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After my mom’s death I needed to let go and move forward.
My mom passed away in the summer of 1983, and in the fall I was in school at the University of Arkansas. I needed to let go, move forward, and to live my life in my mother’s honor. But it proved to not be so simple.
My emotional rolIer coaster reached a head during an important challenge match against a player I needed to beat to secure a high spot on the roster my freshman year. I broke down crying right there on the court in the middle of the match.
I lost the match and coach Pucci immediately called me in to his office. I had two choices. Toughen up or go home. Period. Coach Pucci’s bedside manner sucked, but his message had the intended effect.
I quickly grew to love my new home. I loved the tennis. I loved my team. Though it took a bit getting used to, team practices were great and I was improving quickly.
Practices were shorter but more intense. Now it was just two players to a court, no waiting in line, no more fed balls, just two grown adults hitting…