The Coaching Job	Browse Other Pages Homepage A Viewpoint on the Game How It Began A Viewpoint on the Game 2 A Viewpoint on the Game 3 Concentration; Practice Condition, Physical and Mental Keep Your Eye on the Ball Footwork and Weight Control Women's Tennis The Grips The Service The Drive The Chop and the Slice The Volley The Subtle Shots Courage Your Opponent's Weaknesses General Tactics Outside Conditions Pressure on Your Opponent Doubles and Mixed Doubles The Coaching Job Legendary Tennis Players Olympic Tennis Does Youth Rule Tennis Hall of Fame Amateurism to Open Tennis Some Defects in Tennis Doping Olympic Review Technology and Sport The Slice Service Flat Serve The American Twist The Drive The Backhand Drive Drive - The Main Uses The Volley Net Position The Volley Position The Overhead Smash The Half-Volley The Drop Shot The Mechanics of the Slice The Main Uses of a Slice The Grips Doubles and Mixed Doubles To Open the Court Doubles In Europe and US Legendary Tennis Players (1940's) Questions in Australian Tennis History of Australian Tennis History of Australian Tennis 2 History of Australian Tennis Players Women's Tennis in Australia Australian Tennis: Nature Ages of Tennis Players The Careers of Women Players
	One hears a great deal about the proper attitude of the public toward learning, but it is seldom that anyone says very much about what the teacher's approach to his job should be. It seems to me that the success or failure of many pupils rests at least as much in the hands of the teacher as in themselves. Teaching tennis is not an easy job if you want to get results, and anybody who thinks it is has my full permission to try it out for a while. It is hard, serious work, physically, mentally, and nervously, if a person is conscientious about it and gives of his best all the time. Unfortunately, there are no requirements for becoming a tennis professional. All it seems to take is a tennis racquet, tennis clothes, and a desire to make a living. I believe a good teacher must be able to play at least well enough to give any of his pupils practice. He does not have to be a champion, or even a first-rate player, but he does have to be able to play well enough to demonstrate the strokes to his pupils, and then be able to keep the ball going so they can practise. What must a really good coach be able to do? 1. He must have a complete knowledge of the mechanics of any shot he coaches. 2. He must be able to explain it lucidly. 3. He must be able to demonstrate its execution. 4. He must have the patience to go over the same thing any number of times, until it is learned. 5. He must have enthusiasm for his job, because only by that can he keep his pupil's interest. If he is bored or uninterested in his work, it gets over at once to the pupil, who immediately lets down. 6. He must have sufficient personal interest in his pupils to treat each one as an individual. I think many coaches make the mistake of attempting to make every person play the same way. This is wrong. Each pupil is an individual problem to be handled slightly differently. The foundations of technique must be taught the same to all, but the expression of those fundamentals should and will vary slightly with each person. 7. He must be able to make the science of the game reach and appeal to the mind of the pupil, so that the pupil will know the why, as well as the how, of the technique. If he fails, all he gets out of the pupil is a bad imitation of his own game, with nothing behind it. 8. He must always give full value for his pay, not only in time but in effort. Only by this can he hope to keep his pupil's enthusiasm and continued patronage. He cannot afford to be late for appointments or cancel them without good cause. On the other hand, he must hold his pupil up to the same standard, otherwise he cannot command the pupil's respect. 9. He must be ready and willing to answer questions on the game, because nothing is healthier for a pupil than the curiosity that prompts them. If the coach is too busy or too lazy to answer, the pupil's interest will again waver, and once more a valuable asset is lost. 10. He must get results as fast as is consistent with solidity, and when the time comes for a pupil to go on his own for a while, tell him so frankly rather than keep him dangling on. The greatest advertisement in the world for a coach is a player who goes out and says, "See what I learned in ten lessons," if he has really improved. It's much better than the pupil who never gets anywhere in fifty hours, even if the latter paid more. The most important quality a coach can have is the ability to keep the interest of his pupils in learning the game. I have had the pleasure of working with many famous people in various artistic activities, and I found that my greatest asset was the fact that I could usually translate the thing about tennis I was trying to get over to them, into terms of their own work. At once they had an added interest in the game. They began to think about it and analyse it themselves, and there was immediately established a sort of partnership between us. We no longer had a pupil-teacher relationship, but rather that of a couple of people attempting to work out a problem together. I had one sort of special knowledge that I contributed, but they also were working with me. Once you appeal to a person's intellect, he feels an equality of effort that will make both his job and yours much easier. I believe that the only way to get satisfactory results is to be completely frank with a new pupil. I always ask a person at the first lesson how much tennis he has played, and just what he wants done. If he is a complete beginner, I tell him frankly it will take at least twenty lessons before he has enough of a game to start to play. I also tell him that it will be about six months before he reaches a point where he gets much real fun out of playing, but that is variable and depends largely on his efforts during those first lessons. I figure that during those first twenty lessons I can teach him to hit a service and forehand into court with regularity, and give him a reasonable start on a backhand. Anyone who promises quicker results is either an optimist, a miracle worker, or a liar. I urge the pupil to pick a time when he can concentrate on learning tennis, and not spread his time out. I want to get at least three, and preferably five, days in succession, to lay the foundation of forehand and service, which I teach in that order. This is because the physical groove of the stroke can be set only by daily use in its early stages. After the groove is fairly well set, then twice or three times a week will do, but I am convinced that one lesson a week is money thrown away. I am certain that the more intensive the work-daily is best-for the twenty hours, the better. It will pay the biggest dividends. Personally I do not want one of my pupils to attempt to play or practise alone, without my supervision during the first ten hours, because the groove of the strokes is not set. In his keenness to win or to play well, he sacrifices form to result, and destroys most of the constructive work we've done together. For the first five days, I will not allow him to run or move over one or two steps for a ball, since to do so upsets footwork and body control. Once I have managed to bring a pupil to the point where he can begin to move to forehand and backhand shots in succession, and can put at least 50 per cent of service in play, I advise him to play other people all he can. I am apt to suggest that he stop lessons for a month, and then come back to me again to be checked and corrected on what has developed during that month of play. I feel that all beginners need to gain a sense of self-sufficiency, and not rely too greatly on a coach. At the same time, they must go back for repairs, or they will probably throw away most of the game they originally learned, since it has only partly jelled and must be solidified again. I believe that a coach should be completely frank and truthful with a pupil about his progress or lack of it. I see many coaches who have nothing but praise for pupils who actually need a good bawling out. They are not giving value, in my opinion. On the other hand, there is the coach who never has anything to offer but criticsm. This is even worse, for it has the definite effect of destroying the morale and confidence of the pupil. This is particularly true with children, who need encouragement and praise if it's due, and they know it's sincere. I do not hesitate to praise, but also I will not stand for lack of effort. The only thing that no coach should allow is half-hearted effort and attention. Much as I appreciate the value of the money that would have come to me, I have several times sent pupils away and refused to coach them again until they had reached the conclusion that they would really work. A few never did come back, but in most cases they returned soon and with an attitude that made progress really rapid. Coaching beginners will always present a tremendous psychological problem to the coach. Almost all beginners are very self-conscious and the first great hurdle lies there. The coach must find some way in which to draw the pupil out of himself so far that self becomes quite secondary to hitting the ball. I usually spend a few minutes talking about tennis, then try to find out what other games the pupil plays. If possible, I translate what I am attempting to teach in tennis into terms of the other sport. I take up the grip and the swing of the racquet, with the correct footwork stressed. I get the pupil to go through the shot "in shadow" without the ball, try to get a bit of a laugh out of it somewhere, and then set a ball in front of him and tell him to hit me. For some reason I think I will not explore too deeply, this seems to strike a responsive chord, and the pupil forgets himself enough to take a real swipe at the ball. If he hits it, which he usually does if he has listened to instructions, the satisfaction more than makes up for any self-consciousness, and we're off to learn tennis. The grind is during the first few days when you must continually correct the fundamentals, particularly that of keeping the eye on the ball. You must catch these errors of eye or foot or slow backswing every time, not just now and then. To do it without irritating the pupil, or depressing or confusing him, often presents a problem. I have found that kidding gets the best results. I am apt to enquire, "Who's your friend up in the tree?" when he looks up, or "I appreciate the compliment but don't look at me," when his eye wanders. Once you have brought the beginner to where the form of the shot approaches something that looks pretty sound, then your problem is to get control by stabilizing the swing. To do this you must make the pupil play the shot over and over and over. This is, naturally, a more or less boring proceeding, particularly to the average youngster, yet it is absolutely necessary. I always get around some of the monotony by making a game out of it. I "play" them one hundred shots at a time. They "win" all their good ones, I "win" all they miss. I never return a ball, just set it once in front of them from across the net: first one hundred forehands, then one hundred backhands, and I end with one hundred services. When they get to the point where they can hit better than 70 per cent of them in, I get them to try it out at different speeds and in different directions. I call 60 per cent to 70 per cent Fair 70 per cent to 80 per cent Good 80 per cent to 90 per cent Excellent Over 90 per cent Super You would be surprised how interested a pupil becomes in bettering his record, and what remarkable results you can get once that interest is caught. My next step is to go back to the baseline and see how many times we can keep a ball going from the back court without missing. After he gets reasonable control anywhere in the whole court, I then make it forehands only, or backhands only. The next step is forehand cross-courts only, then forehand straight shots. That is followed by the same routine on the backhand. As you can see, this type of practice is all to establish control, and is getting into a fair class of tennis. 10 in a row is fair 20 in a row is good 30 in a row is excellent 50 is super It is far more difficult to use this kind of practice for the net game, but the net game is for advanced players so the problem of holding attention is not so pressing an issue. When you come to the matter of coaching more advanced players, your problem is a very different one. Here it is largely a matter of having it understood who is the teacher. I have had many fair tennis players come to me and say they wanted lessons, that this or that in their game needed work, and God only knows it did, but as soon as I set out to do the necessary work on it, they began to teach me. The only way I have successfully coped with that particularly irritating specimen of tennis nut was to play a match, pick on the weakness, and break it up so utterly that even the owner of it could not doubt it. Then, perhaps, he would listen to reason. If that doesn't work, give it up as a bad job; nothing can be done. When a player is tuning up for a tournament, a coach should find out what particular shot or shots he wants to practise, or against what type game, and then play him, giving him always the type practice he wants without worrying about score or even thinking of the result. You are there, not to prove you can win, but for the sole purpose of tuning up the other player's game, and that is what he is paying you to do. A good coach should never allow personal pride to stand in the way of doing the job he is paid for. If he wants to prove his ability, he should do it some time when he is not taking money for a job. A club professional should always be working to know as many as possible of the club members and their relative abilities. He should try to be in a position to arrange matches at short notice for members who have no game and want one. To do this successfully, he should be able to rate all his players in their proper relative classes. Nothing is more distressing to so me players than to find themselves in a game with players much too good or much too bad for them. It requires tact and judgment to be able to arrange matches, but a pro who can do this well is a great asset to a club and very popular with the membership. The pro should be willing occasionally to "fill in" for fun himself it no fourth is available for doubles and there are three players waiting, but he should not make a practice of it, unless he is paid his regular price per lesson. The professional coach has an important place in the tennis game. He can give much for the money he is paid but I am sure that in addition to that, he should always be willing to give free, without thought of return, all that he can of his knowledge, to any boy or girl of exceptional ability. I know that I am proud of what little I have been able to do to help the tennis game by working for nothing at tennis schools, and sometimes with individuals. Home