The Art of Lawn Tennis

by William T. Tilden

"How do I know where my opponent is, or how much court I have to hit in?" ask countless beginners.

Remember this: that a tennis court is always the same size, with the net the same height and in the same relation to you at all times, so there is no need to look at it every moment or so to see if it has moved. Only an earthquake can change its position. As to your opponent, it makes little difference about his position, because it is determined by the shot you are striving to return. Where he will be I will strive to explain in my chapter on court position; but his whereabouts are known without looking at him. You are not trying to hit him. You strive to miss him. Therefore, since you must watch what you strive to hit and not follow what you only wish to miss, keep your eye on the ball, and let your opponent take care of himself.

Science has proved that given a tennis ball passing from point A to point B with the receiving player at B, that if the player at B keeps his eye on the ball throughout its full flight his chance of making a good A 1 2 3 4 B ———————————————- return at B is five times as great as if he took his eye off the ball at a point 4, or 4/5 of a second of its flight. Likewise it is ten times as great at B as it is if the eye is removed from the ball at 3, or 3/5 of a second of its flight. Why increase your chances of error by five times or ten times when it is unnecessary?

The average player follows the ball to 4, and then he takes a last look at his opponent to see where he is, and by so doing increases his chance of error five times. He judges the flight of the ball some 10 feet away, and never really sees it again until he has hit it (if he does). A slight deflection caused by the wind or a small misjudgment of curve will certainly mean error. Remembering the 85 percent errors in tennis, I again ask you if it is worth while to take the risk?

There are many other reasons why keeping the eye on the ball is a great aid to the player. It tends to hold his attention so that outside occurrences will not distract. Movements in the gallery are not seen, and stray dogs, that seem to particularly enjoy sleeping in the middle of a tennis court during a hard match, are not seen on their way to their sleeping quarters. Having learned the knack of watching the ball at all times, I felt that nothing would worry me, until three years ago at the American Championships, when I was playing T. R. Pell. A press- camera man eluded the watchful eye of the officials, and unobtrusively seated himself close to our sideline to acquire some action pictures. Pell angled sharply by to my backhand, and I ran at my hardest for the shot, eyes fixed solely on the ball. I hauled off to hit it a mighty drive, which would have probably gone over the backstop, when suddenly I heard a camera click just under me, and the next moment camera, pressman, and tennis player were rolling in a heap all over the court. The pressman got his action picture and a sore foot where I walked on him, and all I got was a sore arm and a ruffled temper. That's why I don't like cameras right under my nose when I play matches, but for all that I still advocate keeping your eye on the ball.

GRIP, FOOTWORK, AND STROKES

Footwork is weight control. It is correct body position for strokes, and out of it all strokes should grow. In explaining the various forms of stroke and footwork I am writing as a right-hand player. Left- handers should simply reverse the feet.

Racquet grip is a very essential part of stroke, because a faulty grip will ruin the finest serving. There is the so-called Western or Californian grip as typified by Maurice E. M'Loughlin, Willis, E. Davis, and, to a slightly modified degree, W. M. Johnston, the American champion. It is a natural grip for a top forehand drive. It is inherently weak for the backhand, as the only natural shot is a chop stroke.

The English grip, with the low wrist on all ground strokes, has proved very successful in the past. Yet the broken line of the arm and hand does not commend itself to me, as any broken line is weak under stress.

The Eastern American grip, which I advocate, is the English grip without the low wrist and broken line. To acquire the forehand grip, hold the racquet with the edge of the frame towards the ground and the face perpendicular, the handle towards the body, and "shake hands" with it, just as if you were greeting a friend. The handle settled comfortably and naturally into the hand, the line of the arm, hand, and racquet are one. The swing brings the racquet head on a line with the arm, and the whole racquet is merely an extension of it.