I know I gave one player above 1,000 or more career points. It, too, had
a strange origin. I taught badminton in P.E. classes. Soon, thinking myself
a pretty good player, I encountered one Anand Jaggi, professor of
economics. Anand was ranked 13th in the badminton world, and he
was “state champion” in his native India.Rarely did I get a point. He won the singles,
doubles, and mixed doubles state badminton
championships held annually atDuke University.
And I soon noticed an uncanny ability he
had. He never played the shuttlecock when it
would land out of bounds. It was “dropped” or
let alone.
While my badminton ego suffered, I took
this logic to my tennis team. We need to learn the court, or like Dr. Jaggi, not hit out-of-
bounds points. We adopted this policy: In practice, if you have any doubt, let it go and
let’s see if you are right. In a match, with any doubt, go ahead and play it.
Soon I could see our players use better and better judgment. We would
occasionally let one drop in, but our percentage
grew drastically.
The player who benefited most was Chai Navawongse, a Thai lefthander
who came in on everything. Chai had played doubles with Paradorn
Schriciphan, so he came in “with game.” Soon, however, I noticed he was
playing anything close. There may be 10–20 points a match he played that
would have been out. Some, way out. I explained the “Jaggi” or “learn the
court” theory. A bright youngster, and fine player, you could see the light
click on in his head. Before long he was close to Jaggi in judgment, rarely
playing an out ball, simply pointing “out” with the left hand.

Here are some quotes on strategy from people I respect. These “rang
true” for my many players in many matches.
Find out what your opponent can’t do, or doesn’t like to do, and make
them do that.” –Jack Kramer (Think Nadal over Federer in 2007 French
Open. Target? Federer’s backhand.)
Don’t change the “line of the ball” unless you are sure you can make the
shot. Otherwise, cross courts “ad nausea.” Two-handed backhand down the
line shots will “slide wide” too often, believe me –T. Parham.
When asked what he would do differently, Ken Rosewall replied, “I would
hit a lot more balls cross court.”
Cross courts get you out of trouble. Jim Verdieck demanded the cross
court ball from his team.
Get yourself in a position to “volley away from the source” –Jim Verdieck.
Any ball hit extremely deep in either corner allows a good attacking
possibility –Jim Verdieck (“two and in”).
The simple strategy of tennis singles: “Attack the short ball” –Dennis Van
Der Meer.
Good approach shots make easy volleys –Jim Leighton.
No shots in “no man’s land” is a myth –T. Parham.
Rule 1: Find a good doubles partner. Rule 2: Get along with your
doubles partner.

Tom Morris and his character showed me a lot. Once a “new” opponent
in our district was certainly a challenge for perennial winner, Morris. All we
heard in “pre-tournament scuttle” was about this guy’s “WCT (tour level)
forehand.” Morris said nothing but at match time directed nearly every
ground stroke to an area about 5-feet square located at the service line on
his opponent’s backhand side. The guy hit his WCT forehand about three
times: 6–1, 6–0, Morris.
“The Andy Moll drill.” I taught this to the entire team. Andy asked me to
hit a solid ball to the middle of his court, then a second ball about midway
on his backhand side. Andy’s forehand was very good. He drilled his
legwork this way, turning three fourths of his shots into forehands.
(See figure 10 on page 95)

Andres Alvarez was “spot specific” on his volley.
He would serve and volley the return invariably deep
to one corner or the other—almost within a foot
every time. Then, the odds were in his favor. This is an
area in which American players and teachers could
get better. For example, we are “spot specific” on
passing shots, but on volleys many of our kids just
sort of “bang it over on the other side.”

One baseliner I coached, Stefen Hager, became a new and improved
“attacker” when he perfected this play: Attack with an improved approach
shot at their backhand. Overplay a little, setting up a ball on the backhand
side. The clue was Stefan developed an accurate, or “spot specific”
backhand volley that he then “bumped” deep and away. Then Stefan
could put away the often “weak return.”
Stefan teamed with Robert Thornqvist to win the NAIA doubles
championship in 1990. Earlier he’d have trouble winning third set
tiebreakers, or close matches at the end. (“Get the game point Stefan,”
he’d admonish himself).
John Sturen and Tom Morris had a one-handed backhand technique that
allowed them to “pull” the ball effectively. It involved a “laid back wrist” that
pulled the top edge of the racquet “around the ball.”
THE WCT FOREHANDTom Morris and his character showed me a lot. Once a “new” opponent in our district was certainly a challenge for perennial winner, Morris. All we
heard in “pre-tournament scuttle” was about this guy’s “WCT (tour level)
forehand.” Morris said nothing but at match time directed nearly every
ground stroke to an area about 5-feet square located at the service line on
his opponent’s backhand side. The guy hit his WCT forehand about three
times: 6–1, 6–0, Morris.
“The Andy Moll drill.” I taught this to the entire team. Andy asked me to
hit a solid ball to the middle of his court, then a second ball about midway
on his backhand side. Andy’s forehand was very good. He drilled his
legwork this way, turning three fourths of his shots into forehands.
(See figure 10 on page 95)
SPOT SPECIFIC Andres Alvarez was “spot specific” on his volley.
He would serve and volley the return invariably deep
to one corner or the other—almost within a foot
every time. Then, the odds were in his favor. This is an
area in which American players and teachers could
get better. For example, we are “spot specific” on
passing shots, but on volleys many of our kids just
sort of “bang it over on the other side. 

Stefan Hager  A fine player, we discussed this weakness. I began to hear him say
things like:

1. I really try in tiebreakers.
2. I’m trying to keep errors down at the end of close matches.
3. I play long points in the close sets but seem to lose game point.
   Stefan listened to my radical proposal. “Maybe you are too cautious.”
   Why not try an abrupt change? Take same chances. Gamble a little. Give
   it a try. I’m on your side, go ahead. A puzzled moment crossed his face. The
   next match I noticed he was close to the end of a tight match. I wanted to
   see what happened, but I was in another nail biter on the other side of the
   courts. (Superstition wouldn’t let me leave.)
   In the blink of an eye a teammate came to tell me, “Coach should have
   seen Stefan in that breaker: 7–1 in 10 minutes. He hit shots you
   wouldn’t believe.”
   Stefan walked up sheepishly. Didn’t say much, but he’ll tell you it
   changed his tiebreaker results forever.

Michael Leonard coachedElon’s men’s tennis team (2007) to its first Southern Conference tournament championship for any sport.The team finished 23–2 and played in the NCAA playoffs.
Michael gives me a lot of credit for his playing success. More than
I deserve. He gushes about how much I helped him, but I really only
taught him two major things: Hit it up enough on your serve and learn a
one-handed underspin ball. “Yeah coach,” says new coach Michael, “but
you don’t know how much those two changes helped. I was strictly
two-handed, but now my slice is my bread and butter.”

Dominic Moerstedt played on my first Elon team. A fine player,
Moerstedt had grown up in a German academy that had also housed Boris
Becker and Steffi Graff. Extremely talented, Moerstedt liked to try “big
bombs” for passing shots, hit from way back at the fence. I told him about an earlier player, passing on the rise, moving in on service returns, etc. Still
“boom—from way back.” The first match my team played without me there
(25 years’ perfect attendance!) came Dominic’s senior year. My wife had
to have a surgical procedure (kidney stones—ouch!), and I sent Dr. Alan White as an able substitute coach. He still brags about his tennis coach-ing. We both were lucky. After the first day of the tournament, my number one player jumped into an indoor pickup soccer game in our gym. Pop!
Leg injury. No number one for the finals. I returned to a hobbled team plus
another problem. Dominic was playing Alex Evans, an excellent Australian
player from my old school Atlantic Christian. Evans “owned” Moerstedt.
In several previous matches Moerstedt had never gotten more than two
games a set off the talented serve and volleyer Evans. This match was for
the tournament. My advice to Dominic went like this: “Dominic, we’ve tried
it your way to no avail. Please at least move in aggressively on your service
return and passing shots.”
We had practiced this a lot recently, in all fairness, and Dominic had the
kind of talent to pull it off. It shocked everyone—Evans, Moerstedt, our
team members and me: 6–2, 6–2, Moerstedt, and Elon was Conference
Champs.What really surprised me is why the strategy worked. By hitting the pass-
ing shots quicker I’d hoped that Dominic could make Evans volley from an unstable, unusual position. What actually happened is that Alex tried to
get in quicker and it disrupted his ordinarily dependable serve. Confused
by a different rhythm, he lost a lot of confidence.

“Moon” Phillips taught me a lot, about this time. They called Danny
“Moon” because his big round head looked like Charlie Browns’s (Peanuts).
It also sat on a frame of about 100-plus pounds. But Danny had some
trump cards. Great touch, hands, and volley, and he could hit it anyway it
came at him. A fine doubles player having grown up in Goldsboro, North
Carolina, he taught me several things: The backhand underspin volley,
return, and approach are true keys in college tennis. Danny, from the
backhand court, would slice a little cross-court return that the receiver had
to hit up. “Slam dunk” on our next shot. And he convinced me of another
great use of this in singles. Maybe Tim Wilkison, North Carolina’s finest
player, solidified the term “chip and charge” in tennis. I watched with pride at the U.S. Open when Tim won three straight five setters with that attach-
ing off the second serve and turning it into an approach shot. Danny showed me the “chip and rip” in Kansas City. He played an undefeated (number three in the country), serve and volley specialist. I’d heard a lot about this boy, but Danny’s tactic made breaking serve easy. He’d slyly move in, chip it at the “T” and as his opponent could only touch up this “super soft” return, Danny would then rip a big passing shot by the
defenseless volleyer. Chip, bang, lob, angles. Set him up with number one,
pass him with number two, works in singles and doubles. Chip and rip.
I began to encourage my net players to take any middle ball on the
backhand volley or service return. Ask John McEnroe. He could “touch that
chip on a dime.”

I watched players early on in the Nationals, picking up bits and pieces
from all over the country. In the years prior to the “foreign invasion” the
NAIA featured almost state vs. state contests with the warm weather states
having the advantage. California was ahead in talent, but Texas and Florida
came to play.
I loved watching the doubles matches. Southeastern Oklahoma’s coach,
Clarence Dyer, and his players were a great model. I’d watch Kim Kettleson
come in behind his serve and never miss that first volley, no matter how
hard or low the return was.
Up to this point our team members (save “Moon”) would just sort of
“wave” at those returns as they roared past for winners.
We went back to the practice rack on this shot. We made it a point of
pride to learn how to dig that return out of the hole.

Danny Colangelo was Elon’s only four-time first-team All-American in
any sport. He was talented, tough, and durable.
I learned from Danny how valuable the net player was in doubles. No
matter who I played Danny with, he’d play so well at the net that his
partner, if he didn’t double fault three or four times, would hold serve.
Danny could learn too. I convinced him at his level he needed to add
an underspin forehand return. Danny was going to play people who serve
so well he wouldn’t have time for a giant backswing. He mastered it
immediately and used it to great advantage.
What I learned was part two of the “learning.” Danny realized that if he
hadn’t had that return, others didn’t either. He began to hit his quality
serves at talented opponent’s forehands.

 

Danny told me he saved that shot for a “back-up” point on the tour and
was always surprised how many good players couldn’t hit it, mostly due to
overswinging.