Those few steps.
It’s strange how a tennis court can suddenly feel much bigger than it really is.
Most of the time, we barely notice the walk back to the baseline. We get on with it. Pick up the balls, bounce them a few times, start the next point.
Then there are the other moments.
Break point down. Second serve. A double fault we can still feel in our hands.
Suddenly those few steps feel much longer.
The court gets quieter too. We notice things we normally wouldn’t: shoes against the surface, balls rolling behind the fence, someone talking on the next court over.
Then our brain starts getting involved. Tennis gives us too much time to think sometimes. Don’t miss this one. Don’t rush. Just make the first serve.
None of it usually helps.
That’s the difficult thing about tennis. There’s nowhere to hide between points. We have to walk back to the line carrying whatever just happened with us.
Sometimes it’s frustration. Sometimes nerves. Sometimes just the feeling that the match is starting to drift away slightly.
And yet, the better players always seem to slow things down in these moments. Not dramatically. Just enough. One deeper breath. A calmer walk to the line. A few extra seconds before serving.
Not because they aren’t nervous.
Because they are.
That’s probably why these moments feel so familiar to all of us. Club matches under floodlights. Tight tie-breaks. Local league matches on cold evenings. We’ve all had those walks where the next point suddenly feels much bigger than it should.
Then the serve starts. The bounce. The toss. The swing.
And for a second, everything goes quiet again.
👉 Deuce