Gordon, Williams
As a person who is always trying to figure out stuff for himself, I have to say, that, while my bailiwick is unexplored country and maybe even the ammonia whirlpool at the top of Saturn, a single individual, if persistent enough, will find the natural limit to what he can or even wants to learn.
This is how I feel about both Brian Gordon's new intelligence about wrist in a Federfore, and Geoffrey Williams' expertise in hitting with only one side of the racket strings.
I'll do the new forehand thing-- have every reason in the world to try it-- but won't give up my flying grip change to eastern-and-no-more on my backhand. I never will hit as much topspin as Geoff or my youngest brother Echo-- I know that-- but will and already have achieved a good mix of topspin and pace thanks to Geoff's advice about pivoting hips straightening a slight relaxed bend out of the arm for lift-off racket acceleration.
So what makes me think I can use my wrist in a forehand as Brian Gordon not only describes but prescribes (or reports as advantageous from researching a large data base)? My answer should be entirely personal and individualized, as should yours, reader.
When I started getting more serious about tennis with Jane C. at 16, I was all hips and wrist and very wild. Once in a while I subdued that wrist. It still moved but didn't snap. Result: Did better. (Samuel Beckett: "So you failed. Good. Fail better next time.")
In addition, a month ago I hit with a real kid, someone generating huge pop and topspin, and he was pushing me around too much.
After trying every single remedy I knew, I started to use a bit of wrist.
Good experience.
In learning new forehand technique, however, progress isn't linear even when the transitional stroke path is.
The item of greatest difference is apt not even to have been included in the teacher's or writer's explanation that intrigued one that day.
The teacher (Gordon) will have generated/stimulated it, but nobody can achieve anything other than the player himself.
On my Federfore-- on which I spent years or decades trying to figure it out (even dropping balls on ice in Maine)-- I no longer consciously close racket right after its high point.
The closing rather happens naturally from taking elbow slightly away from body on a shallow rise approximately toward right rear fence post.
As a person who is always trying to figure out stuff for himself, I have to say, that, while my bailiwick is unexplored country and maybe even the ammonia whirlpool at the top of Saturn, a single individual, if persistent enough, will find the natural limit to what he can or even wants to learn.
This is how I feel about both Brian Gordon's new intelligence about wrist in a Federfore, and Geoffrey Williams' expertise in hitting with only one side of the racket strings.
I'll do the new forehand thing-- have every reason in the world to try it-- but won't give up my flying grip change to eastern-and-no-more on my backhand. I never will hit as much topspin as Geoff or my youngest brother Echo-- I know that-- but will and already have achieved a good mix of topspin and pace thanks to Geoff's advice about pivoting hips straightening a slight relaxed bend out of the arm for lift-off racket acceleration.
So what makes me think I can use my wrist in a forehand as Brian Gordon not only describes but prescribes (or reports as advantageous from researching a large data base)? My answer should be entirely personal and individualized, as should yours, reader.
When I started getting more serious about tennis with Jane C. at 16, I was all hips and wrist and very wild. Once in a while I subdued that wrist. It still moved but didn't snap. Result: Did better. (Samuel Beckett: "So you failed. Good. Fail better next time.")
In addition, a month ago I hit with a real kid, someone generating huge pop and topspin, and he was pushing me around too much.
After trying every single remedy I knew, I started to use a bit of wrist.
Good experience.
In learning new forehand technique, however, progress isn't linear even when the transitional stroke path is.
The item of greatest difference is apt not even to have been included in the teacher's or writer's explanation that intrigued one that day.
The teacher (Gordon) will have generated/stimulated it, but nobody can achieve anything other than the player himself.
On my Federfore-- on which I spent years or decades trying to figure it out (even dropping balls on ice in Maine)-- I no longer consciously close racket right after its high point.
The closing rather happens naturally from taking elbow slightly away from body on a shallow rise approximately toward right rear fence post.
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