Now, I’m pretty sure if I had had Tim Gallwey as my trainer, or at least a copy of The Inner Game Of Tennis, that wouldn’t have happened. Not because I didn’t like it or because I was bad, but because my coach didn’t care. I woke up much later, close to the time my parents came to pick me back up. He’d often been late, so I wasn’t surprised. I tried a couple times, then laid down on a bench, waiting for him to show up.
One sunny afternoon, I went to the court and knocked at the door of my trainer’s sheet iron shack.
I’d gotten lessons for a couple months but was completely destroyed in my first tournament. I distinctly remember the day I quit tennis. Listen to the audio of this summary with a free reading.fm account:
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