I had an interesting experience yesterday. I attended a coaches conference at the Weymouth Club, just outside of Boston. I drove 75 miles from Connecticut across Massachusetts early in the morning to get there, and at some point, I left my own world and entered another: the world of wealth and privilege. Now, my own standard of living is pretty high as things go, and granted that the area outside of Boston is one of the richest in the country, I still experienced an undeniable divide in class. The Weymouth Club is a city unto itself, with every goddamn accommodation I could conceive of. I have never been in a facility of that scope before, and I was pretty floored.
At some point during the conference, I began to feel a real sense of pessimism and almost an apathy for, well, the culture surrounding tennis. Because this is what tennis is: a sport of privilege. I mean, I've been able to convince myself otherwise because I'm not really in the tennis loop, so to speak, but at this conference I couldn't escape from it. I didn't belong there, and I didn't know what I was doing there. They brought on a group of kids to demonstrate various drills and exercises, who stayed through the whole conference--rich white kids. Rich, spoiled, privileged white kids. That's exactly what they were, and that really got to me. Now I felt good because I could have beaten most of those kids, specifically the girls, who most likely would be going on to play Division I tennis in the next year or so. But not the boys, and as I watched them go through the on-court portion of conference, I realized how we're not even playing the same sport. All of the resources, instruction, and opportunity that these kids have access to, I never had. They're biggest problem in life is deciding which Ivy League school they're going to commit to. And as a junior, these are the sort of kids that phased me out of of competitive tennis. Because I can't compete with that, even if I'm stronger, fitter, and have natural ability. I went from being one of the top-ranked juniors in New England to being almost irrelevant, and through no fault of my own. One of the best examples I feel, is that as a junior, there was this kid I used to play at tournaments quite often. And I always beat him. I out-foxed him, and sometimes the victories were lopsided. We played over a year later, now at 14 or 15 year of age, and he dominated me. I had no chance. He had become a machine. Years later we played again in high school tennis, and I didn't even win a game--my obsoleteness had come full circle.
This is the dark side of tennis. That without exceptional circumstances, most kids don't stand a chance. And this is one of the greatest shortcomings of tennis in the United States, and I dare say that it has been it's undoing. Because no matter how you dress it up, playing tennis is a privilege. Can't say that about most other sports, and that's why they're successful. That's why they draw kids in. If I have children of my own someday, they won't become tennis players, not unless daddy pulls in a small fortune every year. I'll have them pick up another sport. That's why at my school, where I will be coaching, all of the athletes play football or soccer or basketball. They even prefer to wrestle and play lacrosse now. But frankly, I prefer the blue collar world, and I prefer the people, even if the tennis prospects are bleak. But I still love the sport and I always will.
At some point during the conference, I began to feel a real sense of pessimism and almost an apathy for, well, the culture surrounding tennis. Because this is what tennis is: a sport of privilege. I mean, I've been able to convince myself otherwise because I'm not really in the tennis loop, so to speak, but at this conference I couldn't escape from it. I didn't belong there, and I didn't know what I was doing there. They brought on a group of kids to demonstrate various drills and exercises, who stayed through the whole conference--rich white kids. Rich, spoiled, privileged white kids. That's exactly what they were, and that really got to me. Now I felt good because I could have beaten most of those kids, specifically the girls, who most likely would be going on to play Division I tennis in the next year or so. But not the boys, and as I watched them go through the on-court portion of conference, I realized how we're not even playing the same sport. All of the resources, instruction, and opportunity that these kids have access to, I never had. They're biggest problem in life is deciding which Ivy League school they're going to commit to. And as a junior, these are the sort of kids that phased me out of of competitive tennis. Because I can't compete with that, even if I'm stronger, fitter, and have natural ability. I went from being one of the top-ranked juniors in New England to being almost irrelevant, and through no fault of my own. One of the best examples I feel, is that as a junior, there was this kid I used to play at tournaments quite often. And I always beat him. I out-foxed him, and sometimes the victories were lopsided. We played over a year later, now at 14 or 15 year of age, and he dominated me. I had no chance. He had become a machine. Years later we played again in high school tennis, and I didn't even win a game--my obsoleteness had come full circle.
This is the dark side of tennis. That without exceptional circumstances, most kids don't stand a chance. And this is one of the greatest shortcomings of tennis in the United States, and I dare say that it has been it's undoing. Because no matter how you dress it up, playing tennis is a privilege. Can't say that about most other sports, and that's why they're successful. That's why they draw kids in. If I have children of my own someday, they won't become tennis players, not unless daddy pulls in a small fortune every year. I'll have them pick up another sport. That's why at my school, where I will be coaching, all of the athletes play football or soccer or basketball. They even prefer to wrestle and play lacrosse now. But frankly, I prefer the blue collar world, and I prefer the people, even if the tennis prospects are bleak. But I still love the sport and I always will.