FIT FIRST:You're never too old to take up a racquet, but you'll have to put the groundwork in, as ANGELA RUTTLEDGEfinds when she challenges her nephews to a doubles match.
A TAP-DANCE TEACHER whose class I took when I was 10 or 12 made a comment about me and I overheard it. She said: “One of the late starters, they never last.” She was right. I didn’t last, at tap-dance or drama, Irish dancing, ballet or gymnastics. In time, I moved on to more expensive abandonment – a creative writing class, and a distance learning English degree.
On a dreary November day last year, the guilt of these failures reached critical mass. I would no longer give up on things I dreamed of doing, I would not waste money, and I would start by learning to play tennis.
Last time I watched a tennis match, Andre Agassi was hot stuff, with his cycle shorts and ripped denim. In fact, that was the only reason I watched it. I certainly couldn’t hit a tennis ball. I’d be swiping my racket around in the air while my pal, with her long blond hair and crisp white outfit, energetically walloped balls at me for target practice.
Five months on, and who says I’ve got no staying power? I am coming along just fine with the help of my Croatian tennis coach Robert Bozic. I show up regularly, he gives me the instructions, and I do my best to follow them. It’s intimidating when the cream-of-the-crop kids show up for all-day tennis camp. I think, what the hell am I doing here anyway, what do I hope to achieve?
But Coach doesn’t lose his confidence in my future success, even when I ask him whether Dubrovnik or Zagreb is the capital of Croatia. “Dubrovnik is the size of Malahide, why does everyone think it’s the capital?”
He is patient as we practice my forehand again and again, repeating the mantra “mousey steps, position, looooow, shoulder, spin! Crab steps!” Coach assures me that all the pieces will eventually stick together. I am pleasantly surprised at my own progress: if I do exactly what I’m told then the ball goes over the net.
So far, the “spin” bit is what’s giving me most trouble. Why do we need topspin? To get the ball up and over the net, but back in the right side of the line on the other side. “But don’t blame me,” says Coach. “It’s Bjorn Borg’s fault.” I Google “tennis topspin”. There are video games with imaginary matches between Borg (spinning) and Becker (doing a flat forehand return). Becker loses, obviously. There are even physics papers on the topic.
Bozic says the simple reason I couldn’t play tennis was that I didn’t know the technique. “There is no magic in tennis, not like painting. Any healthy person can learn to play to a reasonably high level.” He offers some evidence. “I taught a 65-year-old man how to play. At the moment I have a client around your age who just started two years ago. He is already really good because he listens, he wants to learn, and he has the right attitude.”
He is into the psychology of people’s approach to sport. If they see it as a challenge, they are more likely to succeed than if they are fearful, complacent or angry.
I suppose people set different challenges for themselves, internal as well as external competitions. In the biscuit box at home there is a photograph with a 1980s hue of my sister and her friend Mary on holidays in Portugal, gorgeous freckled girls in bandeau bikinis with almost red-brown tans. My sister tells me that around that time she would wheel me down to the tennis club in the pram with Mary and the other girls.
My sister didn’t bother much with tennis, although it was good for meeting the boys. She gets her kicks out of solving problems for people: the challenge is to save money on my tax return, even if it means staying up all night, but she will not be swept up in my new enthusiasm for public displays of exertion.
Her old friend Mary, on the other hand, is now vice-captain of Clontarf Lawn Tennis Club (or Oulton, as it’s known). She still looks like she belongs chatting with a gang of girls at the club, an adorable, doll-sized woman. The club’s management is a huge challenge in itself: “We have new members’ night on Thursdays, where an existing member gives the new member a bit of a tour, introduces them around, and they can get a bit of coaching.
“There are lots of competitions, including club championships and Dublin Lawn Tennis Council league teams. There is also a round-robin.” This is a tournament where you can move up the ladder by challenging an opponent on the next rung. You can also move down the ladder if you are beaten. Mary explains: “If you join up for round-robin, people will call you to arrange matches and you will be expected to do the same, so it’s a great way to get into playing regularly.”
At work, another challenge – a colleague has promised to give me a game as soon as I am able (I have a feeling she will politely, gently, whup my ass). My colleague cautions – it’s not all cuddles in the clubhouse. “Watch out for the screamers, folks who get so into their game they shout at themselves, distracting everyone else on the courts.” This is the unproductive anger thing Coach talks about.
She also tells a story about how she and her partner won a hamper in the Christmas doubles tournament – the ladies who got knocked off the top spot haven’t spoken to them since.
Meanwhile, I was at a wedding recently, and an elegant stranger sitting in the next pew was getting text message updates about her son, who was eight, and playing in a tennis match against a 12-year-old. This woman was so excited that after the “Peace be with yous”, she felt she knew us well enough to keep leaning back with the latest score. Righteous maternal pride or challenge by proxy? With this type of rivalry, is it really the sort of environment you want to introduce your children to?
Mary says the kids love tennis, and her son Adam, who is seven, nods in shy agreement. She explains that when they have under-eights matches in Clontarf, all the children start off with two points for taking part. Children’s lessons generally start from age six. Three of my young nephews have started playing tennis and they are amazed when I show up with a racket; the idea of their indoor Auntie Ange getting beginners’ lessons is hard to comprehend.
Cue a reminder to them from me about how fortunate they are to have so many lessons. What an old crank I am! While they are lapping up all the opportunities that pass by, I’m making sneaky little excuses for my failures (all in the past, of course) to appreciate the nature of success. This is, as I am learning, not necessarily in the winning, but the embracing of challenge. Anyway, the suggestion of a game of tennis doubles tickles the nephews, and maybe there is still time to convince them I’m quite up for it, really.
Robert Bozic can be contacted at Westwood Clontarf, Dublin 3, see www.westwood.ie, or tel: 087-0690865.
WHERE TO LEARN AND HOW MUCH WILL IT COST?
You don’t have to be in a tennis club to play, there are pay-as-you-go courts in parks around the country. Check the Parks Tennis website, www.parkstennis.com. Tennis Ireland’s website – www.tennisireland.ie – has a list of clubs nationwide.
See www.clontarfltc.ie for further information about Clontarf Lawn Tennis Club, and the Dublin Lawn Tennis Council, www.dltc.com for information on other lawn tennis clubs in Dublin.
The cost of group lessons varies, from around €70 to €100 for eight to 10 weeks. Private lessons cost about €50 an hour. Tennis club membership can vary significantly in cost; there is often a levy for new members.
If, like me, you can’t name a tennis player younger than Andre Agassi or Pat Cash, then to get back in the game it’s worth looking at the International Tennis Federation (www.itf.com) and ATP World Tour (www.atpworldtour.com) websites.