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  • My Original Response to Rick Macci...

    Below are the original comments that I wrote to RickMacci in response to his comments to my comments to his video of Development of the ATP Forehand. I pared them down because...get this...I didn't want to appear to be argumentative. For me it is never a case of being right and being wrong. My only reason for ever writing anything is to state my case of how I feel...in my own style and in my own words. I know my tone...I have to live with it.

    But at any rate...here are my original thoughts. I am not rebuking RickMacci and the ATP Forehand but I am suggesting that there is a whole other realm of tennis that is being ignored with the conventional wisdom that passes for tennis development these days.

    Why am I sharing this with you now? It started with the traditional game of tennis. Scott's articles about the Kirsten Popp classical game and that morphed with a comment by stroke which further provoked me. Then Stotty and 10splayer said something and then it was off to the races...who cares if he flips or not? tennis_chiro had/has his doubts. It has something to do with the comments made about Tommy Haas at the Sony Open and it has something to do with the comment that gordonp has made about John McEnroe. It has a lot to do with the year of 1984 in tennis and that dubious Wimbledon final...and it has a lot to do with George Orwell and his vision. I am thinking critically about the USPTA and all the authorities in our lives that have led us astray. It may have had something to do with klacr's comments about modesty...probably not. I don't entertain thoughts like those. I only try to connect the dots...the three little dots. Just like dear old Ferdinand Celine...in his "Journey to The End of the Night".

    I ran my thoughts by bottle...aka John Escher (multiple author of published books and our resident literary expert and former Ivy League English professor) and he agreed (I hate that word) with me that it was good form to abbreviate my remarks in the ATP thread and to not appear to challenge RickMacci. But in the end (and this is the end my friends) we are stuck with who we are. An old leopard cannot change his spots...although I maintain that he can change the grip on his tennis racquet. I swear...I will never be put in a box of somebody else's making. I get tired of tippy toeing around everyone's issues...except for my own. Of which I never tire...of course. You are there and I am here.

    My original and traditional thoughts to RickMacci's response regarding the continental grip. Read 'em and weep...I say. With all due respect.



    Thanks Rick...I enjoyed your comments.

    Originally posted by RickMacci View Post
    At the highest level since the speed of the game is at an all time high and the spin of the ball is at an all time high, having the ability to naturally grab the ball with the racquet face slightly closed with a semi western or western( because the grip orientates the the racquet face) is much easier.
    Originally posted by don_budge View Post
    Rick Macci...
    "let me explain...there can be little adaptions or flairs because depending upon how you are holding the racquet...western, semi, eastern...hopefully no more continental forehands out there..."
    Thanks for your answer Rick. I totally understand your skepticism. But I watched John McEnroe and his continental grip based game dismantle Mats Wilander and his heavy topspin, strong gripped and standard issue two handed backhand in the Senior Tour Finals at London and he was asked after the interview if he thought that his style of play would be effective in the modern game of tennis and his answer was..."Yes"...if I am not mistaken. McEnroe himself thinks his approach to tennis is still relevant.

    Even the announcers for this particular match were speculating about the court surface and how it would effect the fate of the match. Their rationale was that the surface was slower so that it should favor Wilander in that regard. But as it was the slower surface seemed to favor McEnroe ironically enough. It gave him a bit more time to maneuver Wilander around the court. In the end...Wilander was so thoroughly trounced that he ended up attempting to serve and volley. He said himself of McEnroe..."he has a way of making you feel terrible on the tennis court".

    For the past several months I have been experimenting with the continental based ground stroke game, with the accompanying approach and volley game whenever possible, and I have had some very interesting results playing against much younger opponents using the current ATP style of play. Granted my experiment has been of a qualitative nature and not one supported by quantitative analysis but the results have been personally compelling. My conclusion is...I am not entirely convinced that the ATP Forehand is the only way to go here in the Modern Game of Tennis. Although you cannot argue with its' popularity.

    I might add that I am a big admirer of the Federer technique as applied to the Modern Game of tennis and prior to my experiment with the continental grip I was pursuing my own play along those lines. I find the information that you are bringing forth on the ATP forehand to be very helpful and informative. It has only been recently that I rethought, retaught, relearned and retooled my game into its present continental gripped state.

    The results that I speak of are of course personal in nature but I did try to document much of my experience in the two threads that I referenced. Due to their lengthy nature it is understandable if you didn't get a chance to peruse them. Your ATP Forehand video and the accompanying 3D Revolution thread provoked some rather curious thought within me. Albeit...my thoughts do not go lock step with the conventional wisdom that is taken for the basis of the technical philosophy for the Modern Game of Tennis as it stands today.

    I understand everything that you have put forth so far and I have read Brian Gordon's articles about the same. Although Brian's stuff is far more technical and more difficult to interpret when discussing from a teaching point of view tennis technique...it is no less compelling. Brian even mentioned in a post that an explanation that I offered for the behavior of the biomechanics of the stroke were pretty good...even though they were so simple. Which is ok, I think...very technical material can be summed up quite simply sometimes thereby decreasing the risk of losing the students interest that are not so technically inclined.

    So I have an idea for you and Brian to collaborate on in your spare time. Which I am certain is scarce...but what I propose is this. Measure quantifiably through the use of your electrodes and probes and computers the behavior of the wrist when it pertains to the differences in grip...western, eastern and the bane of modern coaches...the continental. Measure John McEnroe himself if that would be any help in furthering such a project or motivating one. He might be curious himself if this were to be proposed to him. Brian may find that this would be one of the most compelling studies ever done in tennis research. The Behavior of the Wrist and the Force that it Applies to the Ball as it Pertains to Different Grips on the Tennis Racquet. Do me a favor if you would...forward these thoughts to Brian. I wonder what his reaction would be. Would he altogether be dismissive or might he say to himself...Hmmm.

    I cite the old rivalry between John and Björn Borg as the example and the possible corollary between the standard issue of Modern Tennis and possible alternatives. Borg was dominating the tennis scene at the time with his heavy topspin and his one and half handed backhand...in the waning days of classic tennis and along came McEnroe to challenge him...and his approach to tennis. He was very successful with it. Not that he altogether dispensed with the Borgian play...but it certainly proved that there was room for more than one interpretation. I wonder if the same might be true of today. Perhaps there should be an "American School of Thought" where more of an attacking style of play is incorporated into the game as well. Not that all American players would play in this style...just those that find it suitable given their physical, mental and emotional makeups. Perhaps there should even be some allowance for this in the composition of our tennis courts...make them less abrasive.

    Thanks for all of your videos, drills and information that have been accessible to us in the general public via the internet. Thanks for sharing. Your contributions to the game of tennis are rather admirable...to say the least. Ever since the days of Bill Tilden and his masterpiece..."Match Play and Spin of the Ball", spin on the ball has been the game.
    Last edited by don_budge; 03-29-2013, 01:01 AM. Reason: for clarity's sake...
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    • More from 1984 Wimbledon Finals...The Doubles



      Just a short clip...of a 5 set doubles final...John McEnroe/Peter Fleming vs. Pat Cash/Paul McNamee. John McEnroe played this match the day before his thrashing of Connors. We don't get to see this anymore. Johnny was just warming up with the doubles final.

      The tradition of the doubles...lost in the flood. Another indication that modern tennis has gone astray. The modern singles game is not conducive to stellar doubles play.
      don_budge
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      • Underspin...

        Originally posted by bottle View Post
        Finally, I think, a recreational player should put first interest in recreational tennis and relegate tour tennis for once to its proper place.
        Well I cannot claim to have vanquished any 4.5 level players lately. But today I had some very interesting practice outdoors for the second time on the clay...the red clay of Sweden. The weather here finally turned...it has been a very cold spring. I love cold weather.

        My message goes out as usual to anyone that wants to listen...hacks, losers or tour professionals. It is only food for thought and I would never think of asking whether or not anyone agrees or not. In fact in all of my 1,119 posts I have never said...I agree with you, or I disagree with you. I have never said "in my opinion"...except one time when I was joking I said "in my humble opinion". That is simply not the point of this forum...at least I don't think that it is. The point is to discuss...or rather to put your view out there as clearly and in any style that you choose...for others to ponder. It is never my intention to ruffle feathers...maybe just a bit of irony perhaps. It's allowed.

        My practice partner is named Mats and he is 35 years old. I would say that he is at least two inches taller than my 6' 1"'s and needless to say his is 24 years younger. He is in pretty darned good shape too...he goes to the gym and plays several times a week. He told me that he used to be one of the elite juniors in Sweden and by that I took it to be top 50 or so....he certainly had accumulated enough points to win some pretty good level championships.

        He has a huge ATP forehand (not certain if it is a 1 or a 2 or a 3...or exactly version it is) but he crushes it. He hit the lines so hard a couple of times today that I swear they were pounded into the ground and a bit more stable after his play. Mats likes to play a lot of topspin off of the backhand as well. We practice in a format where we start the rally off with a groundstroke. Usually the first shot is to the forehand but as the practice session progresses the first ball is usually played just a little less kindly than in the beginning of the session. We tend to get a little competitive...and aggressive off of the forehand. More and more the ball seems to gravitate to the backhand with the first ball.

        So when Mats hits to my backhand, most of the time the ball is going to be a slice to his backhand and in this way I try to dictate the tempo of the game and slow it down so that my 59 year old legs don't lose the match for me. He destroyed me the first two games to 15...but I was working on him with what amounts to a bit of a rope a dope. My slices gradually started to turn into balls that I was cutting the bottom of the ball and the ball actually backs up on his side of the court which sort of neutralizes his huge top spin if he is in less than optimal position. Many times my severely sliced backhands are out right winners. Mixed in with this little devil, I can hit a very acute angled soft drop shot to the forehand which again completely neutralizes his ATP cannon. Another variation of my slice is low, short and wide to his forehand which again is very good at neutralizing his forehand...and yet another variation is deep into his forehand corner either driving or sort of lobbing deep. He seems to have more trouble generating his potential power and spin after I have worked on his head with all of the variations.

        Keep in mind that the basis of this attack is the backhand down the line from me...ala John McEnroe as I am left handed. I can play it down the line in the same variety of ways with variation of depth, spin and speed. The key to the whole deal is consistency and placement. I rarely miss. He gets some short balls out of the deal that he absolutely eats up but all in all the strategy is one that I have used for my entire career.

        The disguise of my backhand is also the other deal breaker...as I can hold off at the last split second before hitting the shot that I hit the bottom of the ball where it backs up...two balls came back over the net today. I love that when that happens. He was joking that I play ping pong tennis. My topspin forehand is 90 percent of the time trying to find his backhand or trying to make him play his forehand from as far as possible in his backhand corner...which leaves his entire forehand court open if I can reach his ATP cannon.

        It took its toll on him today...I won 4 games out of 7. What great fun it was...pretending to be a tennisplayer again. Getting him to chase the ball forwards is my strategy and anytime that I can I just love to send him sprinting back towards the baseline chasing a lob over his head. Drop shot and lob technique. Do this a couple of times to your opponent and you will see the discouragement etched on their face. Imagine that!
        don_budge
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        • Hoad, Rosewall...

          Doubles...old style.

          Stotty

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          • Originally posted by licensedcoach View Post
            Fabulous. But remember, Hoad and Rosewall were just 19 and 20 years old.

            don

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            • Originally posted by don_budge View Post
              It took its toll on him today...I won 4 games out of 7. What great fun it was...pretending to be a tennisplayer again. Getting him to chase the ball forwards is my strategy and anytime that I can I just love to send him sprinting back towards the baseline chasing a lob over his head. Drop shot and lob technique. Do this a couple of times to your opponent and you will see the discouragement etched on their face. Imagine that!
              OOOOOOOOoooo yeah! Lobndropshot AKA the yoyo!

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              • In the Middle of the Night...To Pee or not to Pee.

                Last night I woke up in the middle of the night. Out in the middle of nowhere...Frankie the American born chocolate labrador retriever deemed a nature call and as usual I decided to join him. There is something spiritually redeeming about getting up and going out into the darkness, barefoot and naked under the stars and the moon...to relieve oneself. A certain passion for freedom. A disdain for convention. A complete disregard for what others think. Piss on it. War Plans! The feel of the damp blades of grass under my feet. Frankie sniffing here...sniffing there. I hear him in the darkness...my beloved canine. Ever connected...to the master plan! Nature calls.

                President Oblabla...I hate war. Play tennis...not war. To bomb or not to bomb? That's an easy one...isn't it? For a Nobel Peace Prize winner? In the middle of the night...a no brainer. Of course it is a most unfortunate incident...but fortunately it is none of my business. It never has been. Let's be sensible and sit this one out. Is it too much to ask? Of civilized man. Here in Sweden nobody is contemplating attacking anybody for any reason...in the middle of the night. Perhaps it is a bit more difficult to make peace...and not war.

                So it is...returning from a nocturnal mission. I pass the little office on the right at the top of the stairs...foregoing the bedroom a meter further on. The computer with all of it's mystical allure draws me to her. Tennisplayer.net is calling my name. When I wake up in the middle of the night...many times I cannot resist looking on. To see what you guys are up to in the middle of the night. The Americans. How long will you put up with it? But of course it is not the middle of the night there. It's broad daylight. There is absolutely no excuse for not being able to see. The obvious.

                Wake up! Just say no! He will be taking to the television...just stick your head out the window and shout at the top of your lungs...I am mad as hell and I am not going to take it anymore!!!
                Last edited by don_budge; 09-09-2013, 12:47 AM. Reason: for clarity's sake...
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                • Retorded Shoulder Servers...Yoga stretch for shoulders

                  The older I get...the smarter I get.

                  Here is a shoulder stretch that I have been doing with Esther...not Escher. But at any rate...if you elect to try this you will definitely want to pay close attention to your limits as attempting to do these exercises without listening to your body will be foolish.



                  As Esther recommends I have been doing these exercises for about three weeks now with some nice benefits. Better posture being one of them...increased flexibility and strength in my shoulders being another. Better posture has a good influence on the appearance of your chest...if you know what I mean.

                  Proceed with caution and the attitude that Rome wasn't built in a day.
                  don_budge
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                  • Stevie Wonder's Innervisions...Misstra Know It All

                    My mother's maiden name was Wonder's. I could have been...oh never mind.

                    Live...I just love the people in this one. Sister's singing backup vocals. So cool...I love this song. The drummer reminds me of my old best friend...Winston. He was about 6' 8". Cool as can be. HFCC 1972. He took me under his wing...down to the hood. To play ball with the brothers. I quit the tennis team that year...to hang out. Detroit...just like I pictured it. Dum bum bum ba bum bum. Oou...oou...oou oou...oou...You know damn well he's got the super plan.




                    or the studio version...



                    Misstra Know It All...Stevie Wonder

                    He's a man
                    With a plan
                    Got a counterfeit dollar in his hand
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All

                    Playin' hard
                    Talkin' fast
                    Makin' sure that he won't be the last
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All

                    Makes a deal
                    With a smile
                    Knowin' all the time that his lie's a mile
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All

                    Must be seen
                    There's no doubt
                    He's the coolest one with the biggest mouth
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All

                    If you tell him he's livin' fast
                    He will say what do you know
                    If you had my kind of cash
                    You'd have more than one place to go oh

                    Oou...oou...oou oou...oou...

                    Any place
                    He will play
                    His only concern is how much you'll pay
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All

                    If he shakes
                    On a bet
                    He's the kind of dude that won't pay his debt
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All

                    When you say that he's living wrong
                    He'll tell you he knows he's livin' right
                    And you'd be a stronger man
                    if you took Misstra Know-It- All's advice oh oh

                    Oou...oou...oou oou...oou...

                    He's a man
                    With a plan
                    Got a counterfeit dollar in his hand
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All

                    Take my work
                    Please beware
                    Of a man that just don't give a care no
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All (Look out he's coming)

                    Dum bum bum ba bum bum,
                    Dum bum bum ba bum bum
                    Bum bum bum bum bum Say
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All

                    Can this line
                    Take his hand
                    Take your hat off to the man who's got the plan
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All

                    Every boy take your hand
                    To the man that's got the plan
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All

                    Give a hand to the man
                    Don't you know darn well he's got the super plan
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All

                    Give a hand to the man
                    You know damn well he's got the super plan
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All

                    If we had less of him
                    Don't you know we'd have a better land
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All

                    So give a hand to the man
                    Although you've given out as much as you can
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All

                    Check his sound out
                    He'll tell it all
                    Hey
                    You talk too much you worry me to death
                    He's Misstra Know-It-All

                    Last edited by don_budge; 09-22-2013, 09:23 AM.
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                    • Page 4...time to bring me back

                      This thread had regressed to page 4. Time to come back. Back to consciousness. Traditional Thoughts...not to be confused with Conventional Thoughts.

                      I have crossed the threshold of 1.00 posts a day. After skipping 465 days from the day that I joined to my first post. I never even knew that I was don_budge for 465 days. It was milestone for me...I have been looking at it for some time. Never consciously posting for numbers...only for content. 1,445 posts later as of this one.

                      I am at 1.02 posts a day. I wonder if I can reach 2.00...without posting for numbers. I wonder if I can live to be a million! God bless everyone...and have a super day!

                      for clarity's sake...

                      Last edited by don_budge; 11-13-2013, 03:12 AM. Reason: for clarity's sake...
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                      • How to Stop Losing? Stop being such a loser...

                        How do you stop losing? How about this...stop being such a loser. Listen to the words of "Losin' End" by the Doobie Brothers. I was listening to this song back in 1972...my friend Thomas Williamson was turning me on to the Doobie Brothers way back then. We were at the Don Budge Tennis Camp together. He showed me Carlos Castaneda too. The Journey to Ixtlan. The Lessons of Don Juan.



                        It's pathetic...isn't it. Listening to this poor sap...playing the fool. The sucker. That's ok...life's like that. We all take a turn...we are all losers. No one here gets out alive anyways.

                        Down on your luck? Life got you down? What are you going to do about it?

                        The first thing you do is lift your head up...you just got hit by a train didn't you? Still alive? Pick your head up because you just never know...there may be another train hot behind the other one that just ran over you. Railroad tracks over your heart...like Mike MacDonald sings about in "Losin' End".

                        Assess the situation. How bad is it? Can you think your way through it? Can you get your head around it? You're still thinking...that's a good sign. Still alive. Still kicking. There is still hope. Ok...lift up your head. Get up. Dust yourself off. You're ok. Still in the game.

                        Tennis? Love? What's the difference? Losers are losers...somebodies got to love don't they? Somebodies got to lose don't they? Maybe it's just your turn. Or my turn. The question is...do you hate to lose? Will you fight with all of your heart...with all of your soul? For all that is dear to you. Will you reach down deep...to Davy Jones Locker if you have to? Don't you want to be a hero? You're damn right...said John McEnroe to Jiminy Glick.

                        Check out Santana's "Winning". What's the difference between this song and the one that the loser is singing..."Losin' End".



                        Check it out. What is the difference? Come on...be honest with yourself. Honestly...the difference? Not much. Not much at all. Things could have been different. A couple of points may have gone your way. Is it luck? Is it fate? Join the crowd...all asking the same question. Chance or destiny? Hmmm...take your pick.

                        We are all losers. One day you are on top of the world. You show up to her apartment one day and she says...I have to go away for a while. The world crumbles right in front of you. What do you do? I don't know...I don't have any answers. Find the heart to start over...it's not so easy sometimes.

                        So here we are. Having this little honest discussion...me, myself and I. Winning? Losing? Those two impostors...treat them just the same. It's only life. It comes in a couple of different shades...black and white. One day you are on top and the next you are fighting for air. It can happen overnight...or it can take forever...death on the installment plan.

                        How to Stop Losing? Stop being such a loser. It's a hard habit to break. But you know what the kick start is...listen to "Winning". The first step is to hate losing. Then you get up...lift your head up first. Dust yourself off. Yeah...you can take a punch with the best of them. You can lose without being a loser. You hate to lose...as much as you hate being a loser. So you do what needs to be done. You do what ever it takes. You assess the situation. And you fight. You fight. You never quit. Because you hate to lose. You fight to the very last point. This is your mode of operation. It is in your genes. Because you hate to lose.

                        Today...I was playing against my much younger partner. We play games up to fifteen...starting the point with a groundstroke to the opponents forehand. Today we played for an hour and a half. I won 5-1. After a week...that left me weak. Thursday I didn't know what was wrong with me. No gas in the tank. Nothing. I made it through my lessons. Four hours. I had two hours of playing singles for lessons on Wednesday. Extra hours...extra lessons on Monday and Tuesday. Dog tired. I said to the wife before I left today...I don't know how much longer I can continue to play singles.

                        But half the battle is showing up. So I got there early and I waited on him. He won the first game...it was tough. He is motivated, strong and in shape. I have been teaching him for a couple of years now. He is playing more and more like me...only twenty years younger. Built like a real horse...my friend and partner. I won the next three games and each seemed to be tougher than the previous.

                        Then we were playing the longest point of the day...he had me four or five balls. Running me from side to side...I am playing defense...just barely staying in the point. Finally...I neutralize the point and we are on even footing. But at what cost? Here I am in the middle of this marathon point and I am thinking...I fought to get even...but it took all of my energy to get here. Maybe I just throw this point and take the twenty seconds or so to fetch a ball from the back of the court. I neutralized the point...but at what cost?

                        I didn't have the energy to get on top of it...to be aggressive enough to go on the attack. Like a punched out boxer wobbling on my legs...I pondered whether to throw the point or to try and outlast my younger, stronger, faster and more motivated opponent. I hung in there. I made the decision to hang on...to win at all costs. But I lost it. Exhaustion. I couldn't do it. But I won something. If only on the inside. I'm no loser. I finished out the game until the lights went out. "Thank God", I said. My partner laughed...he too was completely punched out. We shook hands...warmly.

                        I took a hot shower...and waited in my office for my lesson to show up. The two handed forehand lesson. Where was I going to find the energy? Deep down inside...that's where. These are lessons that I learned long ago. Winning and losing. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. But you never...I repeat never have to be a loser. You lift up your head...you keep your head in the game.
                        Last edited by don_budge; 11-18-2013, 12:56 AM. Reason: for clarity's sake...
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                        • Winning and Losin'....what's the difference? Answer...not much sometimes.

                          I was so far down that I couldn't get up...you know and one day I was one of life's losers...


                          Winning...Santana (1981)



                          One day I was on the ground
                          When I needed a hand
                          Then it couldn't be found
                          I was so far down that I couldn't get up
                          You know and one day I was one of life's losers
                          Even my friends were my accusers
                          In my head I lost before I begun

                          I had a dream but it turned to dust
                          And what I thought was love
                          That must have been lust
                          I was living in style
                          When the walls fell in
                          And when I played my hand
                          I looked like a joker
                          Turn around fate must have woke her
                          Cause lady luck she was waiting outside the door

                          I'm winning
                          I'm winning
                          I'm winning
                          I'm winning and I don't intend losing again

                          Too bad it belonged to me
                          It was the wrong time and not meant to be
                          It took a long time and I'm new born now
                          I can see the day that I bleed for
                          If it's agreed that there's a need
                          To play the game and to win again


                          Remember me, I was your fool, for really quite a long time...so I know how it feels to play on the losin' end...


                          Losin' End...The Doobie Brothers



                          There aren't enough words to say
                          When all I mean is I no longer love you
                          I'd like to leave it lie right there 'cause the rest ain't kind

                          I'm picking up my pride and I'll be on my way
                          If you no longer need me
                          I only have a word or two that I care to say

                          If you should ever find your spirit start to breaking
                          Girl, when your heart is aching
                          Remember me, I was your fool, for really quite a long time
                          So I know how it feels to play on the losin' end

                          When you finally turn and find no one around
                          To catch you when you're falling
                          To hear you when you're calling from down on the losin' end
                          Oh, ain't it just the losin' end

                          To catch you when you're falling
                          To hear you when you're calling from down on the losin' end
                          Oh, ain't it just the losin' end

                          Oh, ain't it just the losin' end
                          Hey, hey now baby, oh, ain't it just the losin' end
                          No, no, oh, ain't it just the losin' end

                          Last edited by don_budge; 11-18-2013, 12:15 AM.
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                          • I believe it.

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                            • Happy New Year 2014...and beyond!

                              It is eleven in the evening here in Sweden, but it is only five in the afternoon back in Michigan where I lived most of my life. My former life, that is. I would just like to wish everyone here on the forum a Happy New Year...welcome back Phil. It's nice to hear from you again.

                              I was once again searching for one of those backhands from the past. You know...that is how I came across TennisPlayer.net. I was searching for a backhand...the "real" Don Budge's backhand. I had a student that was switching over to the one-handed backhand so I googled "Don Budge backhand" and it led me to here. The rest is history...as they say.

                              But this time I was searching for the Pancho Segura backhand as I was curious what he had on his left hand wing that matched the incredible forehand that I found for a student of mine. I was trying to match her right hand wing that was basically out-of-control so to speak...with something that matched her left hand wing which didn't look so bad at all.

                              Once again...I struck pay dirt. Somehow the search for the Segura backhand led me to this book "excerpt". The book is called "The Terrible Splendor". As the story goes...it is a story of three extraordinary men. Baron Gottfried Von Cramm, J. Donald Budge and William Tilden III. Three extraordinary men indeed. Three extraordinary men that played an extraordinary game and made it their life's purpose. Tennis.

                              For me...this book says it all. The book is about the greatest tennis match that was ever played and this account of it is the best that I have ever heard or read. That goes to hearing the original story from the horses mouth himself...I sat next to Don Budge one summer night in Maryland someplace at a seafood restaurant and after drinking several glasses of champagne he was telling me quietly on the side a bit about this historical match. I never did quite get the gist of the whole story until I read this account which once again filled my heart with love...the love of the game. You know what I am talking about. All of you. We share the same love.

                              When I found this I knew immediately what I was going to do with it. I was going to post it and share it with you guys on this forum. All of you students of the game. If you have not read it then I have a rare opportunity to give you a special gift...the gift of the spirit of the game. In these passages...should you choose to read it you will find the essence of what the game is about. The very meaning of tennis. As Don Budge dueled the aristocratic Von Cramm on Center Court at Wimbledon in a 1937 Davis Cup match that has long been heralded as the greatest tennis match ever played. In this book some of the pages have been omitted...so if you want to know the whole story you will have to order the book.

                              When I was eighteen years old in 1972 I spent the first of two summers at the Don Budge Tennis Camp. I wasn't old enough to realize just what that name meant to tennis. My father gave the trip to his camp to me as a gift and I was lucky that Don invited me to spend the rest of the summer at the camp and the next as a counselor. Sometimes I am tempted to write about the magic of those two summers and someday I hope that I will. But now...I am the exact same age as Don Budge was when I knew him back in 1972 and 1973 so I realize what a gift that was to be in his presence for such a long time. He took a special interest in me it seems and who knows...maybe it somehow kept me out of jail. Those were turbulent times...instead of being at Budge's tennis camp those summers I might have been at Camp Vietnam.

                              When I found this book on the internet I read all of it in one sitting. Knowing Mr. Budge of course is one thing...but the character of Baron Gottfried Von Cramm is another thing and then of course there is that hapless hero of the game...William Tilden III. All heroes...two of them convicted of being homosexuals in less sympathetic times. It wasn't so long ago either. Not historically speaking. Needless to say...times have changed. Just as the game of tennis has.

                              Well...I am old enough to know now. Old enough to know a thing or two. Maybe not only about tennis even though there may be some doubt as to actually how much I know about tennis. It was suggested here on the forum that one contributor may have forgotten more than I ever would know. I won't argue though...everyone is entitled to their opinion. Ever so humble as they may be.

                              But I must confess one thing here to all of you...and most of you already know it. I must confess that I never realized that when I took the user name of don_budge that I would ever be posting on the forum here. But I must confess that I am extremely proud that I did. I can honestly say that I do it in honor and in memory of the man himself and I hope that he would be proud of me...and I think that he would have. He liked me...I know that. He helped me...he helped me to let the game come to me. In my own way...I was always true to her. I defend her honor...to the end.

                              I joined the website on December 31, 2009 and here it is December 31, 2013. Four years to the day. I arrived here in Sweden from the United States on December 30, 2004. Nine years ago...almost to the day. Much has happened hasn't it? Much to me and much to the rest of the world. It is ironic isn't it? The earth has gone around the sun exactly four times and has returned to the same point in time and space. But isn't it the irony in life that keeps it interesting. Interesting that is, for those of us that have the luxury of pondering the irony of it. Some are fighting for the next meal....aren't they? It is tough out there. Sure it is. It got tough too, for that aristocratic son of a gun Von Cramm too. Circumstance. Is it luck or fate? You tell me. Some combination of? I don't know. I am always guessing fate though. For lack of a better answer. Well...that and for meeting an angel in my dreams. Also meeting the devil in a nightmare.

                              So here it is my friends..."The Terrible Splendor" by Marshall Jon Fisher. What a story about the greatest tennis match that was ever played and about the lives of the three principal characters involved. My old friend J. Donald Budge, the Baron Gottfried Von Cram and William Tilden III. If ever there was a tale that catches the spirit of the game...I believe that this is it. If it isn't...then it is at least one of the three little dots that you will need to connect the past with the present...and into the future. That being said...there is no better time than to post this now in hopes that you will enjoy it half as much as I have.

                              When shall we three meet again?
                              In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

                              When the hurlyburly's done,
                              When the battle's lost and won.

                              That will be ere the set of sun.

                              -Macbeth

                              Yours Truly...don_budge

                              Before Federer versus Nadal, before Borg versus McEnroe, the greatest tennis match ever played pitted the dominant Don Budge against the seductively handsome Baron Gottfried von Cramm. This deciding 1937 Davis Cup match, played on the hallowed grounds of Wimbledon, was a battle of titans: the world's number one tennis player against the number two; America against Germany; democracy against fascism. For five superhuman sets, the duo’s brilliant shotmaking kept the Centre Court crowd–and the world–spellbound.But the match’s significance extended well beyond the immaculate grass courts of Wimbledon. Against the backdrop of the Great Depression and the brink of World War II, one man played for the pride of his country while the other played for his life. Budge, the humble hard-working American who would soon become the first man to win all four Grand Slam titles in the same year, vied to keep the Davis Cup out of the hands of the Nazi regime. On the other side of the net, the immensely popular and elegant von Cramm fought Budge point for point knowing that a loss might precipitate his descent into the living hell being constructed behind barbed wire back home.Born into an aristocratic family, von Cramm was admired for his devastating good looks as well as his unparalleled sportsmanship. But he harbored a dark secret, one that put him under increasing Gestapo surveillance. And his situation was made even more perilous by his refusal to join the Nazi Party or defend Hitler. Desperately relying on his athletic achievements and the global spotlight to keep him out of the Gestapo’s clutches, his strategy was to keep traveling and keep winning. A Davis Cup victory would make him the toast of Germany. A loss might be catastrophic. Watching the mesmerizingly intense match from the stands was von Cramm’s mentor and all-time tennis superstar Bill Tilden–a consummate showman whose double life would run in ironic counterpoint to that of his German pupil.Set at a time when sports and politics were inextricably linked, A Terrible Splendor gives readers a courtside seat on that fateful day, moving gracefully between the tennis match for the ages and the dramatic events leading Germany, Britain, and America into global war. A book like no other in its weaving of social significance and athletic spectacle, this soul-stirring account is ultimately a tribute to the strength of the human spirit.


                              Good luck in the next year...and all of the years that follow. Live life as you play the game. In that way you will have fewer regrets.
                              Last edited by don_budge; 01-01-2014, 01:30 AM. Reason: for clarity's sake...
                              don_budge
                              Performance Analysthttps://www.tennisplayer.net/bulleti...ilies/cool.png

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                              • What a book! I've read a fair amount already. Wouldn't you just love to have an H.G. Wells time machine to be able to go back and watch that game?

                                I'd use my time machine to go hurtling back to peek at ancient Rome, the final hours in the bunker, and old tennis matches...plenty of old tennis matches.

                                I think Don Budge would be proud of don_budge. The way you've represented the man on the forum is quite something. I think he'd be touched...that would be the best word describe it...touched. How could he not be.

                                And now for something completely different:

                                Working out the steps is a very complicated process—something like writing music. You have to think of some step that flows into the next one, and the whole dance must have an integrated pattern. If the dance is right, there shouldn't be a single superfluous movement. It should build to a climax and stop! - FRED ASTAIRE
                                Last edited by stotty; 01-01-2014, 02:17 PM.
                                Stotty

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