Blogging the San Diego Padres… established 1997

My baseball career ended at age 15. Lack of identifiable talent, if you must know. But I did play tennis competitively throughout high school, and I was forever on the cusp of making the varsity squad.

The way the tennis team worked was that in order to move up the ranks, you had to play “challenge” matches against the guys above you. I was usually right at the top of the JV ladder, and I had some skills. Good ground strokes, when I was able to hit them. Good serve, when it was working. I could move around the court fairly well, although I was more comfortable at the baseline than at the net.

My problem was that although there were a lot of things I could do reasonably well on a tennis court at any given time, the chances that I actually would do more than, say, one or two of them well at the same time were pretty remote. I had some talent but no consistency. I could make some real nice plays, but I could blow some real easy ones.

In short, I couldn’t be counted on to get the job done when it mattered. And because I had some talent (being young, I overestimated how much, but that’s another story) it frustrated the heck out of me that “lesser” players were ranked above me. They did not possess the skills that I had, or that I thought I had, and I couldn’t understand how they were able to advance while I didn’t.

My nemesis was a guy named Jon. I constantly played challenge matches against him but never could beat the guy. And for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. I hit my ground strokes harder than he did, my serve was stronger than his, I could cover more court than he could, and even my net game (not a strength for me by any stretch) was at least as good as his.

The only thing Jon had going for him, and it’s a big one, is that he could return almost any shot. He wouldn’t necessarily hit it hard or with a lot of spin, but he would put it in play and usually in a spot he wanted. His entire game was predicated on your making mistakes. And unless you were very good, chances are you would make those mistakes and he’d win with a smile, while you’d walk away muttering under your breath, wondering how he could beat you.

At the time, you’re thinking it’s luck. You can do everything better than he can, and you know it. But when push comes to shove, you can’t get all facets of your game working at the same time, while Jon’s game never varies. He’s consistent. He always executes. He has a plan; it’s not a sexy plan but he nails it every time and you walk away frustrated, every time.

At some point — and it may be years later — you have to acknowledge that even if you’ve got the better individual skills, unless you’re able to harness those and coordinate them all in a manner that allows you to win with consistency, you don’t have the better game. The serve, the ground strokes, the net game — none of that matters if you’re shooting yourself in the proverbial foot with unforced errors. If you routinely fail to execute maneuvers that are necessary to your winning a match and you subsequently lose the match, it’s nobody’s fault but your own. And it’s prideful folly to insist that you are the better player despite all evidence to the contrary.

Even if you are certain that you possess stronger individual skills than your opponent, the inability to use those skills to your advantage is a fatal flaw that needs to be corrected. If you are smarter and more self-aware than I was at age 17 (heaven help you if you aren’t), you should be able to examine your own game with honesty and identify the weak points, then work to address those points so that the next time you meet your opponent, you’ll be better prepared to do battle.

Luck will play a part, of course, because whether we prefer to acknowledge it or not, that is always an element. But anything you can do to help tip the odds in your favor is a good thing. Because the next time you get that chance, you don’t want to walk away until everyone else has fallen. And if you don’t believe that, then why are you even playing?

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Congratulations to the Padres on a great season, and thanks for all the thrills. I have no doubt that next year will be even better. Is it Opening Day yet?