When I came to Florida Southern I was left with a talented team. Skillful players on the court and even better men off. As I arrived and began the process of meeting the players there were freshman who wandered in with parents. Who the hell is this guy that is taking over from the coach who had recruited us? We don’t know anything about him? What’s he like, he doesn’t know why the other coach brought me here or why I chose here. All of this was true. Enter CJ Johnson. A brash, lanky young man from Melbourne. He was your typical American hotshot. Let me digress a moment. If you have ever dealt with teenagers from America and teenagers from across the pond there are a multitude of culture differences. This is not a negative remark to my countryman, just a factual telling of the difference in maturity at a particular age. Okay, back to the story. CJ was what you call, a recruited walk-on. The former coach was interested and so was CJ. There was a family history at Florida Southern as well.
Introductions were made, and small talk had been completed. It was time to let the freshman be freshman and boy were they good at it. The American tradition of going to college has been documented multiple times so there is no need to re-iterate it here. CJ was a hard-core freshman. If there was a party, he was there. Event on campus, he was there. Oh yeah, we have tennis as well. Being from Florida, there is a certain arrogance that goes along with being a player of certain stature. CJ had been one of those Florida players and was anticipating the transition to FSC to be his next step to greatness. Well, the team his freshman year was fairly stacked. The number one player on the roster was ranked as high as number three in the country. The number one doubles team was ranked as high as number one. Getting into the line-up would be hard, if not impossible. The one thing about Florida arrogance is usually it is followed by bravado. Not many players have the capacity to back that up. CJ tried. He did get into six singles matches his freshman year and posted a 5-1 record. Not bad for a walk-on.
His sophomore year was the break out year. To say he was a challenge would be an understatement. He knew he should play, had the bravado to back it up, and had the game to answer the question. His on-court demeanor stated strongly that he was here to win. His game spoke loudly by itself but there were moments his brain screamed from his vocal chords. I learned that when you truly believe something is worth fighting for, you fight, even when you use your good chips. CJ was worth fighting for. I liked the kid and fought the fight necessary to keep him alive on the team. Not for me, for him. I had plenty of bullets to put in for the next round. He needed to be re-packed and given another shot to hit the target. Spring rolled around, and he hit that target. Playing number 5 and 6 he went 12-5 on the season. He was a warrior. There was not a time that he walked on the court and thought he didn’t have a shot at victory. His doubles record wasn’t as stellar at 10-12 but 12 of the 22 matches were at number one and two. Remember, he was a walk-on who had been given a chance.
During his junior year his role shifted a bit. Again, the brain took a break and a massive effort was put forth to let the fight continue on the court. During this time there was also a sense of maturity that began to spring forth. The arrogance was there, but his belief system is what kept him going. This season wasn’t his greatest in singles. We had a return visit from one of the past greats, so CJ got pushed off the singles grid a bit. He still managed to go 4-4 in his limited role but his doubles was spectacular that season. He played number two and three doubles and amassed a 11-5 record. The outstanding part was that he and his partner only lost to one unranked team the entire season. Doubles gave him a partner. This was motivation. A person to outplay, pick up, and get fired up with. This worked well for CJ. His intensity and desire also led to a few funny moments. When you have a weapon, you use it until it’s empty. Sometimes the best weapon misfires. During a competitive match at number three, CJ gave me a smile instead of a brain cramp. You see, CJ had a great kick serve. For you non-tennis types it is a serve that has a lot of top spin and side spin on it and when it hits the courts, it proceeds to bounce off a different direction. CJ had a good one and he used it as a weapon. On this day, at the old courts, which is now George’s Green, it went a bit awry. His second serve was so good that he often used it as his first serve. So, he set up and we all knew what was coming. Except we didn’t. He tossed the ball up, let it settle to its spot, aggressively swung the racket, and bang it was off. Oh yeah, it was off. It was about 20 to 25 feet in the air and cleared the back fence. It was so high that it hit the top facade of the Berry Citrus Building. A serve that was aimed to go about fifty feet went about 100 feet. No worries. His serve was so good and grooved he would nail it on the second attempt. He did. Again, he tossed the ball, let it settle, and aggressively swung the racket up through the motion. This time it was a beauty. Had we been back on the old four courts he may have hit a home run on the softball complex. The ball rocketed off the frame and this time it didn’t hit the building, it cleared it. For the average player there would be trepidation. For CJ, it became a challenge to serve better the next time. He did.
As we headed into CJ’s senior year it was time for change. He joined a fraternity, had direction, and silenced the mouth and free-range brain he had used the first three years. There was talk of law school, possible politics, and some tennis business left to attend to. He was an important part of the singles line-up but did not have the record he wanted. He lost three tight three setters against ranked players, won four of his last five matches, which included beating three ranked players, but only finished with a record of 9-11. Again, his doubles shined. With multiple partners, he played number two doubles and he and his partners defeated seven ranked teams, which led to a 14-8 record. There was no drama, only sheer will to never lose, even when the other player was the better player.
When you coach, you love all your players. Yes, you love them. They mean everything to you, you want the best for them, and sometimes you wish you could crawl in their brains and flip switches. CJ never had the best record, but he definitely had intangibles. He never once believed that he was not going to win a match. He never thought he should be out of the line-up, and he became aware enough to learn from issues so that they wouldn’t be repeated. He tried multiple issues, but never repeated them. That’s called learning. CJ did go onto law school. He graduated and passed the bar. He is a practicing attorney and does magnificent work while practicing near his hometown. He also ran for city council. This fits him perfectly. Although he was not successful, he attacked it with the same tenacity he did his tennis game. CJ was a warrior that I will never forget. We still communicate and whenever I am in the Melbourne area I always go eat at his family’s restaurant. If you are ever in the Melbourne area, make sure you stop in at Memaw’s BBQ. You will not be disappointed. That is the same way I felt about having CJ on the team.
Photo by Andrew Peloso on Unsplash
Photo by Wil Seaman on Unsplash
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