Wednesday, May 11, 2011

"I want to win state this year."

A young fellow I know recently said "I want to win state this year." He meant this as an individual, not as a team. Easier said than done.  Many states allow lots of kids to say they "won state" each year by having multiple singes and doubles flights.  Fair enough.  I'm not really talking about the three or four doubles "state champs" here, but this post applies with diminishing relevance to any kid who hopes to "win state".

My question for those kids who want to win state is, "Do you want to do what it takes to win state?"

It's easy to say you want to do something, but putting in the work necessary to give yourself a chance to achieve that goal much tougher.  Practicing and training can be tedious at times.  Maybe you'd prefer to spend Saturday nights with your girlfriend instead of practicing.  Who can blame you?  But don't come crying to me when you fail to win state if you don't do everything you can to prepare in the months and years leading up to the tournament.  Talk is cheap.

I italicized "give yourself a chance" in the paragraph above because that's really all you can do.  You cannot do anything that guarantees you will win state.  Very rarely will one person become so much better than all the other kids in a state that they can realistically expect to win state, especially "this year".  It takes many years to distance yourself from the pack.  Most years two or three or four or five kids have a legitimate chance to be the state tennis singles champion.

If you're one of those kids with a legit shot to win state, keep the tournament in perspective.  The tournament only happens once each year, but if we run a thought experiment and play the tournament a hundred different times I think you'll realize that the person who wins one year and those who lose one year may not be the same over all one hundred trials.   The best person entering the tournament may win 60 of those trials, for example, with the second player winning 20 times, the third winning 10, and the fourth and fifth each winning 5 times.  Those numbers are pulled out of thin air, obviously.  The point is that if you win or if you lose this year, keep it in perspective.

If we ran the tournament again the next day, it's likely the results would have been different.

I'm reminded of my own experience as a high school tennis player.  I, too, wanted to win state.  My junior year I almost did, but lost in the finals to a better player.  That better player and I had been frequent practice partners over the previous few years.  I knew I could beat him because I had in the past, as recently as the regionals the week before the tournament.  But I also knew he could beat me because he had beaten me more times than I had beaten him, including the team regionals right before the individual regionals.  Tennis can be that way, can't it.

Anyway, my senior year I was the heavy favorite going into the season.  I was runner-up the previous year and had been the top player in my section my age or younger for four or five years by then.  But as sometimes happens, a very good player moved into our state the fall of my senior year.  In my state we played high school tennis in the spring, so I had a year to practice with this kid.  Or not.  My choice.

The downside to practicing with a competitor is that by practicing with someone you help them get better.  That's tennis.  In this case, the kid was a sophomore and wasn't as good as I was.  That meant that he was at a different place on his learning curve than I was.  My curve was not as steep as his was, which meant that he was going to be getting better faster than I was throughout the year.  Trouble.

But I never thought of it in those terms.  Just like my friend who beat me the year before and my teammate who won the two state titles the two years before that, I was more than happy to practice with younger players.  I wanted to practice with the best players available.  He was available and he was damn good.  The second best junior in my area.  So we practiced together often, probably weekly as I recall.

Luckily I was able to beat him every time we played during that spring season, including in the state championship match.  Timing is everything.  I got him when he was young. He went on to become much better than I did, I think, winning the title a couple of times and playing tennis at Harvard.  I played at a somewhat lesser university (what isn't, huh?).  One of the younger kids that he beat, I think maybe even the next year, went on to achieve a top 20 world ranking.  Again, timing.  That kid was only in 8th grade at the time!!

So you can see how the tennis generations in my state all worked together, though we were fiercely competitive, to get as good as we could.  Not all of my practice partners won state, obviously.  This can't work out for everyone.  Only one guy wins each year.  But I don't think the guys who didn't win regretted practicing with me.  Sure they helped me get better, but they got better, too.

That's the nature of competition.

So if you "want to win state", get off your ass, find the best people you can to compete against, and get after it.  I guarantee the person who wins will have done just that.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Distal Emphasis

In the post below (click) I talk about a coach who told his promising young student to just "hit with more spin" rather than telling the player how to hit with more spin.  This is an example of a coach who emphasizes the distal over the proximal.  The distal aim is to hit a shot with topspin.  A proximal emphasis would focus on the grip necessary to hit topspin, for instance, or on how to achieve more vertical racquet head speed.

It won't always work to only emphasize the distal aim, but if the student achieves the distal aim without the proximal cues, then what the heck is the point of the proximal cues?  I think, but can't go and find them now, that there are studies showing that the less a person explicitly knows about how they perform some skill the less likely the person is to lose that skill (forget how to do it) under pressure.

As I said above, it won't always work to simply say "hit with more spin" or some similar cue.  In those cases a coach will have to figure out a way to help the student "hit with more spin".  But to first focus on the distal aim is the way to go.  Humans are goal oriented and I think that the ultimate goal should be the primary focus of attention, with the proximal bridges crossed when necessary.

Why build a bridge if your student can already fly?

"Hit with more spin."

Is a coach who simply says "Hit with more spin" to a skilled young player failing to instill proper mechanics?

A very good local junior suggested that recently when he said he was glad he found his new coach who is much more technique oriented.  The irony is that the kid is already sixteen years old and has very good technique.  That former coach who "failed" to teach the kid technique got the kid to hit very good topspin groundstrokes, so good that I long ago tabbed him "The Assassin" for his ability to rack up 6-0, 6-0 victories over lesser players.  I used him as an example of a kid who seemed to love to hit shots.  He didn't care if he was playing a pusher or a hack or a good player.  He just seemed to relish the chance to unleash those topspin groundstrokes on ball after ball after ball.  It didn't matter how many of those balls came back.  Each one gave him the chance to unload again.  Well, unload may be a bit strong for a kid who was always the skinniest kid in the field.  By a lot.  But he unloaded himself into the ball with all he had.

Now the kid is still winning, but he's doing it by pushing.  He no longer unloads into his groundstrokes.  In practice he goes big, but since he's taller and stronger now, his hitting window is much smaller so he is prone to making errors, especially since he now hits his big shots pretty flat.  

To make matters worse, since this young man now enthralled with his new technique-oriented coach, his emphasis naturally on technique.  Each mistake he makes, and he makes a bunch in practice, he analyzes some minor element of his take back or something.  So instead of learning how to play with the wonderful strokes he already has, he's fixated on minor, largely irrelevant elements of his strokes.

What a shame that his old coach left town and he hooked up with the new guy.  Bad timing.  I hope it turns out well.

Nash Equilibrium?

OK, so I'm out of my depth, by a lot, just by writing that title.  I saw "A Beautiful Mind" but that doesn't make me an expert on Nash equilibrium or game theory.  Somebody who really knows that stuff can call me out on my posing.  But...

In my last post on stacking of tennis lineups (here), I said once we dump the "strength order" rule, I prefer having coaches specify lineups to the alternative I proposed earlier of random draws for match ups (here).  I think that both rules would result in the same outcome, the random match ups.

Let's say we make a rule that each coach writes down his line up on a line up card and the coaches exchange line up cards before the matches begin, just like baseball coaches exchange line ups with each other and the umpire at home plate before a baseball game begins.  No changes are allowed once the lineups are exchanged.  What order do you place your players?

If the opposing team has placed its players in a predictable order in previous matches, you would place your players in positions that give you the best chance to win.  That's obvious.  But would it make sense for any coach to play a predictable line up in previous matches?  Nope.  So what line up is not predictable?  Only a random one.  Any non-random method of setting the line up opens up the possibility of an opponent figuring out your method and selecting match ups that favor the opponent, not you.

Now it is possible to set traps and so forth, deception being a tried and true way to gain an edge.  A team could use one line up in all its easy matches and then pull the switcheroo for a later match against a big rival.  That could work.  Once.

So the "submitting line ups simultaneously without changes" rule leads to the random pairing of matches.  That's fine with me.

What other rules for revealing line ups might lead to different strategies?

Visiting team reveals position number one first.  Home team submits a match for number one and then reveals number two position.  The visitors submit their number two player and reveal number three, etc.  That might be fun.   I haven't experimented with that one.

A friend and I just tried a rule where one team submits their order of players and the other team gets to match.  But to make it more fair, the first team is allowed some number of switches.  We used three singles and four doubles and allowed one singles and one doubles switch.  That was a hoot.  For NCAA format of three doubles and six singles, a rule with one doubles switch (team or player?) and two singles switches might be fun to try.  This rule really puts the coach, and players if the coach wants their input, to work.  This one could be darn exciting.

Any way, those are my latest thoughts on this.  We need to get a ground swell of coaches and players to get rid of the conflict-inducing "strength order" rule we now have.  That conflict-inducing aspect of the current rule probably needs a post of its own.

Monday, May 09, 2011

Stack Stack Stack

I've written about team tennis lineups before on this blog (see here), but I can't resist ranting again.

As we head into the girls high school championship weekend in Colorado and the NCAA Division III men's and women's draws are being made, this issue of placing players in order of strength naturally arises.  In my previous post (linked above) I think I made the case for random draws of players.  That would solve the bs about coaches stacking and about who plays above whom on each team. There would still be battles to get into the lineup, but there would be no more "How come I'm playing behind Suzie" types of gripes.  Suzie and Molly and Amy would all go in a hat, to be drawn out at random.

I'm not only about reducing conflict, though.  Tennis is fundamentally about conflict so I say let's keep some of that.  I prefer to let coaches arrange their lineups, who plays singles, who plays doubles, with whom and in what order, however they want to.  The coach has an ethical obligation to arrange his players in the manner that gives his team the best chance to win, both in the current match and with an eye toward future matches.  The problem is that currently a rule prohibits this.  Now coaches have an ethical obligation to place their players in the order of strength.  Bad rule.

The "order of strength" can vary a lot.  Perhaps a player is good in practice matches but performs poorly in competition with other teams.  Who is stronger, the player who wins in practice or the player who wins against outside competition?  Perhaps Suzie shows up to the match with a bad attitude, warms up poorly, and appears to be going through the motions.  Is she still the team's number 2 player?  Is the coach doing his duty to put the team in the best position to win if he plays Suzie at number 2 that day?  Is he cheating if he drops her to #3 or #4?  By most rules, he is deemed to be stacking if he moves her down and most rules prohibit any two-spot moves between any two matches.  Bummer for Suzie and her team.

I say remove the rule that creates suspicion and doubt among coaches about the ethics and motivations of each other.  Let's join every other team sport that I know of and let coaches decide who plays and who plays where.  Isn't that a fundamental part of coaching?  Let's embrace that in team tennis.

Wednesday, May 04, 2011

Proximal Distal Emphasis and the UnAcademy

My friend Ken Hammond and I have been discussing the work of Egon Brunswik for years.  Egon Brunswik was a professor of psychology at Berkeley in the 1930s, 40s, and 50s.  Ken knew him back then and has applied Brunswik's ideas to the field of human judgment and decision making.

I bring this up on a "mostly tennis related" blog because a significant failure of tennis coaching is an emphasis on the proximal at the expense of the distal.  So what the heck does that mean?  It means that we teach the means independent of the ends too often.  We teach players what they can see and feel, like the grip, the swing, the flight of the ball, etc, rather than what they cannot see and feel, the ultimate (distal) goal -- winning points and winning matches.

I hope that the Quick Start emphasis on rallying and especially on playing the game of tennis as early as possible will remedy this.  Kids who "take lessons" on how to grip a racquet, how to position their bodies, and how to swing a racquet are focused on the proximal.  Oddly enough, we coaches have a habit of distracting students' attention and get them to focus on the instructor instead of on their own senses of sight, sound, and feel.  We do that by talking way too much ("racquet back",  "watch the ball", "swing", "finish high", etc).  Luckily some kids ignore the coach and just try to hit the ball, but way more kids really try to listen to the coach.  Their attention is therefore not on the feedback their hands and eyes and bodies are providing them.  They are focused too much on the coach.

So that sort of interference from coaches is bad, but what's worse is that I now am really seeing what other people have been saying for many years.  American kids can hit the ball, but they cannot play the game.  What does that mean?  It means they are mastering the proximal skills OK (they hit the ball well enough), but they don't know how to play points and win matches.  The playing points and winning matches are the distal goals that are so often ignored or given short shrift in lessons.


I am tempted to start the UnAcademy.  At the UnAcademy the kids get no proximal instruction and very little distal instruction beyond what the game gives them.  To the extent that the UnAcademy coaches provide feedback, it would be to override the confusing feedback the game itself can provide.  Frequently in tennis, players can play a good point, but lose it.  A coach can intervene and say, "That was a great point.  You just got beat by a good shot."  Or "You did everything right up until you dumped that volley in the net.  Keep it up.  You'll make that shot in the future."

Our UnAcademy coaches will also praise effort.  When we see kids hustling for a ball, sliding on hard courts, etc, we'll be enthusiastic in our praise.  It's tough to give maximum effort all the time.  It's much easier to coast.  So as coaches, we at the UnAcademy will do our best to praise and reward effort.  Players cannot control outcomes, but they can control their effort.

If while giving their all and playing lots of matches, players ask coaches what they can do to improve their games, including improving certain shots, we'll be more than happy to nudge them in the direction of better strategy, tactics, and mechanics.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

QuickStart Tennis

"Have you been to a skate park lately? They're packed. Why? Why are skate parks so crowded and, for the most part, baseball and soccer fields are empty, except for organized activities? The difference is adults. There aren't too many adults hanging out at skate parks, while they line the sidelines of other venues for games and practices. The United States Olympic Committee Athlete Development Department believes the best athletes in the country are at skate parks. Why? There are no coaches. Skate parks are filled with self-motivated athletes. There is no one telling the kids how to do certain tricks. Just kids teaching kids. They will work on something for hours, or even days. They'll figure it out by trial and error. And then they'll get it. They flip the board over once in the air. They celebrate their achievement briefly, and then some other kid will show them how to flip it twice. Then they'll work on that. All without an adult guiding them, telling them what to do, showing them who they are doing it wrong, or getting in their face about not trying hard enough. The kids will even say it's fun. It's fun because they are learning at their own pace,moving, risking, hanging out with friends, challenging one another, laughing and, at the deepest level, playing."

Learn to Rally and Play: Practice Plans and Tips for Coaching Kids Ages 5-17, Third Edition, USTA, p. 14.

I never thought the USTA would have anything useful to say, but that paragraph above is awesome.

Yet I'm tempted to toss the book in the trash. Kids need adult coaches like they need infections. I'm happy to play with kids and share my love of the games with them, but "teaching" them? Ha. They don't need me. They're better off left to themselves like I was. Well, left to myself and left with my friends to play hockey, basketball, baseball, football, tennis, golf, ping pong, badminton, bowling, or whatever the hell else we could think of. I never had any technical instruction in any of those games, with the exception of maybe two or three hockey schools in the summer and some group tennis lessons in the winter. Those were facilities driven as much as anything. And I don't recall any significant technical instruction, certainly nothing very personalized.

I was on some teams that were "coached" if you can call it that. My dad did have some expertise in baseball and probably instructed me a little bit the two years he coached my Little League team (when he wasn't off working, playing golf and living his own life), but mostly I learned how to play every one of those sports with my friends. I'm not an elite performer in any of them, but if you accept slower ball and puck speeds, you'd be hard pressed to tell the difference between my technique and professional technique in any of them. There are minor differences to be sure, but on first approximation I look like a professional in all the games I play. How? Little or no instruction in any of them. So how?

Copying and imitating. I fell in love with sports as a very young child. Through the miracle of television I was able to watch the very best in the world execute those skills. I copied them. Monkey see monkey do. Just like little kids learn pretty much every other motor skill. No coaching. No instruction. Just observing and copying the best. To the best of my knowledge, I never saw people perform sports poorly. Sure my buddies weren't perfect. But they modeled themselves on the best just like I did. We weren't awesome. But we looked like little professionals tossing the baseball and football around, or shooting baskets (on a 7-foot hoop -- I'm sure we looked like idiots on the RARE occasions we shot at 10-foot hoops). We learned from TV, from each other, from older, better siblings, etc. We were not taking lessons, I can assure you.

Frankly I did not enjoy the organized practices with "coaches" (mostly incompetent parents) nearly as much as I enjoyed just playing the damn games with my friends. Those experiences must still exist outside video games, skate parks and half pipes. But finding kids just getting together and enjoying sports is becoming tougher and tougher.

Will QuickStart tennis programs change this? I wish I thought it would. It's better than the stale, technique-oriented lessons we've been doing. But it's still structured. Still adult-centric. I'm skeptical. I'm hopeful, but skeptical. It's better than the status quo, but it's a far cry from kids just getting together to play and learn the game without us old folks looking over their shoulders.