The Problem of Finishing

By Allen Fox, Ph.D.

In my consulting with aspiring young tournament players and even with touring pros one of the most common problems I hear is, "When I am serving for the set or the match I often get nervous and play a terrible game to let my opponent back in, and then my own game falls apart."

This rarely happens when players are truly confident and much better than their opponents. But when they are worse or about even and/or lack confidence, it happens often.

A variation of this complaint is, "I get ahead in a set, then become over-confident, relax, and my opponent comes back to beat me." Over confidence, though, is not really the problem, as we will see.

These players all think there is something wrong with them, that they are abnormal, but they aren't. Both of these complaints are quite normal symptoms of the difficulty of finishing, and finishing is a prime mental hurdle to be overcome in any closely contested tennis match.

Most players get nervous when they are ahead rather than behind. When I ask players, from beginners to world champions, when they get the most nervous most tell me it is when they are ahead of a dangerous opponent and on the verge of winning.

At first glance this seems illogical. They should be more nervous when they are behind, since most of us are afraid of losing. We ought to be more concerned about faltering when we are down match point, since doing so means we immediately lose, than when we are up match point, and the worst that can happen is that we would be even. So what makes us so nervous and stressed when we are ahead?

Is it the "fear of winning?" One theory that is often bandied about is that these people are afraid of winning because that's what it looks like when they snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. These theorists throw out complex psycho-babble explanations like, "These players deep down don't feel they deserve to win so they subconsciously make themselves lose."

I find the idea that players are afraid of winning hard to swallow. At least I have never met anybody who was. On the other hand, I've met plenty who are afraid of losing - in fact, pretty much everybody is.

In my own experience, losing was the only thing I was afraid of. The feeling I had was one of conservatism. I had my opponent down, the finish line was in sight, and I didn't want him to get away. I had the marbles in my hand, and I wanted to close it without risk of losing them.

Winning is a personal test.

If there had been a time limit on the match I would have gone into a stall. Having reached the "moment of truth" I was fearful that if I let this opportunity slip, I might not get another. I felt the urgency to win now, but also felt the risk that I might not.

Winning is a personal test. It may be that the nervousness comes from the quantum difference between being on the verge of winning and actually notching up the win. Reaching the verge of a win is a lot easier psychologically than actually finishing it, and all of us have our insecurities as to whether we can pull it off.

When we are ahead of tough opponents we all know that until we have won the last point, they can, at any time, come back and beat us. We have doubts as to whether we have whatever it takes to push on through to a win. Since we have gotten ahead, our games are obviously adequate, but until the win is actually in hand we must question our intangibles.

Do we have the winner's knack? Could we possibly be missing the elusive "it" factor that winners possess? There is a test factor, particularly in the bigger situations, and we won't know whether we will pass until we actually finish, and this uncertainty is scary and stressful.

The scoring system in tennis is almost diabolical.

The tennis scoring system makes matters worse. As I've written before, tennis has a stress-inducing scoring system. (Click Here.) It could almost be called diabolical. It is different from most other sports and more stressful because throughout the match some points are substantially more important than others.

In other sports the score is generally cumulative throughout the contest, and whoever has the most points at the end wins. In baseball, for example, you keep adding up the runs, and the winning team simply has the most after 9 innings. It's very straightforward.

Football, soccer, and basketball are essentially the same except that the game is over when time runs out. Still, each team just keeps adding up its points. Of course there is a great deal of pressure in all sports if the scores are close toward the end of the contest, but none are as continuously stressful as tennis.

Consider the situation in tennis. If you are playing a close set, say you are up 5-4 or 6-5, and you reach set point there is a huge swing in the match if you win that one point. You will have won about as many total points as your opponent, and should, for all intents and purposes, be about even. But winning the next point gives you the set, and you suddenly have half the match under your belt while at the same time, you've wiped out all of your opponent's points.

In most sports whoever has the most points wins.

Having half a match and your opponent going back to zero is an enormous discrepancy hinging on the outcome of a single point, especially when the two players are actually about even. Moreover, since you and your opponent are so nearly equal you will be well-aware of the danger posed by losing that point.

Your opponent could quickly turn the tables on you. He could even the score with two points, and with a little bad luck you could be going back to zero with your opponent up half a match. That's quite a swing, and it puts extraordinary pressure on the outcome of that single point.

There will be even more pressure on the players if the score reaches 6-all, and they play a tie-breaker. Now the points are all very important, and it becomes a sprint to the finish under a constant load of pressure.

When one of the players gets to set point in the breaker, say at 6-5 or 7-6, the pressure ratchets up yet another notch. If you're up, you are one point away from winning the set but only three points away from losing it. And all of this is happening in the middle of the match, not at the end. In a two out of three set contest it can go on twice before culminating in the big showdown in the third set.

The impact of winning or losing key points rachets up the pressure.

And if this were not enough, the same thing happens on a lesser scale in each game. If you reach game point and win it, the usual tennis outcome occurs - you get the entire game while your opponent gets nothing, all the points he won in the game having been eliminated.

The game could be extremely close and hard-fought, swinging back and forth many times from deuce to add. But if one player wins the game point, he gets the entire game and the other player gets nothing. This creates pressure since the game point is obviously more important than any other point in the game. On top of that, the pressure within the game even ratchets up as the score approaches game point. The deuce point gets tense just because it gives the winner game point.

That's very different from the other sports. You could create the same situation in basketball if you changed the scoring system such that after every five minutes the next basket would count for 10 points instead of two, and the other team would lose five. That would add some huge pressure periodically to the middle of the game - as happens in tennis - instead of having to wait for the big pressure until the end of the game.

Golfers claim they have the most stressful scoring system.

Golfers often claim they have the most stressful scoring system because when they make a mistake they have to live with it for the rest of the contest, whereas tennis players can wipe out their mistakes by winning the next games and sets. Of course the second part of this claim is quite true, but the first part isn't.

Each stroke in golf counts the same, just as it does in other sports, except that the golf scoring system is inverted. You win by accumulating fewer points (strokes) rather than more. As in golf, basketball teams must suffer for an early error (like a missed layup) for the rest of the contest in that their point total will always be two points less it could have been. So don't let the golfers fool you - the scoring system in tennis is tougher.

Conceptually, tennis scoring presents us with an increasingly important and stressful series of individual battles, the outcome of which is all or nothing, win or lose. Each game is a separate struggle, as is each set, and, ultimately, the match. Thus we may be on the verge of winning (finishing) a number of separate battles - for the game, for the set, and for the match - throughout the contest. Of course they have different levels of importance, but each presents us with the same problem of finishing and adds to the stress of the overall match. Each requires that we supply that extra emotional push to get over each individual hump, be it to win the game, set, or match.

The additional fact that the scoring system always allows your opponent the possibility of coming back, regardless of the score, makes it even more unlike football or basketball where you can build up a big lead and simply run out the clock. In tennis you have to do the dirty work of affirmatively finishing off your opponent.

Stress grows in each little battle as you near the finish. Winning game point is more stressful than winning the deuce point, winning the deuce point is more stressful than winning the 15-all point, and so forth. Similarly, winning the 4-all game is more stressful than winning the 2-all game, and winning the game that gives you the set is more stressful still.

When you are leading 5-4 and need only four more points for the set, winning those final four can feel like climbing Everest. Finally, set point is the most stressful in the set and match point is the most stressful in the match.

Finishing is a problem in any sport. Of course you see the same phenomenon in other sports, but it happens at the end of the contest, not every few minutes. Golfers, even great ones, are famously prone to nerves near the end when they have leads in major events, often yipping putts with the tournament on the line.

Greg Norman lost a six shot lead in the final round of the Masters.

In the 2001 US Open Championship Mark Brooks 3-putted his way out of the lead on the 18th hole, and Retief Goosen missed a 2 foot putt on the 18th which would have given him the Championship. Goosen did win it in a playoff the next day, which shows how nerves can flare up in one crucial situation and simmer down in the next.

In 1996 Greg Norman took a six-shot lead into the final round of The Masters, shot a 78 and lost to Nick Faldo by five strokes, and in 1999 Jean van de Velde had a three-stroke lead going into the final hole of the US Open Championship, needing only a double-bogey 6 to win. He managed to shoot a 7 and eventually lost in a playoff.

Sometimes there is a contagion where whole teams become nervous with a lead in big situations. The Boston Red Sox, for example, had a long team history of losing almost insurmountable leads. Their classic was when they were leading the New York Mets 3 games to 2 in the 1986 World Series and had a 2 run lead in the 10th inning, Mets up, with 2 out and nobody on base. Red Sox first baseman Bill Buckner booted an easy ground ball, and this eventually led to losing the game and ultimately the Series.

But nothing lasts forever. The Red Sox finally broke the "curse" by winning the World Series in 2004 and again in 2007 when the Cleveland Indians blew a 3-1 series lead against them in the 2007 American League Championship Series.

Escape

People try to escape the stress of finishing. High stress is unpleasant, and the natural human impulse is to escape it whenever possible. Since experience has taught us that stress grows when we are ahead and nearing the finish of a set or match, this is the time to be most wary of counterproductive emotional escape responses - one of which is claiming to be overconfident, relaxing, and letting your opponent make a come-back.

Bill Bruckner's famous boot in the 10th inning cost the Red Sox a game and probably the world series in 1986.

I have heard that same story on countless occasions from consulting clients. "I got up 4-1, became overconfident, relaxed, and lost the set." If these players have really lost sets and matches by relaxing with a lead, they must know this is a dangerous possibility. Their explanation of "becoming overconfident" is simply not reasonable, and the true explanation, of course, lies elsewhere.

The hidden fact is that these players subconsciously want to avoid the growing stress of finishing. They have what appears to be a substantial lead, so they delude themselves into feeling they can safely put off this bit of nasty work. They want to delay - unconsciously, of course - the increasing mental effort required to win the set, and they end up getting beaten. It feels like overconfidence, but it's really just the procrastination of a dirty job.

The cure starts, as usual, by understanding reality - that the problem is procrastination rather than overconfidence. Calling it overconfidence is an attractive cover-up, making the issue appear to be almost a virtue rather than the weakness it really is. Once the problem is clearly identified and acknowledged as a weakness, players can cure it by making a special effort to concentrate harder and keep up their intensity when they are ahead - to absorb the stress and keep driving forward until the set is actually over.

Beware of the let-down after winning the first set. The same issue often surfaces when players win the first set in a two out of three set match, particularly if it has been close and hard-fought.

Winning a set of this kind is stressful and mentally draining, and afterwards an instantaneous and palpable feeling of relief floods their system. They have triumphed over the tension of set point and reached a sharp transition phase where one set has ended and a new one begins. Here their subconscious mind yearns for a breather before shouldering the rigors of the next set. And with a one set lead, they sense the leeway to take it.

This situation often sets up a conflict between the players' logical mind, which tells them to keep applying the pressure and drive on to the finish, and the siren call of their subconscious, which proposes a temporary escape from competitive unpleasantness with a relaxing mental break. In any case, with a set under one's belt it certainly feels like there is a little room to relax. But don't fall for it.

Even great players can succumb to counterproductive entreaties.

Even the great players sometimes succumb. When physically and mentally tired, even the pros make the mistake of yielding to these counterproductive subconscious entreaties.

For example, in 2005 the then world's number one player, Roger Federer, won the first two bruising sets 7-6, 7-6 over David Nalbandian in the finals of the Masters Championship. Unfortunately for Federer, it was a 3 out of 5 set match, so his job wasn't quite over.

These were stressful, mentally exhausting sets, and Federer did what most of us might have done with such a hefty lead - take a little mental R&R - which was dangerous against a tough guy like Nalbandian, who was not one to give up when he got behind. Federer opened the door a crack, allowed Nalbandian back in, and got beaten in a fifth set tiebreaker. Even the greatest player in the world with an enormous lead remained in danger as long as the match was not finished.

Be prepared to redouble your efforts after winning the first set. Your counter to the natural tendency to ease up is the same as always - forewarned is forearmed. You know beforehand that you will have a tendency to relax. Be ready to counter it. If you win the first set, be determined to immediately hump yourself up at the start of the second.

Try to convince yourself that the match is starting over and that you must, at all costs, jump out to an early lead. Brad Gilbert suggested you tell yourself you are down a set instead of up. As the next set starts come roaring out of the box, more aggressive, resolute, and focused than ever.

Nalbandian stayed tough and defeated Federer from 2 sets down.

You have a golden opportunity to convince your opponents, who may be on the brink of becoming discouraged, that they are in for a long and painful afternoon. Your immediate objective is to shove them over the edge by being tough. Concentrate hard on each point right away to minimize your errors.

Keep in mind that your opponents are looking for some sign of weakness to convince them that the first set was a fluke. This offers them hope and a crack in the door. As the second set begins you want to keep that door shut or, better still, slam it on your opponent's foot. When you are behind never forget that your opponent may have trouble finishing as well.

On the other hand, the difficulties of finishing also have a bright side. Namely, when your opponents are ahead they will also face these difficulties, and understanding this can help you mount a come-back. When you are behind and prone to discouragement remind yourself that your opponents may well procrastinate and relax or tighten up and choke. So you should stiffen your resolve in order to help them do so.

The strategic rule here is that whenever your opponents are up game point, you should make every effort to play a tough point. Avoid making it easy on them by going for a low percentage winner and missing early. Of course if a high percentage opportunity for a winner opens up by all means take it.

Remember that your opponents are feeling the pressure and praying for a quick error, just as you would if the situation were reversed. So don't give it to them. Their nerves may be too much on edge to grind out a long point or make a passing shot. Take advantage by forcing them to come up with the great play to beat you.

Corollary rules are: 1.) When your opponent is serving and up game point never miss the serve return if you can possibly help it, and 2.) When you are serving and down game point, get your first serve in.

It is particularly untimely to become upset when you are down. Of course this is exactly when players are most likely to do so. It seems perverse, but I have often seen players that are down act as if they were in a hurry to lose and get off the court.

An example was the behavior of a member of one of my old Pepperdine teams whom we'll call George. George was a muscular young Australian alpha male. He had arrived as a freshman with loads of physical talent but with a bad temper and short fuse. Over the next year and a half he worked hard on controlling himself, with some success.

Midway through his sophomore year he was embroiled in a difficult match where he had lost the first set by a hair-thin margin. He had fought throughout to remain calm and did a quite good job of it. Nonetheless, in the see-saw first set every break had gone against him.

It was as if some malignant spirit was trying to test him. Every let cord fell back on his side, and on every big point his opponent came up with a miraculous shot or he faltered with an awful one. Despite all, he remained under control and determined as the second set began.

The vicious battle continued on even terms until deep in the second set. Here George made several crucial errors, and the set began to slip away. As it did, his emotional control crumbled along with it.

Unable to suppress his aggravation any longer, George began to howl in anger or whack balls into the fence when he made mistakes. The dam had burst. George became a seething caldron of frustration and rage, his game quickly went south, and his opponent finished him off in short order.

George had done a relatively good job of controlling himself for quite a long time in the face of an unusual series of frustrations and disappointments. His opinion, as we talked afterward, was that he had given it a good effort and controlled himself until so many breaks went against him that the frustration became intolerable. He felt he had let himself go only after having absorbed as much bad luck as any reasonable man could take and because he was so far behind he felt the match was virtually lost anyway.

I only partially agreed with him. He had controlled himself well - for him - but not well enough. In fact George's discipline broke down at the worst possible time. Late in the match, when his opponent was under pressure to finish, was just when he needed a cool head the most.

Early in the match he could even have afforded a lapse or two (although this is never a good idea). But down a set and behind late in the second, a breakdown was certain to be immediately fatal. There was no longer time for recovery. This was the time to stiffen his resolve and test his opponent's nerves, forcing him to show his last card. Instead, George folded his own hand early.

George became so engrossed in his own problems he forgot the problems of his opponent, the most important of which is the difficulty of finishing. This peaks at the end of the match. It is here that opponents are most likely to falter, so it is here that champions become the toughest, regardless of the frustrations they may have suffered in the early going. They dig in, increase their emotional discipline, and force their opponents to fight for every inch of ground.

Finishing is seldom easy, but against a determined opponent it is substantially less easy. George gave it a partial effort, but partial efforts aren't good enough. The effort needs to last throughout the match.

The bottom line is this. If you are ahead but not truly confident of winning, you must exert extra emotional discipline to resist procrastination of the final push. Stay highly motivated, and pursue your game plan with the faith that your game and plan are ultimately sufficient for victory.

This article is excerpted from Allen's new book, Tennis: Winning the Mental Match, which will be available at the end of 2010 on Amazon and on Allen's new website, www.allenfoxtennis.net.