Emulate the Great but be the Best You!

How many of us sing or have sung in the shower? What about driving down the road and your favorite song is blaring on the radio? Of course you have, and if you are one of those who said you haven’t you are a big fibber or a miserable person. This is how I feel about writing. I don’t know if it has a purpose, is on key, or even if the words are right but it makes me feel good. It is fun getting things out of my head and onto the paper. Whether they are read or ignored really doesn’t matter because it is my therapy. If you enjoy it and get something from it that is outstanding. The whole point of that is that I got a random phone call today from an old college buddy. Wait, I’m not supposed to say old. We were former college teammates. Screw it, we are old but we are still kicking. He just called to say hello and tell me that he has been enjoying my writing. Of course, I poked out my chest and got a smile across my face but it was what he stated that really got me. He and another college player are cancer survivors and have been kicking cancers ass for a few years now. They waged a battle, developed a relationship deeper because of it, and have continued to improve. Keep battling boys, it should be the only way you know.

With that intro into tonight’s player there are actually some similarities. He plays because he loves the game and he developed his game for his enjoyment and not because someone told him to play that way. Let’s talk about Lance Francisco a little this evening. A walk-on who taught himself to play tennis with YouTube. These dadgum kids and their technology is amazing. Think about what we could have learned if we had YouTube when we were kids. Heck, what about just a computer?

Lance came for a visit while he was a senior in high school. He was living in the US but was from the Philippines. He came to FSC with his family and we spoke while watching the guys hammer out shots. He just wanted a shot to be on the team and thought he would benefit from being with better players daily. I didn’t see him play live but I watched videos that he had sent me. His strokes were beautiful and his footwork was impeccable. I had visions of taking him from the walk-on to a collegiate level player. He just needed to get beat up more from better guys and learn the skill of match play. He had the strokes but was weak in the match play department and there is no substitute for this skill. The only way of acquiring this necessary skill is to put yourself in the fire repeatedly until you become so hard you cannot break.

So, what do you do when a kid really wants to be a part of a program, you think you can get something out of him, and his strokes look eerily familiar; of course, you tell him to be here in the fall and you give him a shot. Well, he showed up. He roomed with two other freshmen and the adventure began. He started the fall and immediately got injured. So, he kind of hung out and watched a lot. He also had a problem following the trainers’ advice. He thought that he could handle it through his mom and dad and not utilize the services that were supposedly directing his path at this point. He healed up and we finally got to see him hit. The players immediately thought that he was a clone of Roger Federer. You see, those YouTube videos he watched were of Roger and he copied everything that he did to a T. He even played with the same rackets although they were not the right rackets for him. When I stated that his strokes were perfect I wasn’t kidding. The beauty of the swing was flawless it was the actual production and thought process that was flawed. He could hit the best shots because that was what Roger did. The problem is, none of us are him. We can copy the process but until we have put in the same work we cannot produce the excellence on a repetitive basis. For Lance, this was not important. If Roger played this way that was the way he was going to play.

Needless to say, this didn’t help his potential to get into the top 8 traveling squad. Although he didn’t play much his teammates loved him. It was hard not to like him. He was polite, would do anything with you, and didn’t know how to say no. He loved the game and wanted to be around people who also loved it as well. He floundered around the back side of the lineup but he came out for practice, played his challenge matches, and on occasion there were these glimpses of greatness. There were also injuries. A lot of injuries. We had ankles, shoulder, knee, elbow, more ankles, a few more shoulder issues, and I am sure I have forgotten a few. Nevertheless, he kept coming out and putting in the best effort he could. He didn’t really get the match experience which contributed to him not growing further in the lineup but there was one night of greatness and it is a memory that I will never forget because I saw the true meaning of teammates that night.

It was Spring Break and for a tennis player in college that just means matches. There are no trips to the beach or drunken parties. At least, there are not supposed to be. This particular Spring Break I had made a couple of ruthless days and needed all hands-on deck to get through it. We played a match at home in the morning and then after a quick shower and lunch loaded up in the van and headed towards Melbourne for a late afternoon match. In essence, we were playing a traveling double header. The second match was against another DII foe from the north. Bloomsburg was not going to be our strongest competition so I subbed in some of the lower guys to give them a chance to shine. After jumping out to a quick lead in doubles we made the decision to sub out one more player. The player that had the first dibs on going in the lineup bowed out which meant that Lance was getting his shot. Instantaneously the nerves appeared and he wobbled out to the court to begin. The first set looked like he had never competed a day in his life and he lost the set 3-6. The guys who weren’t playing would give him a cheer and try to keep him pumped up but you could tell he was uncomfortable. As the second set began he started loosening up and Roger began appearing. The opponent’s arrogance also gave Lance a boost and the second set went to Lance 6-3. This is where the magic happened. All the other matches had concluded and we were up 8-0. Lance’s match would determine if it was a clean sweep or not. Now, let’s make a picture of this story. Tennis courts predominantly run north/south. Imagine all of Lance’s teammate sitting on the south bleachers. The opponent’s teammates were in the bleachers on the east side. The other coach and myself had excused ourselves and were hanging back watching the magic that was about to ensue. Since the match was decided the third set would be the infamous super tiebreak. The first to score ten points would win the set and the match. With every point, it felt like a session at the US Open. The lights were on, the atmosphere was electric, and after every point the teammates were hanging off the fences cheering on their respective player. As the tiebreak continued it was hard to tell who was going to crack first. Lance was playing out of his mind and at one point had a match point. Roger disappeared and it was just Lance. He went for it but he just missed. His teammates thought he might have pulled it off and the crowd went wild. He just missed and in the next few points the match went to the opponent. The crowd cheered for both and that was it. The team won 8-1 and Lance won the hearts of his teammates for an amazing performance.

Although Lance lost that night he endeared himself to me and his teammates. He was visually nervous at the outset, visually upset at the conclusion, and in the middle, he cared more than he cared about anything at that moment. This was his opportunity. We were at dinner that evening and he thanked me for the opportunity and told me it was a night that he would never forget. I have never let anybody know until now that I cried after he told me that. You see, I was hard on Lance. I always wanted more, prodded him, potentially tortured him, and he was thanking me for an opportunity that in the end he was defeated. His class will never be forgotten. Lance is a senior this year and still has some growing to do. I know he will figure it out and if he doesn’t know the answer there are some amazing tutorials on YouTube I am sure he can check out.