Recreational competition

My first tennis league: three losses and a reason to keep training

I entered my first tennis league while I was still very much a beginner. I wanted to find out where my game stood. As it turned out, several opponents were available to explain.

I lost my first three singles matches. The second defeat was not in straight sets. My first win came in match four.

This is therefore a beginner-league story from someone whose initial contribution was helping other people up the leaderboard.

What I signed up for

The league ran through a start-up’s web app. It had a leaderboard and a challenge system: challenge an opponent, win, and swap positions. At the end of the season, the top eight went into a playoff.

I was also taking lessons and finding coaches who suited me. I wanted to learn to play properly, and competition gave me somewhere to test the game I was developing. Those tests arrived a little earlier than my results suggested was sensible.

The losses felt bad. I had taken on more than I was ready for. But they made me want to keep training, and finally winning felt deeply satisfying.

My first win required a second appointment

That fourth match started at seven on a Saturday morning, on the court at my opponent’s apartment complex. He had booked two hours. We were both new to tennis, at a similar level, and equally keen to compete.

It was hot and humid. The first set went to a tiebreak, which I won, although there was an interruption along the way: I felt a pull in my left shoulder and we stopped for a few moments. My opponent waited patiently and helped me stretch. What stayed with me was his kindness to someone he was trying to beat.

He came back to win the second set 6–3. His set was rather more convincing than mine.

Then our court booking ran out.

One set each, no court time left, and neither of us with a result. The next available slot we could arrange was Monday evening. Apparently, my first league victory was going to need its own weekend itinerary.

A deciding set, two days later

By Monday evening, the conditions had changed: less heat, a lot more wind. We returned to the same court to finish what we had started.

I edged the deciding set 7–5. The match record confirms the final score: 7–6(4), 3–6, 7–5. Both sets I won were close. There was very little comfortable about any of it.

I remember hitting a cross-court forehand winner to finish the match. After three defeats, I finally had a league win. It had taken about three hours of tennis across three days. Efficiency would have to come later.

On the way home, I stopped at a bar for a beer or two. I remember thinking: this is the feeling I want to keep chasing.

An opponent worth meeting again

I have a lot of respect for the person on the other side of the net that weekend. He was a tough opponent, a good sport, and the one who helped arrange the whole thing, including our return to finish the match.

We played each other twice more in later league seasons. On one occasion, we followed the match with food and beers. We had met as two beginners trying to win a tennis match, and became friends through a shared love of playing and competing.

The win is a lovely memory. So is the person I played it against.

Do you have to feel ready?

I can’t give you a universal standard for entering a league. My experience is that entering before I felt accomplished gave me a reason to work, but it also meant accepting some uncomfortable results.

The rules had been explained at the technical meeting before the league started. I understood the arrangements. Finding out how my tennis would hold up was the part that required playing.

There is also a question for yourself: would competing still be worth doing if the first few results were disappointing? For me, the answer turned out to be yes. That doesn’t mean I enjoyed losing.

Give the first season room to be a first season

My own early season was fairly straightforward: play, lose, feel bad, want to train, try again. Eventually, there was a win worth waiting through a weekend for.

My first league didn’t prove I was good at tennis. It revealed how much I cared about getting better. That was a useful discovery, even if the scorelines were not particularly diplomatic about delivering it.

Read the background story for how watching Nadal and hanging out with friends brought me onto court in the first place.