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Federfuss or Ziegener?
The important thing is which name would be more appropriate, not whether I am being ignored.
For the record Satchel Paige's pitches were called Hesitation Pitch, Bat Dodger, Hurry-up Ball, Midnight Rider, Four-Day Creeper, Nothin', Bee Ball, Jump Ball, Trouble Ball, The Two-Hump Blooper, Long Tom, The Barber and Little Tom.
Compare the color of this with the blandness of the last couple of posts.
You may not think that blandness is the problem of American tennis discussion, but it's surely one of the problems.
I've always thought there was a direct relation between the sudden connections of expressive language and the sudden mental connections between different physical activities, even among tennis strokes, not to mention philosophical, political and ethical choice.
So, just as there is in nature a featherfoot, a kind of chicken with liquid scimitars flowing out of its ankles, there may be a new forehand waiting to be born, more curious than other fowl.
The eighties pro Valerie Ziegenfuss, in a great article she wrote for a book called "Tennis for Women" described some kind of gyro or eccentric inventor she met while touring in Texas.
I don't even know if he was a touring pro like her, a tennis instructor or tennis player and don't think it matters.
His theory was that the followthrough on a tennis forehand doesn't have anywhere to go except across the body, and he convinced Ms. Ziegenfuss to reverse the conventional order of body then arm.
As I confessed in my previous post, I believe as an educational tool coming from medieval times one should mimic great players whenever one has the chance, and I reported on some of my failures and successes in this regard (neglecting a year each on Sampras and Agassi with mediocre result).
The successes (a relative term of course) were Ziegenfuss and Federer.
The Ziegenfuss I developed involved a small, vertical, compact and very
round loop-- a lot of arm motion sequencing into body pivot from the shoulders only (I hope that's interesting-- it was to me).
And I was very impressed with the similarity between the Ziegenfuss followthrough and that of Ivan Lendl-- a funny little skunk tail barely to the left.
I started beating people I hadn't before. Forgive me for being blown away and more convinced than ever that mimicry was the way to go.
So okay, now my mimicry of Federer has led to a blended move of lift and both arms extended at about ninety degrees to each other.
From there the upper body can rotate the racket into position.
But particularly on an inside out forehand, the amateur is likely to pull the ball a bit left, possibly with more sidespin than he wants, too.
For the Federfuss, the featherfoot, or the Ziegener, simply reverse order and follow the same pattern created by 10,000 previous Federfores. When the two arms are about parallel let the body go from both legs and gut.
Since initial move for both strokes results in the same divergence of your two straight arms, you won't be bad in the deception department, but if someone starts to read you, you can reverse where you're hitting the shots in a fine dipsey-doodle.
Well, I hope I haven't been too preacherly, even though I think people should make discoveries every moment of every day.
The important thing is which name would be more appropriate, not whether I am being ignored.
For the record Satchel Paige's pitches were called Hesitation Pitch, Bat Dodger, Hurry-up Ball, Midnight Rider, Four-Day Creeper, Nothin', Bee Ball, Jump Ball, Trouble Ball, The Two-Hump Blooper, Long Tom, The Barber and Little Tom.
Compare the color of this with the blandness of the last couple of posts.
You may not think that blandness is the problem of American tennis discussion, but it's surely one of the problems.
I've always thought there was a direct relation between the sudden connections of expressive language and the sudden mental connections between different physical activities, even among tennis strokes, not to mention philosophical, political and ethical choice.
So, just as there is in nature a featherfoot, a kind of chicken with liquid scimitars flowing out of its ankles, there may be a new forehand waiting to be born, more curious than other fowl.
The eighties pro Valerie Ziegenfuss, in a great article she wrote for a book called "Tennis for Women" described some kind of gyro or eccentric inventor she met while touring in Texas.
I don't even know if he was a touring pro like her, a tennis instructor or tennis player and don't think it matters.
His theory was that the followthrough on a tennis forehand doesn't have anywhere to go except across the body, and he convinced Ms. Ziegenfuss to reverse the conventional order of body then arm.
As I confessed in my previous post, I believe as an educational tool coming from medieval times one should mimic great players whenever one has the chance, and I reported on some of my failures and successes in this regard (neglecting a year each on Sampras and Agassi with mediocre result).
The successes (a relative term of course) were Ziegenfuss and Federer.
The Ziegenfuss I developed involved a small, vertical, compact and very
round loop-- a lot of arm motion sequencing into body pivot from the shoulders only (I hope that's interesting-- it was to me).
And I was very impressed with the similarity between the Ziegenfuss followthrough and that of Ivan Lendl-- a funny little skunk tail barely to the left.
I started beating people I hadn't before. Forgive me for being blown away and more convinced than ever that mimicry was the way to go.
So okay, now my mimicry of Federer has led to a blended move of lift and both arms extended at about ninety degrees to each other.
From there the upper body can rotate the racket into position.
But particularly on an inside out forehand, the amateur is likely to pull the ball a bit left, possibly with more sidespin than he wants, too.
For the Federfuss, the featherfoot, or the Ziegener, simply reverse order and follow the same pattern created by 10,000 previous Federfores. When the two arms are about parallel let the body go from both legs and gut.
Since initial move for both strokes results in the same divergence of your two straight arms, you won't be bad in the deception department, but if someone starts to read you, you can reverse where you're hitting the shots in a fine dipsey-doodle.
Well, I hope I haven't been too preacherly, even though I think people should make discoveries every moment of every day.
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