It’s 3:00, and people are barely starting to leave school after hanging out after the last period of the day outside of school; people are ready to go home, ready to go do whatever, or ready to hang out… some more. Well, that’s what we did anyway, we, being the tennis team and all. Just us four were there during the time — Ben, Pat, Mark, and I — hanging out like we usual do after school, taking visits to the bathroom and drinking fountain, before making way to the tennis courts for the day’s practice, hoping to get into intense shape for this season’s merciless tennis tournament season. Another rather lengthier-than-usual post.

Well, that was over a week ago when I started getting serious and started playing tennis hard. I found out the hard way today that playing hard is not the way to do things. I should’ve known better, any kid worth his own socks would know this — you don’t get what you want by brute force, that should be the last resort. Apparently, I was too imperceptive to see that, what a dumb guy I am. Thinking I can pull off a Federer backhand or an insane Roddick topspin forehand is just plain dumb, yet I believed anyway, and failed. For about 8 days straight, it’s been nothing but unforced errors, unforced errors, and more, unrestricted, unforced forciful errors: Straight into the net, long beyond the baseline, or down into the ground on my side way before even touching the net. How sad, and thus how sad I was at playing tennis with this stupid attitude.

Obviously, I got mad, mad at everything, but had nobody to blame but myself for playing in such a stupid manner. There are only so many levels to try for before reaching your own limit, and I think I found that today: I can’t play hard, or intense, at all. Coach said that straight to my face, and am I ever so glad to hear that from him, now that I’ve come to my senses: I’m no strong guy, I’m no 200 pound muscle man. Tennis is a sport of finesse, a sport of elegance, precision, mental piety, and smart thinking. A sport which separates human brutality from that of human elegance — who am I who tried to turn it into my own sport of brute force rather than clever thinking and finesse. I’m a freaking idiot.

But I’m glad that’s over now, glad to hear it straight to my face that “I’m not meant for playing hard — I’m meant for playing smart, precisely, and with elegance.” There’s no way I’m going to overpower somebody baseline-to-baseline, for it takes the greater person to win a competition by pure grace, smart thinking, and tranquility, rather than plain-out brute force. I need to stop this, right here, right now. And I think I’ll start playing with a whole new attitude toward tennis, because it’s just a game (an activity for those wussies who hate tennis), which one can turn into a fun sport. There’s no way I can turn it into a sport if I perceive it like this.

I should’ve known better than to try to pull off something as retarded as this, but at least there’s no law saying I have to keep up with it. It’s a hard lesson for a hungry monster who fails to learn it quickly, but at least he has 6 months to master it, so in the meantime, let’s play tennis, and walk away together with a smile when you see me defeat that impossible opponent, gracefully.