Feeling over Form
The commonest complaint muttered by players of talent on days when thier play fails to meet their expectations is "My timing is way off today!" What the heck does that mean? What is this magical "timing" thing? If the failure of timing makes A players play like B players, maybe we B-players need to get some timing. I have asked many A-players to explain the phenomenon of timing to me, and generally their response is some variation on "Timing good feels good, timing bad feels bad!" I believe I am beginning to understnd what timing is but first lets consider what it is not;
- it is not some complex sequencing or interval timing of stroke events
- it is not the ability to predict within a few milliseconds when the ball will reach the point of contact
- it is not starting the stroke sequence at just the right moment
- it is not estimation of ball speed, spin or bounce height
- it is not some complex ballet of the feet
The gifted feel their way to victory. They use all of their senses to manage and monitor their strokes, footwork, tempo, timing and how hard to hit the ball. They use their ears to hear the whoosh of the racket as it accelerates, the pop of the ball off the strings, and the chirping of shoe rubber on asphalt. They constantly monitor balance, speed and muscular tension and relaxation. They feel their muscular tension and emotional energy and ride herd over their emotions. They don't count errors, but they know where their balls are landing relative to a handful of unchanging target points. The less-than-talented use their eyes to see what talented players do and their ears to listen to what talented players say. But talented players have no idea how they do the wonderful things they do with racket and ball.
Take "stepping into the ball" for example. I can see that pros will often take a step towards the ball during a groundstroke. If I ask them, they will say that, indeed, they do step into the ball. Yet if I try to do likewise I just throw myself off balance because in truth the stepping into the ball part is incidental to what is really going on with their footwork; they are achieving and maintaining dynamic balance by shifting weight from the back to front foot. They simultaneously fine-tune the timing of the intersection of the ball in flight and the racket in stroke. They also push back off of the front foot to stop the forward rotation of their shoulders and thereby release stored control and spin forces. How do you reliably accomplish all of these disparate goals simultaneously simply by stepping into the ball? You feel it. You feel the soles of your shoes seem to stick and sink into the court surface. You feel your weight forward on the balls of your feet. You feel the burn in your thighs as you keep your legs bent at all times. You feel yourself pushing back against the stroke and the satisfactory "thunk" of the ball as it sinks deeply into the strings.
Unless you are secretly talented, you cannot acheive excellence in this game through osmosis, anology to other sports or devine inspiration. Teaching pros talk in a language you cannot possible understand or encorperate into your game. You must translate thier insights into a language your body understands and can express. You must feel you way to better tennis. (see 'SINS')