tossing, and this is harder than it may seem since most people use their less dominant hand with considerably less effectiveness. Specific visualization of the good toss should have it being placed as high as one can extend their racquet. The liability of a toss too high is that it forces the player to hit a falling ball, equivalent almost to hitting an overhead smash from the farthest reaches of the court. The image the server should have in his mind should be of the ball just sitting there for that small instant before impact and before gravity can pull it down. There is a very literal pause at the very height of the toss, and it is at this small instant in time that the server should focus his image.
The swing of the serve marks the beginning of the most graceful of all tennis motions. In the same way that the most graceful birds might fly, so must the server begin to slowly open his arms. It is an act of unison and harmony. As the left arm begins to rise and release the ball, the right arm will drop gently to the side, similar in fact to the way the pendulum in a clock might fall. The racquet should continue until it is parallel to the ground and pointed toward the screen behind the player. It is at this time that the racquet arm should bend at the elbow, thus allowing the head of the racquet to circle behind the player’s head and down behind his back. It is important to note that it is this portion of the swing from which the greatest servers have always derived their strength. A typical negative visualization that inhibits many beginning players as they learn to serve is the advice of many coaches to ‘“‘scratch their back.’’ This vivid form of imagery has the negative effect of causing these players to stop their motion in this very critical area of the swing, and this is bad. It is true that the arm and racquet pass through a stage that could be described like this, but the emphasis given by an image of a back scratch is such that it causes a negative
‘‘halting’’ result. It is absolutely imperative that effective serving keep the motion of the racquet moving. The imagery that I encourage my students to use centers more around the similarity between serving and throwing a ball. Throwing a ball keeps the elbow pointed back to the screen in that critical position, and that allows for proper shoulder involvement in the stroke. This is particularly useful for women who learn to ‘‘toss’’ balls, rather than throw them, and therefore have their elbow pointed toward the net in their feminine throwing motion. The racquet speed when it passes through the backscratching position will be so fast that the conscious mind should not even try to isolate it. At that stage of the swing a person’s visionary capacity should be focused on reaching as high as possible to contact the ball. Similar to the overhead smash, this full extension of the body enables the player to have a maximum angle down into the service court. Once the ball is contacted, player visualization should focus on the concept of relaxation, of letting the racquet and weight of the body simply follow the motion of the swing already created. Anything more than that can only result in gross manipulation, and that interferes with spontaneity and fluidity. If this is done, the forward pull of the right arm will allow the racquet to cross to the left side of the body, and the right leg to come over into the playing area. This transfers the weight of the body in the direction the player is hitting the ball and for this reason serves to do work for the player.
One of the most elusive and difficult aspects of serving centers from the fact that the player must generate pace from an absolutely still ball. In every other shot in tennis he is able to work from pace that is already on the ball and thereby use it for his own purposes in directing it back. In serving, however, the player must essentially deal with a stationary ball. Whatever pace is applied to the ball must be done through effective technique in his swing, combined with a very coordinated effort in transferring body weight into the shot. This transfer of body weight is called coiling and works in the same way that a spring might coil down when it is pushed and then extend outward when it is released. This is in essence what the advanced server should try and do.
Within this context, this specified technique dictates that the server begin with his weight on his back foot. From this point, and as the motion from the arms begins, his weight should transfer to his front leg. For the right-handed player this would mean that the weight of his body has been transferred from his right leg to the outside edge of his left. The image and sensation of this position should have the body arched in such a way that if a pane of glass were extended upward from the baseline only the player’s left hip would extend far enough to touch it. This arc in the body is a statement of balance as well as coil. The left leg should be bent and the weight of the body should be on the left side of the foot. The right foot should be parallel to the left, but bearing relatively little weight of the body. When I serve, I have a very clear image and feel of this portion of the swing. This is the most beautiful position in tennis. It is the most artistic and the most balanced and it is from this coil that the strength of all good servers comes. As one begins to push with both legs, the coil is released. Extension into the ball is more than just a reaching out of the racquet; rather, it is a full upward thrust propelled by the entire body. This push upward with the legs allows for a complete transfer of weight from the coiled left leg, back to the right leg, which the forward motion will then pull across. This occurs during the last part of the swing and is known as the follow-through to the motion.
In a motion as complicated as serving, where there are several inherent images operating at the same time (the toss, the swing, and the coil) it is important that one have a larger, all-encompassing image of the three together. It is not possible to envision each of these images differently, or in succession, because that will serve only to segment your motion. This is precisely the undoing magic that thinking in words and instructions does. The player should form his image of the whole, but before that is possible, he must fully understand each part of that whole. A complete visualization would have the player gliding smoothly into the coiling position as he tosses, then bringing the racquet through a throwing position behind his head, over his head as he extends his legs, and then across to the left side as the motion pulls his body into follow-through. As previously noted, the service in tennis is the most beautiful and the most purely artistic form of movement in the game. More than any other court performance, it is the serve which will lend itself to mastery through visualization.
A constructive application of spin in the game of tennis necessitates a very clear image of precisely what occurs as the tennis racquet contacts the ball. Hitting spin serves is very much an act of precision since only an edge of the ball is actually contacted. Which edge of the ball is brushed depends on precisely which service type the player is using—a slice, top-spin or the American twist.
It is important to understand while hitting any spin serve that it is to your advantage not to reduce the racquet speed of your swing.
That is, many players become too careful as they begin learning spin serves and forget the obvious fact that, since only a piece of the ball is being hit, that every bit of racquet speed is necessary in order to make it turn and still project it forward. Very clear visualization should occur in the’act of serving, mainly because there is so much ime to prepare the image through the mind’s eye. You are not rushed from shot to shot, but rather can prepare for your service almost at will. Spin serves very literally must be carried along the face of the racquet. The clearest visualization will bring to the player an almost photographic image of his racquet grazing along, string-by-string, the edge of the ball. As the racquet moves over the ball, the friction between each string will begin it turning and its projection forward, over the net, will occur simultaneously.
The slice serve is generally the first spin serve learned in tennis. All spin serves are accomplished by a fundamental change in the player’s grip (it must be changed from the forehand to backhand grip) and a change in the service toss, which should no longer be directly over the player’s head. The change in grip has the effect of creating an angle on the racquet face, and this, combined with the placement of the toss, is what allows the racquet to hit only the edge of the ball. It is quite like peeling an orange, since, in a way, your racquet almost wraps around the ball.
The slice serve is obtained by using the backhand grip and tossing the ball to the right side (for right-handed players). This will allow the racquet to graze along the right side of the ball and it will induce the flight of the ball and its subsequent bounce to curve from right to left. It is important to have a clear visualization not only of the contact point as the racquet hits the ball, but also of this most important flight that the ball should take after it is hit. This serve is often used by the intermediate player as a second serve. Once mastered, the ability of the ball to curve from right to left is an invaluable tool of exploitation, particularly in the outside corner of the deuce court and the inside of the add court.
The top-spin serve acts exactly as its name implies. The ball spins straight over the top. It is important to note that the arc and flight of the top-spin serve is considerably different from that of the slice.
The flight of the top-spin serve will tend to arc over the net and stay in the air longer. Additionally, the top-spin serve will take a very aggressive bounce up after the ball hits the ground. The spin itself, irrespective of speed, makes this shot aggressive, and tends to force the receiver back. The ball will bounce higher and will tend to increase in speed after the ball hits. The increased speed, as well as the fact that many balls are encountered by the receiver as high balls, make this a very desirable serve indeed. Furthermore, it becomes for the advanced player not only an attacking weapon but a percentage serve as well, inasmuch as the raised flight of the ball gives the player a very safe percentage over the net. Very few top-spin serves by an experienced player will go into the net.
Specific technique and visualization necessary to hit this serve require that a very clear image be formed of the ball toss back over the server’s head, toward the left side. It is only from this vantage point, and by arching the back, that the player can have the proper angle to brush up the back side of the ball. This brushing straight up the back of the ball aiters the swing somewhat and leads the follow through from behind the head in a wider arc toward the right side and then around. It is a brushing and lifting motion, and once the ball has been hit, it is important that a complete image of this shot also include the arc of the ball as it carries over the net, as well as its bounce after it hits.
The American twist is the most difficult of all spin serves because, in many ways, it combines the effects of both slice and topspin. Specific visualization necessary to complete this very aggressive and advanced serve begins with an image of the player’s back arched even more than on the top-spin serve, since the service toss must necessarily be even farther over his head and to the left. This toss must also be farther over the player’s right shoulder, rather than left as in the top-spin also. This odd position of the toss is what allows the player to really brush the ball dramatically, at an angle beginning at the lower left edge of the ball and finishing a diagonal path up toward the right. This strange angle of grazing the ball will induce the ball to spin in a very erratic and always unpredictable way. This element of unpredictability alone is enough to inhibit its return, but its high bounce and kick complicate other matters for the receiver as well. The actual flight of the ball over the net is similar to the top-spin, but even more pronounced, since it arcs over the net and tends to stay in the air an absolute maximum amount of time. This is used by most experienced players in combination with the slice, top-spin, and flat serves, and can be interspersed at points on either first or second serves. This is one of the most advanced weapons at any tennis player’s disposal and it takes considerable practice to learn it. Much of a player’s success in learning a shot as difficult as this lies in his ability to visualize, through his mind’s eye, precisely what he is trying to make happen.
The first profound image in this particular serve should be of one’s own arched back and the position of the service toss. The succeeding image that one should hold is clearly the diagonal path of the racquet strings, when the ball brushes the strings, and then followed by a picture of a very arcing ball as it clears the net.
The flat serve represents the negation of spin. It is the no-spin serve and it is characterized most profoundly by its speed. Many players choose to use a forehand grip on this service in order to keep the racquet face absolutely flat (facing the net) as it contacts the ball. Many advanced players, however, still use their backhand grip but simply roll their wrist inward just prior to contact. There is no absolute rule of thumb on this point since it seems to vary with personal preference. The only invariable thing about this serve, however, is that the racquet must always be flat at impact, and, of course, this is an important image on which to concentrate.
The toss of the flat serve must be directly in front of the player.
Since maximum speed on the ball is so important when hitting this shot, one of the most effective images a player should have centers around the effective technique of uncoiling. The motion must proceed smoothly and easily and slide eventually into a very dynamic uncoiling of the body into the ball. As the body is un-coiled, a clear image should be held of the racquet face coming from squarely behind the ball. It should appear through the mind’s eye as if the ball is very symmetrically located squarely in the center of a perfect checkerboard of strings. Also central among the imagery of this serve should be vivid visualization of the feel of stretching and reaching as. high as possible for contact. This will give the player maximum angle down into the court which becomes quite important on this serve where there is so little margin for error in its flight.
There is no circumstance in the game of tennis where the act of visualization is so clearly suited as in the placement of the serve.
This should be one of the first exercises in imagery that a player should undertake. The reason, of course, is that there is more time.
Visualization, especially for the inexperienced, is a step-by-step thinking process, and one not to be rushed. The act of playing the game, however, does not afford the luxury of time-consuming thought, so the service is an excellent place to get good at constructive imagery. Here it is possible, for example, to stand at the line and bounce the ball several times and truly focus the attention of your mind on what you are trying to do. A more inexperienced player will rush to the line in order to get the ball in play as soon as possible. The thoughtful player will spend more effort in his preparation for serving and will realize the importance of beginning the initiative of play.
When considering placement of the serve, it is most important that the player realize that it is not done through any deviation in the swing. Placement of the serve stems primarily from the stance of the body in relationship to the baseline. For example, with the right-handed server directing his serve toward the outside corner of the deuce court, his shoulder stance would be more open (more facing the net although not absolutely so). As his serves move to the remaining corners from left to right, his stance should close in a corresponding manner. By the time he is serving toward the outside corner of the add court, the farthest right corner at his disposal, his left shoulder should be turned more than at any other time. These movements in body position are very often not terribly dramatic and can be affected merely by moving the back foot. It is a small change but a very significant one.
The specific imagery incorporated by the server, once these particular positions are established, starts by focusing one’s mind on a specific spot in the opposing court. Many more inexperienced players will allow their target to be the entire service court and this is a fundamental error. It is important to pick a small point and to then intensely focus the eye on it, and through it, the mind. It is through the power of the mind’s eye that precision placement occurs. Before the ball is even tossed, there should be a clear image in the mind of the ball and its flight as it passes precisely toward the chosen target. It should be a smooth and ever-flowing execution that puts the ball onto an already identified plane through space. It is more than mere suggestion, it is the last word in constructive imagery. It is from this most powerful and clear context that one must then extend their learning of visualization to other parts of the game that afford less time and opportunity than the serve.
The creative mechanism within you its impersonal. It will work automatically and impersonally to achieve goals of success and happiness, or unhappiness and failure, depending upon the goals which you yourself set for it. Present it ‘success goals’ and it functions as a ‘success mechanism.’ Present it with negative goals and it operates just as impersonally and just as faithfully as a ‘failure
For many tennis players one of the most imposing obstacles .n the game is their inability to conclude a point. It is not uncommon to witness long, hard-fought points end anticlimactically as a player misses a comparatively easy shot for some unknown reason. To win, aS opposed to your opponent losing, thereby awarding you a victory, are two entirely different things. Winning necessarily implies a constructive initiative be taken successfully to your opponent. For your opponent to lose implies that an error was made, thereby creating a default of sorts in your favor. As players learn the game, and they become aware of the parallels between tennis and other games of life, they learn the importance of following through, and actually finishing a given swing or point. Nothing in the tennis game is more vulnerable to the negative association of self-limiting imagery, and it is for this reason that I will now describe a series of instructive visualizations for winning points.
One of the most commonly missed shots in tennis, one of the most frequently witnessed non-forced errors, is the passing shot.
Many players intimidate themselves into attempting to make their passing shots too good, and therefore make errors because of it.
This unconscious demand to make near-perfect shots results from a negative image of the net man as a looming, all encompassing, obstacle at the net. In most cases, the image of a giant at the net is not a real fact of life, but rather an extension of the player’s overactive imagination.
Let’s say, for example, that a long rally had preceded your opponent’s rush to the net behind a drive hit to your backhand. A negative, self-limiting visualization will form images that demonstrate the ominous presence of the opponent, the very small area available to hit the shot, the fact that you must hit it with your
‘‘awful backhand,’’ and the fact that you had worked so hard for this point, all to have this happen—before you have even tried the shot. This is self-limiting and self-fulfilling visualization. It is only accidental to experience success in spite of mental obstructions like these. The goal of the thoughtful player must be to eliminate conditioned behavior by eradicating negative visualization as he approaches such shots.
A constructive alternative in a situation like this might run as follows. Assuming your opponent’s approach shot was hit to your backhand, a positive visualization would include picturing in your mind the literal tunnel of air space down the line past your approaching opponent. It should be enlightening and even exciting to operate within the knowledge that there is a tunnel through which you can pass the ball where it will never cross in front of your opponent. This is why so many expert players elect to hit passing shots down the sidelines when they are pulled wide, as opposed to hitting across the court. You should feel your body moving in constant rhythm on your right shoulder as you begin to press on your right leg, and then uncoiling in a free form of movement and expression that will guide the ball, almost willfully, into that preconceived tunnel between the sideline and your opponent’s reach.
Similar visualization can occur for either forehands or backhands, and for passing shots hit either crosscourt or down the line. The completely positive image, however, should always remain essentially the same, and in that way it allows the player to complete his response with the highest percentage of success, the only variable being his own talent and how much investment he has made in himself through training and specific skill development.
The power of the mind to use positive imagery and suggestion is more sophisticated than we are even able to understand. It is a fact of life that deserves, more than any, simply to be trusted. One must first believe, and then one can operate.
It is not uncommon to see players in excellent position to win points at net ‘“‘choke’’ or somehow blow it. They may have served extremely well, or have approached perfectly behind a deep drive to their opponent’s backhand. Yet, for some unexplained reason, these same players who have just made very convincing and difficult shots, miss what appear to be otherwise routine volleys. The key, of course, is that those easy shots must cross the psychological bridge between either winning or losing the point. This pressure complicates and makes these ‘‘easy shots’’ difficult indeed. Negative imagery may induce the player to consider his vulnerability by being at the net, the fact that he will have so little time to respond to the ball, or that he does not really know whether his opponent will attempt to pass him down the line, or crosscourt, or even over his head with a lob. This player’s mind will be racing so fast in his consideration of negative alternatives that he will be surprised at whatever is hit by the opponent, and, for this reason, is very likely to overreact, making his. shot too hard or ‘‘too good,’’ consequently forcing himself into nonforced errors.
Positive visualization, on the other hand, will induce the player to feel the power of his position as he nears the net. His awareness, and the focus of his mind, should be on the increasing angle down into the court he will have on his next shot. His mind should be thinking of the pressure that his approach, as well as his mere presence at the net, is putting on his opponent. He should be aware of his command of the point, and he should be ready to decisively conclude the good work he has already done. This should include a very positive mind set and a self-image of himself as the aggressor—not some shaky figure standing in a cold area of vulnerability and surprise.
This same system of positive visualization during the act of playing the game is true for the overhead smash. Specific image formation is required for identifying the arc of the ball. However, the positive ‘‘attack of the game,’’ as well as the mental initiative of winning the point, parallels that just described. The only difference is that the overhead smash could possibly give the player a maximum feeling of exhilaration and strength. Similarly, it is a shot where the time involved in watching the ball drop allows the door of negative assumption concerning success and failure to be opened. Experience has shown that the most concentration and intensity of mind is often required on ‘‘easy shots.’’ Smashing lobs is a prime example of this.
Concluding a point with a successful drop shot is more than saying to yourself, ‘‘Maybe I’ll try dinking it over.’’ The ‘‘I wonder if I can, I think I’ll try it’? phenomenon will never work with drop shots since marginal confidence will always be detected by your opponent. The success factor of winning points with drop shots necessitates that disguise be the most important element. In other words, these shots must look exactly like a regular groundstroke, and so must your expression.
Positive visualization while executing the drop shot is similar to that of the passing shot inasmuch as one should be acutely aware of an imaginary tunnel through which the ball must travel. In the case of the drop shot, this tunnel should arc over the net in such a way as to allow the ball to bounce as nearly straight up as possible when it hits. This is opposed, of course, to the flight and bounce of a basic drive where the ball bounces considerably toward the opponent.
The drop shot is a shot of finesse, touch, and feel. One should have a mental image of the ball as it touches the strings and how, once on the racquet, it is carried in such a way as to allow the racquet to move gradually underneath the ball, thereby negating the forward motion of the swing and functioning to apply backspin to the ball.
This backspin will cause the ball to float gingerly just over the net and then bounce vertically rather than into your opponent’s racquet.
The term ‘‘ace’’ is used in reference:to any serve hit so well that the receiver does not touch it with his racquet. This obviously striking shot presents tennis’ most perfect opportunity for positive visualization. As mentioned previously with respect to the service motion, maximum time is afforded the player when serving to concentrate his mental energies to a specific place, a precise target.
This element of time is of critical importance because for many players this extra preparation allows them to focus more power into their vision than in ordinary exchanges. This is especially true with professional players since it is not uncommon to see them serving extremely well when they are down, say 15-40 or love-40. In those cases, the score demands that their attention be focused, and that is always a time they will concentrate the most. In professional-level tennis, the implications of the service break are too important to ignore.
The power of the positive image must begin in a very determined mind set. Fear of double faulting, and thereby losing a critical point, always rests on the opposite side of this scale. The aggressively determined player with a strong service at his disposal will always be most likely to serve his best when he needs it the most. It is not uncommon to see very good serves when players are in danger of losing their service game. It is at this time that the server wil! bounce the ball several more times than usual, pausing to focus his attention more purely on that certain spot in the service court, and to become more acutely aware of that magic tunnel of air space between his extended racquet and the selected destination of the ball. The service ace is the most deliberate and planned-out initiative of winning vision in the game of tennis. It is dramatic and beautiful, but it is only one part of positive imagination, and it can be extended to every other shot or movement on the court, and even to the strategy of the game as a whole. Serving lends itself well to study because it is isolated, but the same mental gymnastics can be applied to every other part of the game.
Similar in many ways to the drop shot, the winning lob is most obviously an act of déception. The negative counterpart to positive visualization would have the player recognizing all of the elements of being ‘‘attacked’’ by his opponent. Obviously, his opponent is at the net if a lob is being executed. The negative association with this position of response, rather than initiative, is not uncommon.
Constructive visualization, however, places the mind set of the player in much the role of a counterpuncher in boxing. That is, the counterpuncher thrives upon all initiatives being started by the opposition. From this vantage point there lies a temporary vulnerability in opponent defenses and this is when the lob is most effectively used. Changing directions ‘‘on a dime” is very difficult
Positive visualization while lobbing should be focused on the player making his motion parallel to his regular groundstroke, while as subtly as possible lifting his racquet beneath the ball, thereby creating a shot more appropriately described as a ‘“‘high forehand”’ or ‘“‘high backhand,”’ as opposed to a separate shot called a lob. An effective lob of this type will not be so high as to make it rain, but rather its arc will be such that it will only barely get past the extended racquet of the opponent, and will for this reason make for very little play after the bounce. The vision of an arcing flight of the ball, almost like a vapor trail gradually reaching over the opponent’s head, is a useful image for those versed in the art of mental visualization. Seeing the path of the ball before it is actually hit, knowing the reality and the power of projections of the mind, having faith in the truest sense of the word that positive clear visualization can in fact ‘‘will’’ specific effects on our physical surroundings, this is what “visualizing the winning point’? is all about.
You must learn to trust your creative mechanism to do its work and not ‘jam it’ by becoming too concerned or too anxious as to whether it will work or not, or by attempting to force it by too much conscious effort. You must ‘let it’ work, rather than ‘make it’ work. This trust is necessary because your creative mechanism operates below the level of consciousness.2°
Targeting, as portrayed in this chapter, is more than the dancelike movements which have been previously associated with specific tennis techniques. The ‘‘something more”’ is the extension of the body’s intent, in the form of a propelled ball, beyond the capacity of the individual to redirect or correct error. It is not unlike a rocket launch, minus mission control’s corrective computer guidance system. Perhaps an irretrievable speeding bullet is a better analogy, the tangible result being the track left in the target in the form of a small hole. The target evidence thereafter becomes the irrefutable evidence of the shooter’s skill—or lack of it, no excuses accepted.
Accuracy with tennis balls seems remarkably controllable through visualization. The ‘‘invisible’’ can be seen, my favorite example being the ‘‘tunnel’’ through which a winning point will be propelled; it all depends upon the mind’s projective powers. When
Babe Ruth pointed to the wall over which his next home run would fly, he was visualizing a future event which he was prepared to prove and that he could personally control. So it is with the tennis master who can all but use his racquet as a pointing finger to foretell the exact spot on a clay court from which the telltale puff of dust will arise.
The human being extends himself with his tools. The tools of tennis are few, the parameters of the contest fixed. The human factor is thus extracted as the contested issue. Accuracy is not the total result of tennis competence—such factors as endurance are important, too. However, the evidence at the target will remain one of the most telling criteria of personal skill. And visualization will continue to be the best way to influence it.
IN MOST CASES, ADULTS must relearn how to use their imagination. We have been desensitized through our educational systems, the technology of our age, and the inherent segregation of image and symbol in the evolution of writing. Children, on the other hand, lend themselves instinctively to thought through imagery, and it is for this reason that they offer us such a unique medium for its study. We all have much to learn from the concept of ‘‘childlikeness,’’ and the pure and uninhibited way in which our children approach their life as a learning experience.
One of the classic examples of how the human mind can so effectively operate under the influence of imagery comes from children as they learn to walk. A child learns to walk through imitation of those around him because at that stage in his life he has not mastered communication through language. In this way, the absence of language also means he does not ‘‘take instructions.”’
He has not been told by those around him, nor has he been told by a division of his own self, to ‘‘precisely move one foot three-quarters of an inch forward”’ for his first step. Sadly, there is not enough parallel between the child’s mastering that most sophisticated physical task, and the technique which most tennis players use in their attempt to learn the physical skill of playing tennis. It should, for this reason, be our goal to emulate more perfectly the process of learning enjoyed by those very young but true artists of learning.
To illustrate the wonderfully active imagination of children in the specific medium of tennis, I have chosen to include the following instructional presentation for children ages five to ten years. It concerns the experiences of a young boy and his imaginary friend, Babaloo Bamboo, as they learn tennis in a summer clinic. It takes the form of a story that I have named ‘‘Babaloo Bamboo’s
Book of Tennis,’’ but the beauty of it lies not only in the imagination of the children but in the fact that the entire experience was real. The story of Babaloo Bamboo is not a fairy tale; it really happened, and it continues to happen everyday on other tennis courts and in the minds of children I will never know. I view the following narrative with excitement. I hope that you will share my enthusiasm as you read this story, for it will give you a very special glimpse into the reality of active and constructive imagination through ‘‘visualization,’’ as seen in the best learners in the world— children.
Amby was a boy six years old with carrot-top red hair, and it was a sunny day when he and his mother and Babaloo Bamboo arrived at the tennis club for his (their) first tennis lesson. No one else, including Amby’s mother, knew that Babaloo was being included, of course, because he was invisible, and only an
“‘imaginary’’ figure according to all of the grownups like
Amby’s mother.
Amby was anxious to find the tennis pro as soon as they entered the crowded tennis shop. He had heard a lot about tennis pros and had even seen some on television before, but he had never seen one in real life. When they were standing behind the counter, Amby could not see who his mother was talking to, but as soon as he stood on his tip-toes he knew right away that it was the pro. Babaloo anxiously perched himself on Amby’s back so that he could see, too, and they were both so excited when they realized who it was that they bumped their heads trying to get the best view. They had both waited a long time to become six so that they could learn about tennis, so seeing their pro for the first time was a really big deal.
The pro was not unusually big but was a man of about medium height and a bit thin. He talked in a soft, almost southern voice, wore all white tennis clothes, and had a dark tan from all of the hours he spent in the sun. He even wore a floppy Australian tennis hat, and Amby felt that his pro looked just the way the ‘‘real thing’’ was supposed to look.
As soon as Amby’s mother finished her conversation, the pro led Amby and Babaloo onto the patio where they were to meet the rest of Amby’s group. When the pro walked out, everyone seemed to know who he was, and they all got in line quickly, exactly the way they were supposed to. All of the children silently followed their new teacher to a special enclosed teaching court. There was no fooling around and it was clear from the very beginning that everyone else in the class was just as anxious to learn as Amby and Babaloo were. All of the parents said that
Heggie, the pro, looked like the Pied Piper, and many of the grownups even stopped their games to watch as the children marched by.
Once everyone was assembled on the court, Heggie’s first instruction was to line up on the back line so that the roll could be called. Amby was not afraid, and he did not feel un-comfortable out there, not only because he brought Babaloo with him, but because all of the other children appeared to be about his same age and height. Everyone was still very quiet and they all listened patiently for their names to be called—Kacki,
Kippi, Cuzzie, Weezie, Daniel, Leland, Jamie, Mark, Christi,
Stephanie, Tonya, Christa, Yancey, Ty, and Amby. That numbered fifteen in all, not counting Babaloo, of course, but
Heggie couldn’t have been expected to know that he was there.
The first thing their group learned that day was how to hold their tennis racquets properly. Heggie circled all the children around him and showed each player precisely how to shake hands with his racquet. He kidded them about becoming friends with their racquets, but he made sure that each one of them understood that there was a very specific ‘‘right’’ way to hold his racquet, and that their thumbs should always be around the racquet and not sitting on the top like so many of the little hands wanted to do. Everyone seemed to understand ““shaking hands’’ with his racquet and they all learned that that was called the eastern forehand grip.
The next item of business that day was to learn what Heggie called the ‘‘ready position.’’ He explained that the game of tennis required hitting several shots in a row, and in order to do that the player needed to always start the same way. Heggie bent over slightly at the waist, bent his knees as if he were getting ready to run, and he held his racquet at its throat with his left hand. He really looked the way tennis players were supposed to, and the whole group was really excited because they were all able to imitate him so well. Even Babaloo Bamboo was impressed by the perfectly straight line of fifteen ideal ready positions.
After it became clear that everyone knew the ready position,
Heggie circled his group around him as he talked to them. He told them about a shot called volley, and how they would be expected to hit this shot in the air before the ball bounced. He described to them how they would stand very close to the net and just tap the ball over gently, since by being so close to the net they didn’t have much time for a big swing. Heggie took a great deal of time talking to his children about the ball, and how it had seams on it and how they should try and focus their eyes on them. He told them about how the ball travels through the air, and how each of them should try to identify what he called the ‘‘flight of the ball.”’ ; It all seemed like such an exciting exercise as the group lined up single file on the center service line. Heggie stood in the front of the line and looked over his shoulder to make sure everyone was in his proper ready position. It was from this place that
Heggie then told his group to step altogether across with their left legs. He told them that stepping with the left leg was absolutely necessary and that in order to hit the forehand volley properly, they must all step across at the same time they tapped the ball.
The remainder of their first lesson was focused on watching the ball clearly as Heggie hit them their first tennis shots at the net. Babaloo Bamboo was so proud of Amby because he was able to hit his very first ball right in the middle of the racquet, and that was such a great way to start learning. All of the children learned the forehand volley that day and every single one of them smiled and couldn’t wait to tell his parents how well he had done. Some of the children had been afraid and had not known whether or not they could learn. For these children their first tennis lesson was especially rewarding. It felt so good to succeed. Heggie had a way of keeping things really simple. He pointed out only those most essential elements and he taught every child there how to focus his mind on a specific point, even if it were just for a very short time. The children didn’t know those things, of course, but Babaloo Bamboo did and he was really glad that he and Amby could share such a valuable learning experience.
During their second tennis lesson, Heggie asked different members of the group to help teach the class. By doing this everyone had a chance to remember together to review all they had learned before. It was exciting to see that no one had forgotten, that the ready position was something that everyone really understood, and that all of them could talk about the seams on the ball and its flight through the air. The new subject matter for that day, however, was a shot called backhand volley.
Heggie told his group that all volleys are the same whether they are forehand or backhand, and that was the most important thing for them to remember. Forehand and backhand volleys are like brother and sister, they are related and in the same family.
The important thing to remember is that they both require a short swing and a step across. The only thing really new that
Heggie showed them was how to hold their racquets in the backhand grip. He explained and showed every child how he must move the ‘‘V’’ in the hand between his thumb and first finger one quarter of a turn to the left slanted edge of his racquet. He told them that this was best done by turning the racquets in their left hands and that was another important reason for always having the proper ready position between each shot. The group lined up the same way they did when they learned the forehand volley, all stretched out in single file down the center service line. Heggie looked over his shoulder and all together, and on command, each student stepped across with his right leg and punched an imagirary ball with a short, short swing. They guided the racquets back with their left hands, then ever so gently touched the imaginary balls back over the net to
Heggie.
Tonya raised her hand to go first in line when they got to backhand volley and she was able to hit her very first one over the net. It was especially nice in this class how all the students watched as their friends took their turns, and how everyone clapped with excitement and said ‘‘nice shot’’ when someone did well. Everyone was really learning together and learning was really fun on Heggie’s tennis court.
Before the day was out, the children learned how to hit forehand volleys followed by backhand volleys, back and forth, stepping with the proper foot and changing grips as they did so.
It was so wonderful how fast they were learning and everyone seemed happy and proud to be one of Heggie’s students. They all wanted to be like Heggie, and Amby even wanted an
Australian tennis hat like his, except that they were all too big.
Babaloo Bamboo was just as proud of his tennis progress as all the other children were. He had never played tennis before either, and he and Amby smiled and skipped all the way home after that second tennis lesson. Amby couldn’t wait to tell his mother how well he had done, and he only wished that he could tell everyone how well Babaloo had done too. They were doing well, however, because Amby and his friend always practiced between their lessons. Heggie made sure every student had his own tennis ball, so they could really study them, and so they could practice bouncing them with their racquets at home.
Heggie told them watching the ball took a lot of thought and that practice helped things like that. He told them he wanted them all-to know what the ball looked like on the strings, and he wanted them to be able to tell him about that image. Babaloo and Amby always practiced their ball bouncing in the driveway or on the patio, and they both got quite good at it. That ball bouncing took considerable concentration, however, and they could only do it for a short time because the-racquet started feeling so very heavy. Heggie assured them that their arms would get stronger with time and they believed that he was right. They knew they would play tennis like he did some day.
During their next lesson, after everyone had done his daily review of their previous lessons, Heggie gathered the children around him as he always did when they were about to learn something new. He told them that they were going to learn about shots called ‘‘groundstrokes,’’ and that they were those shots that always bounced one time before they were hit. He told them how groundstrokes were hit from a distance farther from the net, and that that was what made it necessary for them to have a bigger swing. It took a bigger swing to hit a ball a farther distance. That seemed to make good sense to both Amby and
Babaloo. He told the children that they were going to begin with what he called the forehand drive and that they would start hitting this shot from about the service line. He showed them when they all lined up how to take their racquets back farther, all the way until it pointed to the back screen. He showed each of them how, once their racquets started, that they should stay moving and that they should even stay moving after they hit the ball. He said that that last part of the swing was called ‘‘followthrough’’ and that it was very important on these shots because it was that part of the swing which enabled players to control the ball. Amby felt as though he understood and that it really wasn’t all that complicated after all: volleys have little swings and groundstrokes have big ones. Groundstrokes have longer backswings and longer follow-throughs.
Amby’s first attempt at hitting a forehand went up in the air because he was really afraid to follow-through, and some of the other children seemed to feel the same way. Heggie told them that it was possible on shots like those to be too careful, to try too hard to keep the ball within the lines. Heggie brought his group around him then and told them he wanted them to think about only what their bodies were doing, and the flight of the ball as it came to them. Babaloo told Amby that Heggie was exactly right and that he should not pay attention to that devil
Ree Rab who kept telling him to keep the ball inside the lines no matter what. Ree Rab had always been a nuisance to Amby, and even though he was imaginary, just like Babaloo, his effects on
Amby’s life were just as real and negative as Babaloo’s were good. Babaloo really had a problem sometimes keeping Ree Rab in line, but he knew that controlling Ree Rab was really his job more than any. Amby knew how to follow-through. It was just that that Ree Rab kept telling him about how important it was that he not make any mistakes. Babaloo finally kicked Ree Rab out of Amby’s mind and it was then that he knew Heggie was exactly right—it didn’t matter where the ball went. The only thing that really mattered was how he mastered the ‘‘beautiful swing.’’ He and Babaloo really wanted to have a swing like
Heggie’s and they knew that they could do it. It was just like the book, The Little Engine That Could. Babaloo and Amby just knew they could, knew they could, knew they could, knew they could ty. ..
All of Amby’s tennis lessons began the same way. Heggie asked all of the children how their day was, whether they had practiced the day before, and whether any of them had any questions or anything they would like to share with the class.
Each student in the class was given an opportunity to be teacher in their sessions, and, of course, those review sessions always got bigger because everyday they learned more.
During their next lesson, however, their new subject matter was the backhand groundstroke. Heggie again pointed out to the children that forehand and backhand were like brother and sister, the same way forehand and backhand volleys were. He showed them how their feet always did the same thing, that on forehands their left feet stepped over and on backhands their right feet stepped over. He showed them all exactly how they must guide the racquets back with their left hands, and then set the racquets down, just like they would if they were setting them on a table. He told them how important it was for the racquet to be level to the ground as it came into the ball. He reminded them about the flight of the ball and how what they were really trying to do was put their racquets, the centers of their racquets, on the same line in space that the ball was on, coming to them.
He described it like a vapor trail behind a jet plane, or like a tunnel. He made the flight of the ball into a very tangible, real vision for all of the children. It was something they could see.
Everyone seemed to understand about that and it is for that reason that Heggie almost went immediately into showing them about backhand follow-through. He showed them how their racquets must not stop and how they extended all the way in front of their bodies so that they could have a proper conclusion to their swings.
Ree Rab really tried to interfere in Amby’s tennis the first day they did backhands. He kept on telling Amby about the lines on the court, and for some reason Amby couldn’t get it out of his head. It was because of that that Amby’s swing came too much from his elbow, and he seemed to just ‘‘push”’ at the ball because he was afraid to miss. It wasn’t until the very end of the lesson that Babaloo was finally able to chase Ree Rab off that tennis court. When Ree Rab wants to interfere with your life,
Amby came to learn, it just takes a heck of a lot of concentration to keep him in line. Babaloo got him straight that day, and good works always win over bad ones, and Amby’s follow-through finally ended up extending all the way from his body.
He learned to really like backhands and to let his swing come from his shoulder, and to “‘sweep’’ just like Heggie told them, straight across and level to the ground, on to the flight of the ball. Amby was excited that he learned backhand that day and he couldn’t wait to tell his mother how in the next lesson they would do forehands and backhands, and that they were going to learn to run to each ball, and to take little steps, and to always return to the middle after they hit.
And that’s the way it turned out that next lesson, too. Every student in Heggie’s class was hitting forehands, then backhands, then forehands, then backhands. They were all moving to the ball and feeling their bodies work and run, and they were all leading their racquets right to that flight of the ball. They were moving to the ball slowly and in small steps, and they started stroking the ball more and more like Heggie did every day. Their follow-throughs became longer and there was more grace in their movements back to the center of the court. They also found that they could concentrate longer, where at first the focus of their attention could only last for one shot. Babaloo Bamboo quickly pointed this out to Amby one day because he was now able to hit four and five and six balls in a row without making mistakes. This was a really big deal and Heggie told all of his children how important the element of ‘‘concentration’’ was, and it made them all happy, and they all clapped together as he congratulated them as a group.
It was during their next lesson that Heggie brought his children around him and told them about a shot called overhead smash. He told them that this was done when people tried to hit the ball over their heads when they were close to the net. He told them that the most important reason that they were learning it now was so that they could learn more easily about serving. He said that serving was the most important shot that he would teach them and that these two shots were very much alike. He demonstrated the overhead smash for them and he did so by turning his body sideways and taking his racquet back behind his head in the same way Amby had learned to do when he was throwing baseballs at home. His arm cocked back and he raised his left hand at the same time almost as if he was pointing at the ball. Heggie said that that was exactly what he was doing and that he was doing that.on purpose so that he could move underneath it properly. He said that the most important thing about overhead smash was a player’s ability to get directly under it and that the swing itself was not that hard. He told them how he would lob each of them one shot, and that after it bounced up real high, that he would expect them to then move underneath it and try their first smashes. Everyone was really excited about this shot because this was what they all remembered seeing the pros on television doing so well. And, of course, they all wanted to be pros.
Just before it was Amby’s turn to try his smash, Babaloo took him to the side and told him again to focus. his attention on the flight of the ball. Babaloo told him that the flight of the ball would be much different on this shot, that it would be high and that it would curve. All of the other balls they had approached had been relatively straight. Babaloo Bamboo wanted to warn
Amby that this was different, and that his ability to make this shot would lie in his ability to get beneath it. The actual swing, taking his racquet behind his head, was not that hard because he had played baseball with his father before. As it turned out,
Amby did quite well at this shot. Amby thanked Babaloo when they went back to the end of the line. Ree Rab had done everything he could to distract Amby as he hit, and was even jumping on top of the net in an effort to make Amby take his eye off the ball. Amby, however, had been prepared for his distraction and he was real proud that he was getting so good at keeping Ree Rab out of his life.
In their next lesson, all of the children came to know about the importance of a shot called serve. Heggie told them that in the game each player took turns serving, and for that reason, every player served half of the time. He told them that it was this fact that made learning a good serve so important.
Heggie lined his group up along the service line and told them all to turn sideways to the net. He told them that he wanted them to imitate him in every way, and as he began to move his arms together he spoke of how similar his swing was to the way a bird might fly. Yancey thought that,the arm motion was more like a butterfly and Heggie said that it was all right to think of it in that way, too. He told them all that the most important part was that their arms move together and that they feel the rhythm in that movement. It was at this point, when each racquet was pointed toward the back screen that Heggie walked along and put a ball in each player’s hand where his racquet had formerly been. He then told them all to throw the balls over the net and his reason for doing this was to show them how serving was so related to throwing. He then told each child to pick up his racquet and to imitate him as he went through the ‘‘throwing motion’’ arc of the swing. His racquet reached down behind his head, then over his head, and then across his body to the left side. The last part of Heggie’s swing carried his right foot across the line and all the children stepped across together as he did.
Heggie took special time to tell the children about the importance of tossing the ball accurately. He told them that the only thing that could ruin their service motions was a bad toss, that a crazy toss could be the only thing that would change their swings. Once he explained how important this was, the entire class took special time to practice just tossing the ball. Heggie told them that their tosses should be directly over their heads and only as high as they could reach with their racquets. This business of tossing the ball turned out to be very hard for most of the children. Babaloo kept encouraging Amby in his efforts.
He reminded him that they had mastered all of the hard parts of their other swings in their practices at home, and that they would surely do that with tossing.
It took several lessons for Amby and Babaloo to really get the idea of serving, since putting the ball up there the same way was a real complication when faced with moving both arms together and then swinging precisely in time to hit the ball. There was no doubt about it, the serve was the hardest thing Heggie had tried to show them that summer. Heggie was very patient, however. He even went along and helped each of the children serve by bending down on one knee and doing it with him or her. It always helped when Heggie took the time to swing with his students. It gave them a chance to really feel what it was like to hit the ball properly, and for a moment it was almost like being
Heggie. All of the children really appreciated it when he took the time to help them in that way.
When the summer was over Amby looked back fondly on his tennis lessons because both he and Babaloo had learned so much. He felt that they had not only learned a lot about tennis, and that they would continue to learn more through their practice together on the patio, but he felt as though he had learned a lot about the art of ‘‘keeping Ree Rab under control.’’
Ree Rab always tried to bother Amby before, but through the patience of Heggie and the discipline of that good friend
Babaloo, Amby felt like he was really getting that negative side of himself under control. He hardly saw Ree Rab at all after that summer, and he always felt as though the spirit of Babaloo remained with him, even after he grew up. Even as he knew later that Babaloo was only an imaginary figure, and not really there to most people, Amby felt as though Babaloo was always there, and that his spirit of good and hard work would always remain with him. It is for this reason that this Book of Tennis was written—so that everyone could learn and know about how wonderful it was not only that summer, but today and tomorrow, too—to have Babaloo Bamboo, and for him to be your partner in all the ‘‘games of life.’’
By learning to recognize the power of your thoughts and feelings you place yourself in the position of being able to choose the kind of life you want. You can choose to concentrate on thoughts and feelings that result in dis-ease. Or you can choose to concentrate on thoughts and feelings that result in ease—thoughts and feelings that free your inborn healing abilities to work at their best.”®
VISUALIZATION, by definition, implies a picture in the mind.
This, however, is not the end of the line for such an important human capacity. While specific physical tasks, like the tennis performances just described, are a realm more obvious, there is a spiritual extension of man which can legitimately be used as a vehicle for more abstract conceptualization. It is possible to visualize in the most positive way, not only specific physical acts, but ideas as well. This notion, that man’s imagination can have farreaching effects on his life, is important to the building of a strong self-image. This, in turn, becomes everyone’s vehicle for moving effectively through life while maintaining consistent over-all health. The ways in which positive conceptualization can be used to enhance our lives, and the fact that thought and physical reality are related, is not new. It has, however, experienced a renaissance in recent years, and that is the subject of this discussion.
The use of visualization to cure disease dates long before the advent of modern science, and it is conceded by many to be the most ancient healing procedure used by primitive man. There have been records of these early techniques found on ancient cuneiform slabs that turn the calendar all the way back to Babylonia and
Samaria.
These earliest concepts of healing center, of course, around belief in spirits, gods, and magical figures, and they typically involved an exorcism by a ‘‘shaman,”’ that special person believed to have an unusual contact with the positive forces of healing and good health. The specifics of their ceremonies varied, but the shaman’s vehicle for reaching the spiritual world always involved a visualization technique of some sort, whether it was through dreams, visions, or some other more distinctly mystical experience.
At the same time this shamanistic method of healing was evolving, so was a more subjective philosophy that allowed for unrestricted individual visualization, irrespective of any shamanistic affiliation. This tradition can be historically traced to the Hermetic philosophers of Egypt, to Platonic philosophy in
Greece, as well as to the evolution of Buddhists and Hindus in
India and the Orient. These interesting philosophies held that there was a universal spiritual center to the world and that it could be tapped by the individual through specialized techniques of meditation and visualization.
These philosophies believed in the primacy of spirit over matter, of mind over body; they believed that matter is a manifestation of the spirit. They believed that visualizations manifest themselves as health or disease in the physical body.?’
During the Renaissance, the physician Paracelsus, whose work during the 1500s in Switzerland established him as the father of modern drug therapy, was also very aware of the intangible effects of the spirit on health and cure of disease. He said:
The spirit is the master, imagination the tool, and the body, the
This special dualistic affiliation toward science and religion establishes Paracelsus as an interesting combination of earlier mystical attitudes and the scientific tradition that would soon come. The years that preceded him were securely rooted within a more religious affiliation, while the years ahead would carve new inroads in concepts of rationality, pragmatism, and the scientific method.
After that time, it became clear that in many ways science and religion were mutually exclusive. There is, for example, no rational explanation for any religion. Religion must be accepted on faith alone, for it is simply man’s way of justifying to himself all things that are unexplainable. The two disciplines inevitably grew away from each other, with healing through drug therapy and surgery becoming especially established in the tradition of Western man.
Many scientists, however, are still willing to acknowledge that realm of actual occurrence that defies specific explanation.
*‘Spontaneous remission”’ of terminal cancer is one of the best known contemporary examples of this, and so is the effective use of
‘‘placebos,’’ substances given to patients that have no known pharmacological action, yet which sometimes induce visible changes in patients. In one study of placebos, patients hospitalized with bleeding peptic ulcers showed 70 percent
‘excellent results lasting over a period of one year’ when the doctor gave them an injection of distilled water and assured them that it was a new medicine that would cure them!
. In this connection it may be worthwhile to recall that until the last few decades most medications prescribed by physicians were pharmacologically inert. That is, physicians were prescribing placebos without knowing it, so that, in a sense, the ‘history of medical treatment until relatively recently is the history of the placebo effect.*
The important thing to remember about the placebo effect is that its neutrality makes it no more than a symbol. It is a representative of healing capacity and nothing more, and it is for this reason that any actual physical effects brought by them must be credited to the subjective world of man’s own mind. Not only are there many cases documented like the preceding, but there have been similar findings even more baffling with respect to death from taboo. In cases like those examined in the Murngin, a North Australian tribe, scientists could find no visible disease in any of the corpses in question, and