The first-class court general and tactician is the man who not only knows all the technical answers but is also trying to exploit the psychological element to the detriment of his opponent. Such a man is always consciously aware of the logical reply to the shot his opponent plays, and also which sequence of shots of his own will pay off most frequently. He knows that he must wait out all spin shots until they have crossed the top of the bound.
A slice or chop (or even, to a lesser degree, a heavily topped drive) carries all the “devil” with which it has been hit through the air, right on through its bounce to the top of the bound. Until that point, it is almost certain to twist off the racquet face and slide away as an error unless your return stroke is perfectly timed. However, at the top of the bound the spin dies, and as the ball falls it can be hit as easily and surely as if it were the bounce off a flat shot. If you do try to take a spin shot before it reaches the top of the bound, hit it flat and firmly to kill the effect of the spin. Do not chop a chop.
Here are same axioms on the best ways of handling your returns of various strokes:
1. The answer to a chop is a drive.
2. The answer to a drive may be either a drive or a chop a drive for attack, and a chop for defence.
3. The answer to a smash is usually a lob, occasionally a drive or a chop.
4. The answer to a volley is usually a drive, occasionally a lob.
5. The answer to speed is backspin.
6. The answer to backspin is the flat drive.
There are certain mechanical combinations of shots that are sound tactically, provided you do not become so wedded to them that you play them stubbornly every time with no variations:
1. Three drives in a row to the same corner, and then a sharp, slow cross-court to the other side.
2. Four drives from alternate corner to corner, and then the cross-court drop shot.
3. Alternate corner to corner until you decide your opponent is set in the rhythm, and then the slow, straight short shot back to the same side of court as your last shot.
4. First a drop shot, then a lob deep to the opposite side of the court.
5. First a drive, then a chop, then a drive, then a chop, and so forth, with continually varying depth until an error is forced.
These are only a few samples of the sorts of pattern an acute court strategist knows; he’s always ready to try out new and unexpected things also. He watches his opponent make his shot, so he can be prepared to handle whatever spin may be hit at him. Watching the place an opponent’s racquet head meets the ball will always give you the tipoff on the direction in which the ball will bounce. If the ball is hit above the waist, it will bounce in the same direction as the racquet he ad was travelling when it hit and followed through on the ball. On the other hand, if an opponent hits the ball below the waist, the ball will bounce in the opposite direction from that in which the racquet head travels on the follow through.
You should never hit any shot in match play without a definite intention behind it. If you drive, think of driving and of no other type of stroke. Even more important, on that shot think with decision where you will hit the ball, and why. Every shot should be hit to a definite place, in a definite way, for a definite purpose, and not just hit back over the net for no particular reason except to get into your opponent’s court. Make up your mind before you hit the ball that you are going to do one of three things:
1. Attack with this stroke, going out for an aggressive shot, or
2. Manoeuvre your opponent and open his court by playing a medium-pace shot, with a safe margin of error, to the widest reach away from his position, or
3. Defend with this stroke, if you sense you are in difficulty, by playing a slow floating drive or a well-spun slice, to change the tempo and give you time to recover.
Obviously, there are shots other than the ones cited above that you will sometimes use in the situations, but the point is that you must recognize that you are either going to attack, manoeuvre, or defend, and play your shot accordingly without vacillating.
Whichever of these three choices you decide upon, keep in mind the follow-up shot you will use if your opponent returns the ball. Are you going in to the net to win, or will you stay back and work on your opponent’s position further before hitting out for the point? Where will his logical return come, and to what position should you move to be ready to meet it? And when it does come, what type of shot will your next one be?
Unless he is trying for an outright winner, a good player always hits his shot with his next shot in mind, and a really fine court general is usually planning two strokes in advance of the one he is then hitting. As particularized in detail earlier in this chapter, there are several types of baseline rallies that, unless deliberately broken up by one player or the other, will follow an almost invariable pattern.
The most general type is the cross-court exchange to deep court. The one seen most often is the backhand-to-backhand variety. The forehand-to-forehand variety seldom continues for more than three exchanges. To break up either type of cross-court exchange, there are two excellent shots. One is the faster straight shot, paralleling the sideline, into the deep corner. The other is a slow and very sharply angled cross-court shot, which is still in pattern with the exchange, but has very different depth and pace, and possibly has different spin as well.
Another rhythmic pattern you often see is one player hitting cross-court every time, and the other hitting straight returns. This makes both men run back and forth across the back court almost equal distances. To break this up, the man who has been hitting cross-court can insert a slow, high slice down the centre, or straight. The man who has been hitting straight can break up the pattern by hitting a slow, sharply angled drive cross-court. Either of these methods changes the rhythm of the point and is very likely to force an error from the other man.
Obviously, one way to break up any back-court exchange is for either player suddenly to go in to net. However, if the baseline exchanges are carrying good depth, it is a dangerous experiment and usually results in the advancing player being passed, or forced into error, while trying to get up far enough to reach a volley position. It is better to break up the rhythm of these back-court rallies by a change of pace, spin, depth, and direction from the baseline, than it is to risk an ill-considered and improperly prepared advance to the net.
One certain tactical stratagem is to decide what feature of your opponent’s game you will attempt to exploit, and then hop on it at the beginning and never leave it until you are convinced it will not break. It may be his weakness or his strength, but whichever you elect, stay with it until you can see how the picture is working out. If you’re winning with it, keep going the same way as long as the general tide of play is going in your favour. Only when you’re convinced that the method you have selected isn’t going to win for you should you change to something else, but be sure to do so then.
Otherwise, stay with your plan of campaign the whole way. On individual points you often will be forced to change plans, and you must always use enough variety to keep your opponent guessing, but maintain one definite point up on which to centre the pressure you are trying to apply, and do not wander from it. I often see players who seem just to be hitting a tennis ball with no very definite plan behind their play. For a while they hit to their opponent’s forehand and then, for no reason, shift to his backhand. Or they stroll in toward net when they’ve made no proper preparation for an advance. If, behind these changes in play, there were real thought and reason for the shift, I would agree completely with the strategy, but when it’s done without purpose it’s sheer whim, and not strategy. It’s valueless in that case.
Consistent pressure centred on one point, disguised by enough variation to keep your purpose hidden, will produce the best results.
The margin of difference between a champion and a good tournament player is very small. Many times there is no difference in stroke equipment. I know many players with the finest technical games who have never made much of a mark in the tennis world. What is the dividing line between the champion and the merely good player?
It lies in that intangible quality which makes the champion produce his best under pressure, and the other man his worst. I believe that the champion will miss just about as many shots as the second-class man, but he will miss them at different times. The champion seldom misses a shot he should make at a critical moment. His nerve never fails under pressure, whereas the second-class player, good as he is, misses in the pinch when playing the champion, and that’s when it counts the most. It takes years of match play to school a player to make, and not err, when the match hangs on the result of a shot. He must be so completely master of himself and his game that he remains calm and confident, no matter how crucial the situation.
I have always felt that Rudyard KipIing summed up the qualities of a champion as well as it can be done, in his lines from “If”:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the will which says to them: “Hold on.”
Oh, yes! Those lines indeed describe a champion!