- Joined
- Jul 27, 2010
- Messages
- 30,559
I was born in Whittier, CA, but we started moving around with my Dad's work. First to Texas and then to Sacramento area. I liked playing sports, but genetics dictated to me that I would always be short. I started playing tennis at a local court in the late 70's. I wanted to be like Bjorn Borg so badly, it hurt. Silent, methodical and dominant in his time. He was a rangy guy and had a deadly serve and I would never be that. But still, I hit a tennis ball against a wall if no one with which to play and practiced for hours. I grew to be good enough to try out for the tennis team at school, I thought.
We moved to Sacramento metro, where I attended all four years of high school. There was a neighborhood kid named Jon Seco. He wasn't that much bigger than me as a freshman, but he grew larger, stronger and more athletically inclined. He became popular in school while I was on the outside, looking in... We were always extremely competitive with neighborhood football, frisbee throwing, and of course, tennis.
I could never beat him and it drove me nuts. Where I had some confidence before moving there (Sacramento) about trying out for the HS tennis team, I became discouraged because Jon was on the team and I didn't think I was good enough. Anyway, Senior year, Jon was this guy just a little less than 6 ft tall, great looking kid with a tan, and we hadn't played tennis in a while. I could tell he wanted to play a match and beat me again, but I had some other interests at the time and so I was the most relaxed I'd ever been playing him.....and I beat him in a couple of sets. Why did I beat him? I wondered tonight while driving home from work? The previous three years I used strength against strength. I could serve pretty hard, but he could serve harder and with more leverage. I could volley well, but he was normally better and stronger with returns than I. But on this day, I concentrated on just trying to place my shots to make him run. My volleys were almost lobbed at him, and he tried to crush the ball at me...in the net or outside the lines. He grew angrier and angrier, because my tactics had disturbed his game and he increasingly was pissed as I continued to break his serve.
I used his aggression against him. I haven't thought about this in thirty years, but the idea of several losses in a row by the Rams to the 49ers was driving me nuts. The Rams just need to get the Niners off their game. Get them frustrated by making Jimmy G try to beat us with passes outside the numbers. SELL OUT to stop the run and make them play a style of game they don't want to play, and their subpar QB WILL give the ball up. We probably have all thought this, but thought I'd share a personal insight....
We moved to Sacramento metro, where I attended all four years of high school. There was a neighborhood kid named Jon Seco. He wasn't that much bigger than me as a freshman, but he grew larger, stronger and more athletically inclined. He became popular in school while I was on the outside, looking in... We were always extremely competitive with neighborhood football, frisbee throwing, and of course, tennis.
I could never beat him and it drove me nuts. Where I had some confidence before moving there (Sacramento) about trying out for the HS tennis team, I became discouraged because Jon was on the team and I didn't think I was good enough. Anyway, Senior year, Jon was this guy just a little less than 6 ft tall, great looking kid with a tan, and we hadn't played tennis in a while. I could tell he wanted to play a match and beat me again, but I had some other interests at the time and so I was the most relaxed I'd ever been playing him.....and I beat him in a couple of sets. Why did I beat him? I wondered tonight while driving home from work? The previous three years I used strength against strength. I could serve pretty hard, but he could serve harder and with more leverage. I could volley well, but he was normally better and stronger with returns than I. But on this day, I concentrated on just trying to place my shots to make him run. My volleys were almost lobbed at him, and he tried to crush the ball at me...in the net or outside the lines. He grew angrier and angrier, because my tactics had disturbed his game and he increasingly was pissed as I continued to break his serve.
I used his aggression against him. I haven't thought about this in thirty years, but the idea of several losses in a row by the Rams to the 49ers was driving me nuts. The Rams just need to get the Niners off their game. Get them frustrated by making Jimmy G try to beat us with passes outside the numbers. SELL OUT to stop the run and make them play a style of game they don't want to play, and their subpar QB WILL give the ball up. We probably have all thought this, but thought I'd share a personal insight....
