Last weekend, we veered from our pre-planned Summer of 2014 tournament schedule just a bit. After returning from a good run at Southerns, I think my son and I were both ready to stick close to home for a few days, so he decided against playing our state clay open and opted instead to play in his first men’s open tournament offering prize money to the top finishers. It was a great call.
After getting a bye in the first round, my son was slated to play a young man he had played twice before: once in a junior tournament and once in his first ITA Summer Circuit tournament the summer after his freshman year of high school. In the first match, my son got beaten pretty handily by his older, much bigger opponent, and the match was a physical and mental battle for sure. My son lost that one but soon had the opportunity for a rematch on the courts of UGA.
That second time was a different story. My son had a point to prove. His opponent, who was headed off to a big SEC D1 college tennis program in the fall, was feeling pretty good going into the match. He had recently beaten my son convincingly and asserted his dominance both on the court and off (that’s a story for another day!). My son, on the other hand, had just finished his first year of high school, had yet to hit his growth spurt, and had a bit of a bruised ego from the earlier loss. He wanted this win, and he wanted it badly. His opponent knew he was in for a fight, and that’s exactly what he got. My son was not going to lose to this young man again. He was going to use every weapon in his arsenal to take this guy down. He had a point to prove, and he wasn’t stopping until he found a way to win that match. It was a big turning point for my son, walking off the court with a 7-5, 7-5 win, but it sort of put the final nail in the coffin of the relationship between these two players. There was no love lost on either side.
Flash forward almost two years to the day. The guys were cordial enough to each other as they walked onto the court for their warmup. You could tell they were sizing each other up – from my son’s side, he wanted to see what two years of college tennis had done for his opponent; from the opponent’s side, he wanted to see what a few inches and pounds translated into from my son’s side of the net. They started playing, and it became quickly apparent that the past two years had been pretty kind to my son development wise. He took the first set 6-1 and didn’t let up until he claimed the W and some new-found respect from his opponent.
After the match, both guys were in the locker room cooling off and struck up a guarded conversation that morphed into a co-coaching session for each of them. They agreed to put the past behind them and to try to help each other out moving forward. I know I’ve only alluded to their past history, but believe me when I tell you this was a huge development for both guys! They had both matured tremendously since their last meetings, and I think there might even be a friendship in the works here.
A little while later, the college guy and I were standing in line waiting for lunch, and he complimented my son’s play. When I said, “Well, you made some uncharacteristic unforced errors out there today,” his response was, “They weren’t unforced. They may have looked that way, but [your son] was keeping the ball deep, moving me around, and making me miss. He played a great match out there.” I thanked him for the nice words and marveled at how different he seemed from two years ago.
Over the past week, the two of them have texted a few times, talking about their match, sure, but also talking about college and what’s ahead for both of them.
It’s hard to describe, but seeing that kind of growth in both of these young men was a reminder of what tennis can do. We all know how humbling this game can be, that height and weight don’t always matter, that it’s the size of the fight in the dog (not the other way around) that counts. But what I witnessed last Saturday was more than that. It was an in-your-face look at boyhood to manhood. It was a realization that my son, my baby boy, has learned that showing respect for the guy on the other side of the net, playing within himself and leaving any past negativity in the past, treating each match as the unique opportunity it is for a different outcome can open new doors to new friendships and new experiences. While I don’t know this college guy very well, I felt such pride for both of these young men. Wherever their tennis takes them will be great, I’m sure, but it’s where the lessons from tennis take them that I can’t wait to see. Yes, they were playing for money that day (which, let’s face it, is probably a way bigger motivator for older teens and college kids than a plastic trophy), but the prize they each received has nothing to do with a dollar sign.
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