Something is happening with my appreciation of tennis.  One perspective is leaving … another is deepening.

For years I’ve picked my favourite players, usually based on whether they’re a nice person, or whether they’re Canadian.  I elevate them to heights unseen, needing them to win.  In the process I turn their opponent into a “thing”, some solid object that’s getting in the way of my hero.

How sad.  How myopic of me.  We’re all marvelous sources of life.  “Where have your eyes been, Bruce?”

A few days ago, I was following the scores of Leylah Fernandez’s match on my phone.  The tournament in Montreal, Canada was not shown on Belgian TV.  There I was, staring at the tiny screen, waiting for the numbers to change.  Hypnotized.

During the hour of glazed eyes, I never woke up to the sadness of my action.  A day later, I did.

I thought once again about a sweet book: The Inner Game of Tennis, written by Timothy Gallwey. A fresh perspective revisited.

Here’s my favourite quote from Timothy:

Once one recognizes the value of having difficult obstacles to overcome, it is a simple matter to see the true benefit that can be gained from competitive sports.

In tennis who is it that provides a person with the obstacles he needs in order to experience his highest limits? His opponent, of course!

Then is your opponent a friend or an enemy? He is a friend to the extent that he does his best to make things difficult for you. Only by playing the role of your enemy does he become your true friend. Only by competing with you does he in fact cooperate!

In this use of competition, it is the duty of your opponent to create the greatest possible difficulties for you, just as it is yours to try to create obstacles for him. Only by doing this do you give each other the opportunity to find out to what heights each can rise.

Thank you, Timothy. What if it doesn’t matter who wins the match? What if a 6-0, 6-0 win (or loss) puts the fans to sleep? What if my opponent stretches me beyond what I’ve known by the brilliance of his strokes? What if I discover something “beyond” while watching an epic struggle between two evenly matched players?

That makes me smile