All Court Tennis:
How to Win a National Title
Brent Abel
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How did all court tennis produce this gold ball? |
In my previous two articles we looked at the basic principles of all-court tennis (Click Here) and also the range of all-court grips and how they apply to the various strokes and tactical situations. (Click Here.)
As I reported in the second article, recently I was fortunate enough to win the Men's National Hardcourt Singles title in the 60 and over division played at Mission Hills Country Club in Rancho Mirage, California (near Palm Springs). In this third article, I want to give a personal account of my experience playing that event. Although I was initially reluctant to write about it thinking that might seem boastful, John Yandell convinced me to do it (insisted actually), saying that it was a great way to show how effective and flexible the all-court style was in competition.
It goes without saying that winning a national title was deeply satisfying. But in this article, I'm less interested in results than process. My goal here is to help you see how to apply the principles of all-court tennis to your tennis no matter what playing level you're at - whether you're a 3.5 trying to win a park tournament, a 4.5 out to do well at local NTRP or age group events, a junior or an open player.
Self-Definition
So let's start with another look at the all-court system, and then I'll describe the process of training and playing the tournament. We'll start with the final preparation phase two weeks prior to the event, and also take some critical elements of the mental game that I've incorporated into my overall approach.
Thirty years ago, my mentor Tom Stow told me that the biggest benefit of playing all-court tennis is that it's simply more fun. In singles, all-court tennis lets you use more shots and play in more parts of the court. My title run showed that playing an all court style with emphasis on pressuring the opponent and coming to the net at every reasonable opportunity can be successful even at the national level. But all-court tennis' emphasis on moving forward also creates a natural fit for your doubles game - an activity we all know is a heavy part of recreational tennis.
It all starts with the concept of defining yourself as a tennis player - who you are out there, and maybe even more importantly, who you're not. In my case, that means I'm not going to spend much time hanging several feet behind the baseline, just trying to outsteady my opponents.
At the same time, coming forward frequently is not a game plan based on hitting winners. All-court tennis is about hitting smart, forcing shots that compel opponents to feel they must try big shots to win points. For many of the pros we seeing playing on TV, that means repeatedly striking hard, deep groundstrokes.
But my belief is that it's extremely hard for recreational players to master the techniques necessary for playing this way. I'm also not a big believer in using the grips and stroke production techniques used by today's pros. They're very hard on the body. Consider: Do you really think someone who torques his body the way Rafael Nadal does could play tennis his entire life? Even more significantly, it's one thing for a teenager to build those kind of strokes. Adult bodies are nowhere nears as flexible.
It's much easier to build an all-court game based on efficient technique, consistency, smart play from the baseline, coming to the net - and forcing opponents to hit one passing shot after another. One question I ask myself, "If I'm going to lose the point, what part of the court do I want to be on?" For me, the answer is always, "at the net."
It's always important to adapt to what is happening on the court during matches--as the rest of this article shows. But in general I am looking to serve and volley on almost every first serve.
Depending on how my opponent returns, I serve and volley on 75% or so of second serves. And often I'll use more a kicking second serve on a first serve point, trying to get the ball up and out of my opponent's strike zone. This is often more effective against players who can hit hard flat returns, or hard slice returns and get the ball down at your feet on the first volley.
In the return games, I play up close to the baseline. And on second serve returns, depending on the server, I'll usually move well inside. Depending on the first serve, if my opponent plays back, I'm happy to chip and charge, or drive and charge.
And I am attacking virtually every second serve. I might chip the return. I might drive it. Or I might hit a rolling topspin moonball, which can be a tremendous approach shot against the one-handed backhand or against a continental forehand.
You may or may not end up playing these exact percentages, but my advice to aspiring all-court players: make your net game stronger. Under the eye of a smart instructor, beef up your volley technique, overhead, approach shots and other parts of the transition game such as your serve and return.
As you build a strong self-definition of yourself as a tennis player, you come to better understand how you can continue to improve - both your strengths and your weaknesses -- over the course of your entire life. Tennis is a lifetime sport, and all-court tennis is just a wonderful way to enjoy it forever. Now on to that Mission Hills tournament run.
My Preparation
I'm going to start the story with the period two weeks prior to the event. But I also want to strongly stress that you can't hurry your improvement. Cramming doesn't increase performance over the long-term. In other words, aim your competitive goals towards tournaments where you can realistically compete.
Fundamentally, what I was able to accomplish just before and during this tournament was the result of a great many months and hours constantly tinkering with parts of my game. I hope as you prepare for an important competitive event that you take the same approach. Identify which skills - shots, tactics, patterns -- you want to improve. Find an instructor who can give you specific advice on a weekly basis. And then, practice what you've learned - with drills, in practice matches, even in league or tournament matches as you point your way towards the big event.
Then there comes a time when you stop all of that. Two weeks prior to heading to Mission Hills, I made the conscious decision to turn off any thoughts about complicated stroke mechanics. Instead, I boiled my tennis down to two simple goals: visually finding the ball and deciding and committing where I wanted to hit each shot.
The biggest challenge during this lead-up time is not to get into measuring how well I'm playing. I almost want to have a lousy day just so I can practice not getting caught up in all this stuff about results. I'm playing against various levels and playing styles and getting attuned to handling all sorts of ball speeds and spins. Scores are far less important to me than getting a feeling of being fresh, quick, decisive, to really let myself use my athleticism.
The Moment
One very important part of this whole process is to stay in the moment during every shot. That's particularly true for me on approach shots, where I noticed I was often thinking ahead. So I made a strong effort during my practice time to keep my head down all the way through this shot. Over the previous few months I'd also put in time to improve my forehand groundstroke.
Another key part of preparation is having trust in yourself. All too often I see people undermine themselves by looking for ways to make excuses rather than merely open themselves up to honestly assessing their games, working hard to improve and simply enjoying the process of competition.
For me, one big extension of trust is how I manage myself in between points. Over the years, I've created a simple four-step ritual that's quite effective - but one that also takes a lot of practice:
1. | Put the last point behind you by singing a few notes from a song you like - something low-key but engaging. Van Morrison often works for me. |
2. | Take two or three deep, controlled breaths. Even if you've just hit an ace or a big winner, doing this will help you stay grounded and focused. |
3. | Think about your specific strategy for starting the point. Are you going to serve to the backhand in hopes of the ball coming back to your forehand volley? On the service return, where in many ways you're at the mercy of your opponent's delivery, it's a matter of trusting your loose hands and proper reactions. |
4. | A little self-pump comment, such as "let's go." But as with the song, nothing too high-octane. |
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Between points: a little music, a little breathing. |
Last but definitely not least, during these two weeks I regularly spent time visualizing winning this singles title. The vision might only last ten seconds, but just putting that picture in my head was quite helpful. So here we go.
Game Time
My first match at Mission Hills was on a Saturday at 2:00 p.m. I was seeded number two - the highest I'd ever been seeded for a national tournament - and will admit that at some level it felt daunting. But again, my goal was to stay in the moment, to enjoy the process of playing the kind of tennis I know I'm capable of.
Practice on the day of the tournament for me is mostly about watching the ball well and cracking a sweat. On the first day at Mission Hills that took about 45 minutes.
Getting Your Bearings
1st round: Herb Achzenick
We all know how nerve-wracking a first round match can be no matter who you're playing. And so, even though it may have felt artificial, all through the warmup for this match I made sure to keep my eyes down through contact and not look up. Yes, I could tell my opponent was not a top player, but the point here is for me to build the right habits and not get sloppy. I'd rather win 6-2, 6-2 and run the plays I need to run rather than hack my way to a double-bagel. So, for example, he had a slow second serve that I could attack - but I had to really pay attention to my technique.
As it turned out, he made a lot of unforced errors and didn't get too many first serves in. The match was example of what can happen when you put continuous pressure on an opponent. They may go for winner after winner trying to pass and hand you a lot of free points. So I wasn't too tested, but still, it was good to get through the first round. Abel def. Achzenick, 6-0, 6-0.
Keeping the Faith
2nd round: Buddy Jordan
Buddy's a good player with a big serve and powerful groundies. Though he doesn't come in that much, once he's up there he's fairly competent.
The first four games were extremely close. I was coming in as usual, but I missed some easy putaways and just wasn't feeling settled in. There were two voices going on in my head. One was saying, "Relax, he'll miss." And the other said, "Hey, you're the one who's missing."
And this is where the big picture premise of all-court tennis comes into play. This playing style is not about shooting out of the blocks. What you're trying to do is establish a game plan. Give yourself permission to miss balls. There's no need to panic and start trying to force things and overhit.
All-court tennis is a numbers game. The more times you come in, the more times you force opponents to miss passing shots. My belief is that every opponent has only so many passing shots in his bag, and that over time, when things get tight, it's far more advantageous for you to be at the net than your opponent to be back there having to thread the needle. A player who makes a few big passes early is far less likely to do it in the later going or when things get tight.
And early on, Buddy hit some big shots. I'm starting to think about consequence, about the possibility that the seeding committee had things wrong - but then I got back to reminding myself to keep the faith, hang in there, stay faithful to my four-step in-between point ritual and trust in my game.
This is where the beauty of all-court, attacking tennis kicks in. After winning some points with big passes, Buddy started to think he's got to hit the ball harder, bigger, better - and he starts missing. As Tom Stow used to tell me, everyone is human. After those first four games I settled in and things began to click. Abel def. Jordan, 6-2, 6-2
After playing two matches, I was starting to feel that I'd gotten past my nerves. It helped that I've played lots of tournaments, because as we all know, there's no way to replicate the experience of competing in a tournament. You've got to go out there, work through the nerves and if that means taking a few lumps, that's OK. You'll be amazed how much you improve in this department if you play one tournament a month for six months.
Self-Definition Tells The Story
Third round: Marc Mazo (#9 seed)
Marc was the ninth seed. He's an accomplished national clay court player. Though he doesn't have a big weapon, he also doesn't have a weakness. He hits with enough pace that I feel comfortable, but not hard enough to trouble me.
Then again, in the warmup he wasn't missing much and his strokes looked very good. It's tempting here to worry and even panic. But this is where the lessons of self-definition are so important. While of course it's good to know what your opponent can do, you've got to give yourself a chance to use your own tools. Players can look so good in the warmup, but that doesn't necessarily translate into how well they compete.
Smooth as Marc's strokes were, nothing jumped out at me and said, "danger." And with a couple of matches under my belt, I felt I could start out a little faster with a bit more confidence. As you might expect, I just made Marc hit one passing shot after another. It was a matter of playing my game and staying in the moment. Abel def. Mazo 6-1, 6-4
Two Words Tell All
Quarterfinals: Mario Cernousek (#5 seed)
It wouldn't be a tournament if there wasn't an opponent who came along who can just make your life miserable. I'm not talking about a guy who just snaps off big shots left and right. There's almost a kind of fatalism that takes place when you're up against someone that much better than you.
I'm talking about the guy you think you should beat, a player with awkward looking strokes that you just can't read, who kind of bunts the ball in a way so odd it seems to hurt. None of his shots have much spin, pace or shape. But man, can this guy shove the ball around, knock down low returns, throw up great lobs, cover the court--and of course, stay out there all day.
Given that it was 92 degrees that day and we were playing on a slow hardcourt, I knew fitness - mental and physical -- was going to become very important in this match. And as I found after nearly two hours, Mario Cernousek had plenty of gas in his tank.
Concentrating versus these kinds of opponents is difficult. You have to generate all the pace. Sound technique and footwork is paramount. And while the all-court, attacking tennis I like to play is what's required to beat someone who plays this way, it's not easy. Mario was ready for me to attack him, and even though I broke him early in the first set and served it out 6-4, in no way did I feel like I was getting the upper hand.
What's tempting here is to stop playing the ball, to stop moving and instead start thinking things like, "this guy's strokes are awful. I shouldn't ever lose to him." Those kind of comments are a recipe for disaster. You have to respect what he's able to do. You can't just try and hit him off the court because you don't like the way he plays.
The second set became more of a struggle. More and more of Mario's returns were getting down on my feet. I wasn't able to stick as many volleys. In the rallies his balls were bouncing higher, not in a comfortable strike zone for me. And so he breaks me at 4-4 and serves out the set.
I'm frustrated. I'm thinking, "How am I going to beat this guy?" And then, as I'm going to get the balls for the third set, here comes Tommy Tucker, the longstanding tennis director at Mission Hills who I've known for a long time. He boiled it down to two simple words: "Keep working."
What a great insight: Keep working. Stop thinking about how I'm going to win this match and start focusing on playing good tennis, ball by ball, point by point. You can't win the match now, but if you keep working you'll eventually find the solution that lets you compete effectively. You may not win, but you'll know you did the right things.
All too often in these situations people look for that excuse. "He's a pusher." "My forehand deserted me." "I had a bad day." And these reasons keep us from enjoying the sweat and labor that makes this game. Of course you're going to lose matches. Of course there might be good reasons. But when we use these reasons as self-protection, we miss out on growth.
A funny thing happened in the first game of the third set. At 30-30 I hit a serve and the net strap broke. Luckily the court next to ours was open, so we moved courts, and in some ways everything felt a little different to me, getting me slightly out of the rut I'd gotten into when Mario won the second set.
That first game was a long one. I was down at least five break points, but kept the faith in the game plan I'd been building for months leading up to this tournament. I kept telling myself, "Let's keep working. Don't consider any reason to lose."
One point lit the light bulb. Mario hit another good return, and again I wasn't in a good position to hit a putaway volley. So instead of hitting an off-balance volley, I served, took my split step earlier than before and hit an on-balance approach shot.
This is the advantage of being a multi-grip player as we explored in the last article (Click Here.) Here is where all the time I'd put in during practice sessions paid off. When you make yourself repeatedly come to net you face all sorts of balls, spins, paces and situations - in other words, you learn to adjust to the ball in different ways. That's very important in mastering transitional tennis. But you need to practice it a lot rather than get worried about short-term results and the scores of your practice sets.
Back to Mario. I held that first game and started to feel settled. Mario could hit good passing shots, but now I had found a way to neutralize those low tough returns. I was feeling more balanced as I came forward. And this led me naturally to the use of another great all court tactic. I decided the best play versus his passing shot was to hit a drop volley - and I did this literally every time. Then I started to do the same thing on the returns.
Things snowballed. Maybe Mario got tired, or maybe he started to go for more, thinking that's what he was going to have to do if he was actually going to win the match. Meanwhile, I was feeling good attacking, but doing it in a way that utilized my skills to shift the balance of the exchanges in my favor.
As I said earlier, all-court tennis doesn't mean you hit big winners. You do look for the right way to keep opponents off-balance. And against a baseliner like Mario, the drop volley and the drop shot return were extremely helpful. Making him aware of the possibility of the drop shot return in turn made my deep return that much more effective.
This is another asset of all-court tennis: the ability to plant doubt in your opponent's head, to keep him out of his comfort zone. But as with so many shots, you've got to take time to practice it in the months leading up to the tournament, unless your name is John McEnroe.
At the same time, against an opponent like Mario, you must accept that all-court tennis isn't a beauty contest, that in large part these matches are the ones that build confidence and reinforce the value of using the whole court and a variety of subtle tactics. I'll always be grateful to Tommy Tucker. The third set went faster than I could have imagined. Abel def. Cernousek, 6-4, 4-6, 6-1.
Not Getting Ahead
Semifinals: Terry Ehlers (#3 seed)
As we all know, once you've been through a rough match, the next one feels easier no matter who you're playing. Terry and I had played last June in the finals of the Marin Seniors (a Northern California tournament), and while I'd won that match 6-3, 6-3, I was well aware of what a fine player Terry is. He's a very good lefty with a big topspin forehand and a firm slice backhand. His serve can be tricky too.
Still, I felt pretty comfortable, knowing that I just needed to execute well. So there I was, up a set and 5-2, serving for the chance to be in the finals - and yes, I got ahead of myself mentally. I played a sloppy game, missing a first volley, double-faulting.
And then I remembered playing a match on this same court a year earlier versus a really good player, David Nash. What I remembered was to take my time between points, to just think about starting the point rather than trying to force the result. Let's face it: the other guy can come up with the goods sometimes too. But the worst thing you can do is start getting too anxious: What if he hits more good shots? You've just got to let yourself play, let yourself have faith in the skills you've built. I calmed down, made good visual contact with the ball and broke Terry at 15 to the first set, and then I was on my way. Abel def. Ehlers, 6-3, 6-3
For the second time, I was in the finals of a national singles tournament. That felt very good, but of course I wanted more. The last time I'd been in a final I'd been way too amped up, wasn't able to execute well and got beaten by a good opponent.
As I thought about how I was going to approach the final, I remembered a talk I had with Jody Rush, a very accomplished age group player. When Jody was learning the game, his father said to him, "Son, if you never miss an easy shot, you'll be a national champion."
So what's that mean? Well let's think about it. Most of the shots you have to deal with aren't that difficult. If they are, you're playing way out of your league. The problem is that we don't perceive easy shots the right way. We think that an easy ball should be a chance for us to end the point - and so we go for too much and end up missing.
The way I see it, all-court, attacking tennis does not require you playing out of your mind, or finding the zone, or doing something magical. It has to do with simple things like defining yourself as a tennis player, tracking the ball, moving your feet,having faith in your strokes and swings, and exaggerating taking as much time as necessary to execute what we describe as easy shots.
The Human Factor
Final: Hugh Thompson (#1 seed)
My opponent in the finals was Hugh Thomson. It's always important to honestly assess anyone you're about to play. Hugh is an extremely accurate shotmaker, mostly a baseliner but also comfortable at the net when the opportunity presents itself. His game has no significant weaknesses.
But I also knew he wasn't likely to blow me off the court, that I could stay in the match so long as I took the proper amount of time to stay with my shots - to really keep my eye on the ball and not rush through opportunities. That's particularly true in a final. This, after all, was my sixth match of the tournament.
Besides getting a good visual read on every ball, I believe it's very important to get the proper amount of space between your body and the ball - to not be too close or too far.
Since I'd never played Hugh before, the early stages were a matter of probing, of seeing more closely what would work and what wouldn't. Since he hits with a Continental grip, he's more proficient on low balls than high ones, so I knew in the middle of a rally I could roll up a topspin forehand to his forehand and he wouldn't be able to generate as much pace. But most of all, early on I was just trying to get acclimated to his ball speed - and enjoy the whole process.
I broke him at 1-1 in the first set. So naturally I'm excited, starting a little bit of hyper-ventilating, and sure enough, he breaks right back. It's amazing how this game can bounce you right back on your butt. This is where that four-part between point ritual is so helpful in keeping me grounded.
Hugh's accuracy is superb, but I'm moving forward, forcing him to hit one good pas after another. I break him at 4-all. Serving at set point, I came in behind my serve and had to hit three volleys to win the point. And I did.
I broke him early in the second set, but once again, he breaks back. And I'm starting to think, "the hammer's going to fall. This great player is going to turn it around any minute."
But all that kind of internal talk doesn't do much. What matters is what's happening during these points. And good things are happening. I'm serving well - not so much by hitting aces as much as setting up good volleys and establishing effective court positioning. I break Hugh again, and soon he's serving at 3-5. I'm one game away from a national title! Wait a second. Calm down. I tell myself that I want to serve out the match, that it's fine if Hugh holds here. Relax. So after he held, I served for the title.
Invariably, that final game was rough. I was down 15-30, then a couple of break points, and Hugh fought off two match points. On match point number three, I once again knew it was vital to do nothing fancy. I spun a serve deep to Hugh's backhand. He hit a nice hard crosscourt return to my backhand volley, which I volleyed deep back to where he came from. There I am, at the net, waiting to see what Hugh's going to do.
And he just hit his passing shot right into the middle of the net. It wasn't an outrageous point, wasn't the kind of shot you see on SportsCenter - just a garden variety serve, return, volley and a missed passing shot. In large part, I felt that the cumulative impact of me constantly coming forward was what made that shot difficult for Hugh. Abel def. Thomson, 6-4, 6-4.
A Summary Reflecting on what happened at Mission Hills, I want to summarize a few major points:
1. | This playing style is fun - a great way to build a lifelong appreciation and engagement with tennis. |
2. | There's no magic pill that will help you get better. You've simply got to put in the time. |
3. | In the short term, you may lose to people you've probably beaten. So what? What matters most is the skill you'll build that will enable you to enjoy the game over the long-term. |
4. | Make your practice time count. Let's assume you've got seven hours a week for your tennis. Spend one of those hours with a teaching pro who can really help you with this style of play and the techniques you'll need to make it work. Devote time to practice - specific drills. Play singles and doubles. |
5. | Turn down the noise of expectation, of outcome, of results. Instead, through such techniques as the four-step in-between point ritual, focus on process and enjoying the craft of becoming a better player. One of the biggest improvements to my game over the past couple of years has been my ability to stop trying so hard to measure my improvement. I have faith if I put in the necessary practice time on and off the court, my game will get better and I'll end up having more fun out there. |
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