Lessons in Tennis and the Courage to Begin
Lessons in Tennis and the Courage to Begin
This column is dedicated to Pamela, who began this journey in California with equal parts courage and curiosity. More recently, Deniz, Nerrisa, Phoebe, Isaac, Bilal, Sally and many from our Sunday group have unmistakably caught the tennis bug.
Their journeys are proof that starting late is not a liability — it is simply a different beginning.
Every January, during the Australian Open, something stirs. Living rooms fall quiet as viewers watch impossibly fit athletes like Carlos Alcaraz and Aryna Sabalenka glide across the court with elastic grace. They slide into corners, uncoil into backhands, and land lightly after serves that rocket past their opponents.
From couches and kitchen benches, a familiar thought surfaces: I want to try that. And each year, many do.
Across Sydney, clubs report a surge in adult beginners during Grand Slam season. Some are returning to a sport they left behind in their teens. Others are finally exploring something they always meant to try but postponed while building careers, raising children, or managing the thousand small obligations of adult life. Many are simply looking for something that feels alive — a way to move better, compete again, and test themselves in a new arena.
People can start at any age. But adults need a different roadmap.
Lesson 1: The Humbling First Hit
The first lesson arrives quickly. The humbling first hit is rarely about blistering forehands or highlight-reel winners. It is about movement. That elusive first step toward the ball. Movements that feel awkward, even slightly absurd at first.
Adult players often assume their problem lies in their strokes. They tinker with grips and backswing shapes. Yet more often the issue is balance and coordination. As bodies age, the small rapid adjustment steps that juniors perform effortlessly become harder to organize. Instead of adjusting, players reach. They lunge. They slap at the ball from unstable positions and blame their technique.
But when balance improves — even slightly — everything changes. The ball seems slower. Contact feels cleaner. The game becomes less frantic. It isn’t glamorous progress, but it is real. Stability, more than style, is the foundation.
Lesson 2: The Fear of Looking Bad
Adults carry an awareness that juniors don’t. They know they are not invincible. They know a calf can tighten, a shoulder can ache. They know others are watching. And they dislike appearing foolish.
That awareness creeps in under pressure. The arm tightens. The swing shortens. The intention shifts from playing freely to simply not missing. Matches are lost not to superior opponents, but to self-protection.
Here, improvement becomes less about mechanics and more about mindset. Learning to regulate breathing, focus attention, and quiet internal commentary can unlock performance more quickly than hours of technical drilling. Tennis, especially for late starters, is as neurological and emotional as it is physical.
Lesson 3: Systems Beat Motivation
By the third month, motivation alone is no longer enough. Inspiration fades. Schedules crowd in. This is where systems matter more than excitement. Improvement does not come from grand declarations. It comes from small, repeatable design choices.
Leaving a racquet by the door. Scheduling a weekly hit with a friend. Committing to twenty deliberate minutes instead of waiting for the perfect two-hour window. Tracking consistency rather than wins.
When practice becomes a habit rather than a burst of enthusiasm, progress compounds quietly. Adult beginners who endure are rarely the most naturally gifted. They are the most consistent.
Lesson 4: Fitness Isn’t Optional
Fitness eventually enters the conversation as well. At 22, raw athleticism can mask inefficiencies. At 52, it cannot. Tennis demands repeated bursts of power layered onto an aerobic base. Endurance, acceleration, and resilience become non-negotiable.
Low-intensity conditioning builds the engine. Short explosive drills sharpen it. Balance work refines how force is produced and absorbed. Adult tennis is not about reclaiming youth; it is about building capacity intelligently and sustainably.
Lesson 5: Strategy Over Ego
With time, another shift occurs. The focus moves from ego to strategy. Beginners often believe tennis is about hitting better shots. Experienced players understand it is about making better decisions.
Changing pace at the right moment. Targeting a weakness. Choosing when to approach and when to stay back. In doubles especially, positioning and anticipation often outweigh pure ball striking.
Strategy becomes the great equalizer. A thoughtful 45-year-old can trouble a stronger 25-year-old not by hitting harder, but by thinking better.
Wrap: The Real Reward
And then, almost without noticing, the real reward emerges.
Six months in, no one looks like a Grand Slam champion. But they move better. They sleep more deeply. They compete again. They rediscover the small electricity of improvement.
The fear of looking foolish fades because the pursuit itself becomes compelling. There is a moment — a clean backhand struck on balance, a perfectly timed split step, a serve that leaves the strings with a satisfying crack — when something clicks. It isn’t youth or perfection. It is capability.
No one steps onto a court looking like Roger Federer. Everyone who improves begins the same way: uncertain, slightly awkward, quietly hopeful. Unsteady. Curious. Willing.
And for those who start late, that willingness is more than enough.
Enjoy the journey!
