Thoughts about Tennis Tradition...

[glacierguy]

Wow, that's one hell of a recommendation. You had my respect anyway, but I'm still impressed.

[don_budge]

[don_budge]

I wrote a post on my high school website. 50 year reunion hanging in the balance. 2022...I wonder where the world will be in 2022.

You guys have heard it all before. Here's another angle in the workings of the mind of don_budge. Begin transmission below:

I believe that tennis and golf are God's gift to mankind in terms of recreation. It is no coincidence that these two endeavours have been big pursuits of mine in my quest for perfection on this earthly plane. On certain given days I can honestly say that I was perfect. I played to my true potential. I reached that level in tennis more often than I did in golf as I took my first golf lesson at the Dearborn Country Club at the ripe old age of forty. Try being perfect without the guns of youth behind you. It is my greatest challenge...in sports.

The ripe old age of forty. Somehow I became obsessed with that Fyodor Dostoyevsky quote from his epic novel called "The Devils". Truly his greatest work. People tell me that they have read "Crime and Punishment" or "The Brothers Karamazov" and I think to myself, Dostoyevsky wannabe. Read "The Devils" or "The Possessed" or "The Demons" depending upon the translation. One of the main characters gets a chapter in the book devoted to his experience with his sense of the Devil's presence. But the quote, ah yes, the quote. I digress, per usual.

"The second half of a mans life is made up of nothing but the habits he has acquired during the first half."- Fyodor Dostoyevsky

If you consider that the lucky man, or woman, might life to the ripe old age of forty...at forty you are in the locker room of life. Considering a strategy for the second half. After reflecting on the first half. What's the score? I know the score...trust me. I spent a lifetime exploring that question, what is the score? It's a good question. Don't you think so? But anyways, the point is, there is always a point although most of the time cleverly disguised, I quit tennis and put it in the rear view mirror and began to pursue golf at the precise moment that the worm turned from the first half of life to the second. In hindsight, I think that was pretty clever of me. Although perhaps it wasn't so conscious. Or was it? Coincidence or chance? Destiny or a crap shoot? Fate or chaos?

But here's my point, if I really have one and I am not just putting on airs, God's gift to mankind in terms of recreation. Tennis and golf are disciplines. Esoteric arts as it is. Esoteric as in, intended for or likely to be understood by only a small number of people with a specialized knowledge or interest. That's me. The earth is a ball. A ball in the game. In the game of Life. The only game where the object of the game is to learn the rules. Am I making any sense at all? This is one of the easier subjects that I am going to address, by the way. The one below..."The Shaman's Doorway" is next up. That is going to be a bit more complicated.

In or around 1976 I read in "Psychology Today" a psychological profile of the two games. Hang on to your seats. Your hats. This is serious stuff. Tennis is a game where the two opponents are symbolically trying to castrate each other. The racquets represent rapiers and the balls represent the players testicles and the two go at it as if they are trying to disengage each other from their balls. Ouch! And it is true. The higher you go in the game the truer this becomes. I can tell you. From the time you introduce yourself at the beginning of the match, and we used to ironically start it off with a handshake before we got down to the dirty business of trying to "castrate" each other. You get a whiff of your opponent and you are already sizing him up. Assessing with every sense in your being at your disposal...where is his weaknesses that you will endeavour to exploit him at every given opportunity. Where can I nick away at him. Drawing some blood. Weakening his resistance. Where are the strengths where you must respect him but not be afraid of attacking as well. He is bound to get some shots in that you must absorb. Stemming the flow. It's pretty damn visceral, I can attest to that. I remember feeling really good after a match if I could say to myself...I made him wish his mother never had him. Maybe it was Jimmy Connors that said that. I cannot remember. Looking back I think it pretty amusing, pretty funny, that I had such a good time all my life pursuing this game to perfection. Serious stuff. Lessons to be learned. Enough said. It wasn't always pretty.

Golf is an entirely different matter. According to "Psychology Today" back in the day of 1976, when there actually were magazines...golf is a game where the contestant is trying to avoid committing suicide. Man against the golf course. What a paradox. No opponent. Just an obstacle course with a little hole at the end. Being so fortunate as to being a student of both art forms and a teacher as well, I cannot help but admire the irony and the diversity of both games as well as their similarities. When teaching either, I always point out to the student the attributes of the other game. I like to say that tennis is...golf on the run. But this business of trying to avoid committing suicide is just downright diabolical. Coincidentally, several of the characters in "The Devils" either commit suicide or contemplate it and the ramifications of it. But as any golfer knows, you have to play all eighteen holes. It's a journey much as life is. I found that I was very aware of this suicide notion and I am glad that I was forty when I started to embark on the path to "avoid committing suicide" as it may just make for a gentler landing in the end. At the end of the night. Plus, there is no telling how I would have reacted when I was younger and full of notions of perfection. The anger. I digress again...fooey.

So as you progress in the game, you might just string a few pars in a row and think to yourself, "boy, isn't this great?" Well, no sooner does that little thought enter your noodle, you find yourself quadruple bogeying the next hole. Quickly the blood begins to boil. Ok...you start again. Over and over you fail, until one day you reach hole number ten and you are even par after nine. Half way home. Guess what...a triple bogey followed by a train of bogeys. The dreaded bogey train. Once more...derailed. Sitting in your car after the end of the aborted mission on the golf course, the thoughts start to drift to the barn and the rafter where you get a rope and...you get the picture. Ah...getting closer though. So thirty rounds down the road you are standing on the tee at seventeen at one under par and you are thinking fatal thoughts. You cannot help yourself. You are human and it is the human condition. If I can just make two pars in a row I am in at one under. My God...guess what. Bogey...bogey. Fuck! The elusive even par round is tantalisingly just out of reach. You can almost taste it. You get the picture. Golf is like that. Sure it is.

So just a couple of more things. Regards the letter of recommendation that is the subject of this little story. It is dated post summer of '73. I spent two summers at the Don Budge Tennis Camp and as a result the man himself, Don Budge, blessed me with this momento of my checkered past. I'm laughing at myself. A glorious experience to be in the company of such a profound and great gentleman. Mr. Budge was the first man to win the "Grand Slam" of tennis. Winning the four major titles in 1937 at the U. S. Open, Wimbledon, the French Open and the Australian Open. I believe that he actually traveled by boat to accomplish this. A beautiful man, every day he came dressed in all white tennis clothes looking like some immaculate blast out of the past and you never would have thought him capable, from observing him, that he might be capable of castrating a fellow human being. You never know what lurks below. That's all I can say. My alter ego just happens to be don_budge and he is a prolific writer of tennis and other things on the website tennisplayer.net. I will never forget Don Budge and how kind he was to the somewhat wild kid from Dearborn, Michigan. He took me under his wing. Taught me to fly.

One last thing. It's always one last thing isn't it, that somehow turns into two or three or who knows how many last things. What does GOLF mean? You are just going to absolutely love this little pearl. GOLF means...it's an acronym. It means...Gentlemen Only Ladies Forbidden. It's a very old Scottish game and women were not allowed in the clubhouse for a very long time. I wouldn't be surprised if there is a golf course that still abides to this sort of thing. What's the harm? Boys just want to have fun! Commence fire but just remember. I am only the messenger.

[don_budge]

Sunny and 42 Fahrenheit...one more shot!

Well the weather being what it is...fickle like all of my ex-girlfriends. Married twice now and divorced 17 times. But anyways...had a nice chat with an older Swedish fellow who just happened to walk by the range where I was the only one practicing. Like it has been for the last four weeks since the course closed for regular play. I collected approximately 60 range balls a few weeks ago in a bucket. So I find a dry area out on the range...when I say dry it isn't really dry. It is just less wet. The area is long enough where I can hit pitching wedges, 9 and 8 irons. Forty of fifty swings. I take a dozen ProV1's (Titleist golf ball) and hit them in one direction, go collect them and hit them back again. Repeat two or three times. But the balls that I collected on the range I put in a bucket and go back to the tees on the range where there are some mats still outside to hit off of. I hit these balls with my driver or 3-wood after I am done with the irons. I hit them all out into a area in the range that is dry enough to go and collect them next time I go to the club. Get it? I am not sure if I have captured the picture. The point is...I think like Tiger Woods. The competition is done with the golf for the winter. I am still trying to iron out the friction in the swing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V8nZeZ2xCtc

A superb explanation of the left arm. Arm against the ped muscle...figure 7...rolling the left arm over. I worked it out for several days in the living room while my wife protested against me swinging in the house. Took the ideas out to the range. Very, very interesting results. It's not like you can go and play indoor golf although I understand that there is some new facility where you can actually play against a screen with a computer generated course in town. I am going to check it out.

Ah...so simple. Using the left arm as a left handed backhand. Gee...I can do that. The right side is hitting a right handed forehand...or throwing underhanded. Gee...I can do that too. It's an easy game! Not! This idea of the figure seven is a very good one for a tennis backhand thought. Anybody? Nobody? Very few survivors left on the forum these days. That's ok. Last one out please shut out the light.

[don_budge]

Sunny and 42 Fahrenheit...one more shot!

Well the weather being what it is...fickle like all of my ex-girlfriends. Married twice now and divorced 17 times. But anyways...had a nice chat with an older Swedish fellow who just happened to walk by the range where I was the only one practicing. Like it has been for the last four weeks since the course closed for regular play. I collected approximately 60 range balls a few weeks ago in a bucket. So I find a dry area out on the range...when I say dry it isn't really dry. It is just less wet. The area is long enough where I can hit pitching wedges, 9 and 8 irons. Forty of fifty swings. I take a dozen ProV1's (Titleist golf ball) and hit them in one direction, go collect them and hit them back again. Repeat two or three times. But the balls that I collected on the range I put in a bucket and go back to the tees on the range where there are some mats still outside to hit off of. I hit these balls with my driver or 3-wood after I am done with the irons. I hit them all out into a area in the range that is dry enough to go and collect them next time I go to the club. Get it? I am not sure if I have captured the picture. The point is...I think like Tiger Woods. The competition is done with the golf for the winter. I am still trying to iron out the friction in the swing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V8nZeZ2xCtc

A superb explanation of the left arm. Arm against the ped muscle...figure 7...rolling the left arm over. I worked it out for several days in the living room while my wife protested against me swinging in the house. Took the ideas out to the range. Very, very interesting results. It's not like you can go and play indoor golf although I understand that there is some new facility where you can actually play against a screen with a computer generated course in town. I am going to check it out.

[don_budge]

Tiger Woods...nobody is going to outwork me.

"It was a crappy day for golf. It was windy, chilly and drizzling...one day long ago. A young Tiger Woods stood alone on the driving range tee of some unknown golf course pounding monstrous drives and he paused and thought to himself, "Nobody is going to outwork me! I hope my competition is home, warm and comfortable, watching TV and playing computer games." He wore a hardened, resolute look on his face as he confidently strode to the putting green to resume practicing the delicate art of scoring, it was tedious work, chipping and putting...in the in-climate, shitty weather. He was hungry, tired and cold. He was, however, on a mission." -don_budge

I made this up…but it could have been.

The weather has taken a turn. The season is probably over in all forms. I persevered to the very end and now transition from the golf course and practice range to the exercise program. Nobody will outwork me.

[don_budge]

But most of all...thanks John. Thanks for everything. Would love to meet you someday.

[don_budge]

DB,I made a decision to drop all politics from the board. Last one pls.

As I have said twice now...I respect your wishes. Out of respect for you. I know that you and I may not share the same political point of view I don't take that in the least personal. I understand how destructive the political opposition has become in America. I hadn't been back in the USA for over ten years when I returned in 2015 in the lead up to the Presidential election of 2016 and I was completely shocked by what I found waiting for me. The country had completely transformed from the one that I left on New Year's 2004/2005.

I have written so many times about how tennis seems to have a life of its own in some rather odd or strange ways. Almost as if it is somehow mirroring or metaphoring life itself. Never has this been more clear to me and I find this parallel universe incredibly fascinating. In these days of a "supposed" pandemic and political explosive times tennis has somehow taken on a different look as well. Never before have we seen a spectacle like the one we are currently witnessing. To me it almost looks like the death of tennis. Society seems to have lost its will to survive as it has been exhausted of all of the illusions of happiness that it used to offer. We have found that all it takes to upset the apple cart is a tiny microscopic entity that may or may not exist. Believe it or not...there is no shortage of people that think that this is a complete scam.

Although I write at times as if it is a scam I cannot be all to sure of that myself. But I believe in a healthy skeptical attitude and not going to go crawling into my basement to finish out my days. I would rather die on my feet...preferably playing golf or maybe even some rather lame tennis. So I have my doubts...as much as I do about tennis. By the way...tremendous kudos to you John for maintaining a level of consistency in the monthly offering of tennisplayer.net. I don't think the website has lost a bit of quality since the trouble began. But the forum has and let me be perfectly honest here. What we are seeing now is a two man discussion about the events being played between stroke and spotty with both of them falling over each to agree with each other. As much as I like and respect stroke...I find this very boring. The last nail in the coffin has been the fact that Roger Federer has mysteriously disappeared for one more go to transform himself for his final curtain call at the Australian Open. I don't know if he has the impetus to make it to Wimbledon. The clock is ticking...the act is drawing to a close.

So what is left? It looks to me as if it is coming to something very base in the human saga. It looks to me as if it is coming down to a scene where it all boils down to survival and if that is the case...so be it. God's will be done. But at the same time it is worth recording the events that transpire and this cozy little corner of the universe doesn't see the amount of infernal traffic that one sees in other parts of the universe nowadays. The internet is rife with opinions. The airwaves are competing against and with each other. The drone of the voice of human existence in the background. But here we have our space...tennisplayer.net.

If I don't agree with your decision with regard to political discussion I can certainly understand it. The last go around got a bit ugly. Some of the words that were used were extremely provocative and demeaning. So there you go. I have never said this before...my two cents. Long live this website and long live tennis. One of the last things to go amongst humans as they relate to each other is any semblance of respect when they do not "agree" with each other. That won't happen with me. I don't think it is because I don't care...but I realise that we are running out of time. Just as the sport of tennis seems to be doing. Running on fumes.

[don_budge]

DB,I made a decision to drop all politics from the board. Last one pls.

Somehow I think that is a mistake...but I could be wrong. What else is there in life nowadays...love in the time of Corona, politics and tennis? Golf maybe. But be that as it may I deleted the last post. The one about the media maybe be interpreted as political and If you deem so I would eliminate that one as well. While I am a feeling and functioning human being outside of the tennis world as well I am also an advocate for law and order. As opposed to anarchy. So without a problem or argument I respect your wishes...much as I respect you as a man and a tennis person.

[johnyandell]

DB,
I made a decision to drop all politics from the board. Last one pls.

[don_budge]

Weapons of Mass Deception...WMD

Ah yes...the infamous "Weapon of Mass Deception". Where have I/you heard that before? Right here on TP. How long have I been using that as the acronym...WMD? This is the first time that I have heard or seen it elsewhere. That doesn't mean it hasn't been around. It has been around a long, long time. What does it take to manipulate a human being? As it stands...not a whole helluva lot. Ask yourself...look yourself in the mirror? Am I a lemming...or a free thinking human being? If you guess either way, check yourself. Nobody is immune. Not even don_budge. Well...maybe a bit less so. Don't you think so? Don't be angry...I'm just the messenger.

https://patriotrising.com/weapons-of-mass-deception/

It's like the "Federer Featherer"...you've been fooled into living your life in a false paradigm.

Anticipating Roger's Thunder...then faced with a Federfore Featherer.

http://www.tennisplayer.net/bulletin...liant+disguise

What's the name of that Springsteen tune...Brilliant Disguise?

Brilliant Disguise....Bruce Springsteen

I hold you in my arms
As the band plays
What are those words whispered baby
Just as you turn away
I saw you last night
Out on the edge of town
I wanna read your mind
To know just what I've got in
This new thing I've found
So tell me what I see
When I look in your eyes
Is that you baby
Or just a brilliant disguise

Now you play the loving woman
I'll play the faithful man
But just don't look too close
Into the palm of my hand
We stood at the altar
The gypsy swore our future was right
But come the wee wee hours
Well maybe baby the gypsy lied
So when you look at me
You better look hard and look twice
Is that me baby
Or just a brilliant disguise

Tonight our bed is cold
I'm lost in the darkness of our love
God have mercy on the man
Who doubts what he's sure of

Well talk about lovely tennis shots. This little feathery is a stroke of genius and it's brilliance is in it's disguise. The initial manipulation of the racquet head with the shoulder turn allows The Swiss Maestro to perform two radically different motions, he can pound it into the corners or he can soothe it and smooth it trickling over the net...how beautiful is that? It hurts when you realize what is coming...you've been fooled!

With his racquet head in proper position...where the racquet head is higher than his hand and just as importantly the head of the racquet is just barely behind his hand so that he has maintained the subtle flex in his wrist, he is in position to make this soft caress on the ball with his strings moving subtly down and across the back of the ball. It's basically a forehand volley stroke. Notice he is not accomplishing this motion with just his hand...or just his arm...or just anything for that matter. His entire being is into this shot...every bit as much as it is behind his Federfore forehand blast or his biggest serves. The whole being of Roger Federer is into his softest shot...with just the right proportion of forward movement necessary to accomplish such a soft placement. Voila...the Federfore Featherer.

The subtle forward movement as he is making contact with the ball is the key. Many try to slide the racquet under the ball with the wrist or try to absorb the ball into the racquet with an almost backwards movement which are both very risky tries on this type of shot...in fact they don't make any sense statistically speaking. Look at his eyes and the position of his head. No head fakes. No no-lookies. The racquet head must be accelerating through the ball on contact or else you can kiss all semblance of control goodbye. Knowing Roger Federer...knowing what a control freak he is, this is going to be the last thing he is going to surrender on such a tender shot...control.

The most difficult aspect of making short putts in golf is the realization that you must accelerate the putter face through the ball. You have got to swing the putter. For you golfer/tennis players out there try visualizing swinging through to the point of the ball that is closest to the hole or rather closest to the net. Trying to push the ball into the hole or trying to wish it into the hole creates a large degree of uncertainty or doubt even on short putts or shots. That is the last thing you want to be feeling on such a delicate shot or stroke...it's the kiss of death. The same thing applies here...you have to swing the racquet. Even the shortest of shots share some of the most fundamental characteristics as the bigger shots...turn the body away from the ball and move the body through the ball. Weight forward on the front foot and accelerate the racquet head through the ball...it's virtually the same recipe for making short putts.

This tennis player is an artist and you could say that he is "poetry in motion".
Would it be possible to see this shot from the other side of his body so that we can fully appreciate the disguise of his backswing? It's one thing to hit brilliantly disguised backhand drop shots and quite another to deliver the feathery touch off the forehand side...as in the Federfore Featherer.

God have mercy on the man...who doubts what he's sure of.

Get the picture? Wake up and pay attention.

[don_budge]

Have you ever thought about channeling some of this journey quest into writing an article/ book/ screenplay, etc. about “Culture change as a reflection of the game of tennis”? It is a unique topic that could be discussed globally or regionally. There are certainly some on this forum who have the tennis and life experiences to help you kickstart such a project.

I have given some thought as to how to convert these almost 6,000 posts to some kind of book. I have written quite a lot about other things as well in other venues. Somehow I haven't managed to come up with the "idea" necessary. I am seeking help in this regard...albeit in a rather ethereal way. Do you have any advice? Thanks so much for your thoughts. You have my email.

[doctorhl]

I wrote this as a message to my high school classmates on our website...50th anniversary coming in 2022

"Journey to the End of the Night"...Ferdinand Celine

I trust everyone has had themselves quite a journey. "Journey to the End of the Night" is a rather dark sardonic novel written by this incredible French author in 1932. Dark days indeed. Some of us are overwhelmed with the darkness of our days in the year of our Lord 2020 and understandably so. If you have a strong mental mindset I recommend "Journey..." to help put this thing in perspective. Jim Morrison of the Doors loved this book so that he wrote a song about it. "End of the Night". Morrison also said "no one here gets out alive". The reality starts to sink in. Yeah...not for the feignt of heart.

"The second half of a mans life is made up of nothing but the habits he has acquired during the first half"... Fyodor Dostoyevsky (The Devils 1871)
My dear father sent me a list of quotes by well known people and this one always stuck in my head. Perhaps it was because he gave them to me as I was approaching forty years of age or so. Maybe I was thirty-eight at the time. As I read this, not knowing the context that it was written in the epic Dostoyevsky novel, I read into it what I could from what I knew. Anyways...I figured that the average human life span might be around eighty years old and right around forty it was halftime, so to speak, and it was time. In the locker room of life. It was time to assess what happened in the first half and to try and evaluate what the score was. Was I winning? Was I losing? There was no coach...there was just me.

After groping my way through my recollections of the first half of my life, it was time to determine a game plan for the second half. The first half was about youth and being young. Physical. Somewhat young but still quite physical as halftime approached. It was becoming apparent though that the second half was not going to be about the body or youth but hopefully evolving into the spirit...in a intellectual, emotional and psychological sense. The first half for my life I was heavily involved in physical activity...namely the sport of tennis and it sort of gave me an identity. The Tennis Player. But I knew as I was approaching forty that I had to give it up. I was no longer young enough to carry on the charade. To do so would be unseemly. I took my first golf lesson on my fortieth birthday at the Dearborn Country Club. In my mind I would never play tennis again.

I had worked rather fastidiously on developing the habits that a tennis player does in order to compete on higher and higher levels. That might loosely sum up the first half of my life. Not that I was solely a "tennis player". I strayed. As I approached the "halftime" of my life I found myself reading like a starving man. In pursuit of a different kind of knowledge. Understanding. I took books to bed and read them through the night. Before I went to sleep...I read. When I woke up in the middle of the night...I read. When I woke in the morning...I read. During the day...I read at every opportunity. I read by author. I picked an author and tried to read everything they wrote. I wanted to get into their heads. I don't know what compelled me to do so. Maybe it was some sort of calling. A divine inspiration. My father asked me why I was reading so insatiably...I could only answer that:

"Like the character in the Dostoyevsky novel "The Devils", that I had not read at that point, I wondered about the second half of my life. I knew big changes were in store for me but I couldn't fathom at the time what they would be. So I read about characters in these great novels by these wonderful authors until I realised that I, too...was a character on the stage of life. I did not want to fall "victim" to the Dostoyevsky curse...old habits. I wanted to change. Completely. Metamorphous."

Anyways...last week I shot 71 on my home club's course of a par 72. I broke par for the first time in many years. I had to put the golf clubs aside as I tried to eek out a living here in Sweden by teaching tennis. How ironic...Mr. Dostoyevsky. Old habits die hard. But having resigned from my position at the little funky tennis club in Skultorp, Sweden I once again set out on my Quixotic Quest on the golf course. I had flirted with breaking par a number of times by shooting even par. Finally I broke the barrier. A watershed moment. Persistence, determination and dedication. Merely a step towards my end goal...to shoot my age. I've been very lucky. Now I find myself well into the fourth quarter of life...just as all of you do. No longer the tennis player although through one of life's wonderful ironies I was the tennis teacher. Here in Sweden. Just like my wonderful tennis coach...Sherman Collins. Wondering about the finish line. Will I have to heave a "Hail Mary" or will I just run out the clock? The Lord only knows.

Have you ever thought about channeling some of this journey quest into writing an article/ book/ screenplay, etc. about “Culture change as a reflection of the game of tennis”? It is a unique topic that could be discussed globally or regionally. There are certainly some on this forum who have the tennis and life experiences to help you kickstart such a project.

[don_budge]

What is wrong with this picture:

Donald J. Trump has 88.8 million Twitter followers.

Joe Biden has 16.6 million Twitter followers.

[don_budge]

I wrote this as a message to my high school classmates on our website...50th anniversary coming in 2022

"Journey to the End of the Night"...Ferdinand Celine

I trust everyone has had themselves quite a journey. "Journey to the End of the Night" is a rather dark sardonic novel written by this incredible French author in 1932. Dark days indeed. Some of us are overwhelmed with the darkness of our days in the year of our Lord 2020 and understandably so. If you have a strong mental mindset I recommend "Journey..." to help put this thing in perspective. Jim Morrison of the Doors loved this book so that he wrote a song about it. "End of the Night". Morrison also said "no one here gets out alive". The reality starts to sink in. Yeah...not for the feignt of heart.

"The second half of a mans life is made up of nothing but the habits he has acquired during the first half"... Fyodor Dostoyevsky (The Devils 1871)
My dear father sent me a list of quotes by well known people and this one always stuck in my head. Perhaps it was because he gave them to me as I was approaching forty years of age or so. Maybe I was thirty-eight at the time. As I read this, not knowing the context that it was written in the epic Dostoyevsky novel, I read into it what I could from what I knew. Anyways...I figured that the average human life span might be around eighty years old and right around forty it was halftime, so to speak, and it was time. In the locker room of life. It was time to assess what happened in the first half and to try and evaluate what the score was. Was I winning? Was I losing? There was no coach...there was just me.

After groping my way through my recollections of the first half of my life, it was time to determine a game plan for the second half. The first half was about youth and being young. Physical. Somewhat young but still quite physical as halftime approached. It was becoming apparent though that the second half was not going to be about the body or youth but hopefully evolving into the spirit...in a intellectual, emotional and psychological sense. The first half for my life I was heavily involved in physical activity...namely the sport of tennis and it sort of gave me an identity. The Tennis Player. But I knew as I was approaching forty that I had to give it up. I was no longer young enough to carry on the charade. To do so would be unseemly. I took my first golf lesson on my fortieth birthday at the Dearborn Country Club. In my mind I would never play tennis again.

I had worked rather fastidiously on developing the habits that a tennis player does in order to compete on higher and higher levels. That might loosely sum up the first half of my life. Not that I was solely a "tennis player". I strayed. As I approached the "halftime" of my life I found myself reading like a starving man. In pursuit of a different kind of knowledge. Understanding. I took books to bed and read them through the night. Before I went to sleep...I read. When I woke up in the middle of the night...I read. When I woke in the morning...I read. During the day...I read at every opportunity. I read by author. I picked an author and tried to read everything they wrote. I wanted to get into their heads. I don't know what compelled me to do so. Maybe it was some sort of calling. A divine inspiration. My father asked me why I was reading so insatiably...I could only answer that:

"Like the character in the Dostoyevsky novel "The Devils", that I had not read at that point, I wondered about the second half of my life. I knew big changes were in store for me but I couldn't fathom at the time what they would be. So I read about characters in these great novels by these wonderful authors until I realised that I, too...was a character on the stage of life. I did not want to fall "victim" to the Dostoyevsky curse...old habits. I wanted to change. Completely. Metamorphous."

Anyways...last week I shot 71 on my home club's course of a par 72. I broke par for the first time in many years. I had to put the golf clubs aside as I tried to eek out a living here in Sweden by teaching tennis. How ironic...Mr. Dostoyevsky. Old habits die hard. But having resigned from my position at the little funky tennis club in Skultorp, Sweden I once again set out on my Quixotic Quest on the golf course. I had flirted with breaking par a number of times by shooting even par. Finally I broke the barrier. A watershed moment. Persistence, determination and dedication. Merely a step towards my end goal...to shoot my age. I've been very lucky. Now I find myself well into the fourth quarter of life...just as all of you do. No longer the tennis player although through one of life's wonderful ironies I was the tennis teacher. Here in Sweden. Just like my wonderful tennis coach...Sherman Collins. Wondering about the finish line. Will I have to heave a "Hail Mary" or will I just run out the clock? The Lord only knows.