Foreword
This little book does not pretend to be a scientific treatise on the game of tennis. It presents my ideas of the game particularly as it should be played by women. Many excellent players will undoubtedly agree with me and many other equally excellent players will undoubtedly disagree with me. I do not conceitedly claim that I am always right nor will I concede for a moment that I am always wrong. I merely sketch the game as I know it.
MOLLA BjURSTEDT.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
Foreword v
I. The Woman's Game 3
Chapter I
TAKE the net as soon as you can — and don't let her pass you." I heard this instruction given to a young girl by a man ranking in the first ten. The girl took the advice eagerly — as though it were new and unusual. A few weeks later I saw her playing; she was faithfully following the principle in so far as reaching the net was concerned but she was being passed at will. Her opponent, who had not nearly so much tennis ability, was winning rather easily.
The admonition to play the volley game is perfectly
sound; the style is most effective — if you can play it.
I have never known a girl or a woman who could
play a net game in singles through three hard sets — who could reach the net, volley consistently, and keep the pace. And yet I do not know how many thousands are trying to progress in this style of game under the impression that first-class tennis is not to be achieved without imitating Mr. Maurice McLoughlin. Mr. McLoughlin, at his best, is a marvellous player; he can do things which an ordinary human is foolish to attempt. And he must be in the most splendid physical and mental condition to play his own peculiar game. No other man has ever yet been able to put over a railroad serve, follow up to the net, and play the ball almost continuously in the air; it demands more energy and endurance than even the trained man possesses. Mr. Johnston, the present champion, and Mr. Williams, the 19 14 champion, have flashes of the McLoughlin game, but they find hard driving more economical of effort and just as effective in point getting.
If the men in the first flight cannot play the hard serving, smashing game, how foolish it is for the average girl to experiment with it !
No woman has the strength, the reach, or the quickness of the skilful tennis man, and to play consistently at the net requires the ultimate in strength, reach, and quickness. It is silly to take the net and be passed by the first return, but only extraordinary speed and reach will avoid passing, while just as uncommon spryness is needed to go back to the base line for the lobs. I have never had much difficulty in passing an inveterate volleyer or in forcing her back by hard drives, and while she is exhausting herself, I am consuming comparatively little energy.
The best volleyer that I have seen among women is Mrs. George W.Wightman (Miss Hazel Hotchkiss). She is deadly at the net; she is the best partner to be found among all the women for mixed doubles because there she can show her volley skill; but she cannot often keep up the pace of her game through three sets of singles. I have played against her many times and she always leads me until the effort of her game begins to wear her down. I am considerably stronger than most women, but I could not play the man's game.
I think it best for a woman to realize that she is a woman and to adopt a style of tennis play which will call for all the generalship and strength which she can claim— but not for more.
Any girl will find her best tennis by concentrating on the drives rather than on the service and by making use of the volley only when circumstances promise an ace.
Accuracy and speed from the base line make up the game of tennis for women. It is not a spectacular style, but it wins. I do not for a moment advocate pat ball and I do not consider it enough merely to make a return. I have nothing of gentleness in my own game, but I do not attempt the impossible— and I hold the net game for women approaches the impossible.
The base-line game is almost universal abroad, although English women volley much more than is generally supposed. The average of play abroad, taking the whole tournament season, is somewhat higher than in the United States. I think this is because the women in England, Germany, and France give vastly more attention to their form in driving. American women waste so much time in a vain attempt to learn to volley that they neglect the foundation of their game.
I have yet to know a first-class volleyer among women who has consistently won from a hard-hitting base-line player. Mrs. Bundy (Miss May Sutton) is a hard and accurate driver; it was her driving that brought her the English championship, although she plays extremely well overhead when such play is needed. She drove so well that some of the English women thought they could break up her game if only they could dislodge her from the command of the drive. In the championship singles of 1905 Mrs. Larcombe (then Miss E. W. Thompson) planned to win from Miss Sutton with a volley game. She lured Miss Sutton to the net by a short, drop drive and then lobbed the return high to the base line;
this gave her the chance to reach the net, where she caught Miss Sutton's return of the lob with a sharp cross-court volley for the ace. Miss Thompson won five out of the first seven games by these [tactics, but she ran herself off her feet in the winning; she became feebler and feebler, while Miss Sutton was as fresh and strong as at the beginning. Having worn herself out, Miss Thompson lost all control and Miss Sutton ran out that set and then took the second set and the match without the least trouble. Possibly Miss Thompson might have won had she been able to keep up her starting pace — but she went the way of all women volleyers. I am fairly certain that, some day, a girl will burst out with the ability to play the fast game through the course of two tournament sets; that girl will be, beyond question, a champion. But there is no sight of her as yet.
Closely pressing the desire to play the net game is the yearning after a service which will always score aces.
Many girls have the notion that tennis is a one-
Photograph by Paul Thompson
THE BEGINNING OF THE FOREHAND DRIVE stroke game. They act as though the game started and stopped with the delivery of a non-returnable service ball. Of course a non-returnable service would be a distinctly worth-while acquisition for any player — man or woman; the super-girl, of whom I have just spoken, might attain such a service and score aces as she pleased, but I have yet to meet the unreturnable service.
The service is merely the stroke which puts the ball into play; it may be made with more speed and precision than the subsequent strokes of the game, because it is executed at leisure, but it is not the game itself, and undue attention to the service will not only exhaust a player but is also apt to result in a slacking of the play after the service.
Rather than work for a non-returnable service, one had better cultivate an accurate service of fair speed that does not require too much strength. Save your strength for the drives, because no matter how hard you may serve, a first-class player will nearly always find a way to return; the service aces are not numerous enough to warrant the effort in trying for them, while the attempt to score on the service may easily gain as many double faults as aces.
The ranking women players are not the players with the swiftest services. I have never been able to develop more than fair speed and accuracy on the service; Mrs. Bundy has almost as bad a service as I have; Mrs. Wightman has little speed but excellent placement.
A few girls try to learn the fast twisting services which some male players use — the reverse twist for instance — but when they do develop that service, they seldom have another stroke at command, and they will beat themselves if you give them half a chance; if they serve a very fast first ball, they will either have a slow and easily killed second ball or they will put over the second ball at the pace of the first and therefore make frequent double faults. Bothering with the complex services is not worth while, the effort of the delivery is too exhausting.
The point which I wish to make is this : a woman has physical limitations— she is not so strong or so enduring as a man and she must acknowledge these limitations when playing tennis. She can play a certain sort of game very well indeed while another sort of game is quite beyond her. By mixing the two extremes she will have a game which is neither one thing nor the other, but by developing along the right lines she will attain a technique that makes for good tennis. The woman's game emphasizes hard drives and accuracy and minimizes the plays, such as the volley and the twisting services, which make huge drafts on energy.
I believe in accuracy and speed. Both are the results of style. Therefore a player needs style. Style represents that method of executing a stroke which has been found to produce the best results with the least possible exertion. With proper form the hard drive does not represent mere brute strength but perfect timing and the concentration of the weight of the body on the ball. Without this coordination one may hit at the ball very hard indeed
in]
without making a really fast drive. Every person will not find the same style comfortable, but it is very rare that a grotesque style gives results. Some players win in spite of their style, but it will usually be found that these players have picked up faults in the beginning which they have not been able to overcome and therefore their ultimate playing style is only the result of a bad start.
When you have gross faults of style it is well to try out thoroughly with a good professional or a skilled player. If, after exhaustive experiment, you find that better style does not improve your game, then you may let well enough alone. But only one player in every thousand will do well to stay with a fundamentally bad style. 1 1 is far better to begin tennis all over again and spend two or three years in thoroughly reforming your bad habits.
Some few elements must be common to every style which is worthy the name; without these elements the style is so bad that persistency is foolish.
Among these elements are the (i) foot work and its close associate, (2) body momentum, and (3) the swing and the follow through. Unless the feet are well managed, a player will not reach the ball in proper position for the stroke, and, if she is not in proper position, she will not add weight to the swing of the racquet; even the strongest arm will not put the pace on a ball that is given, almost without effort, by a slight concentration of the force of the body at exactly the right moment. I am not enough of a scientist to know why following through helps speed and control so much — because it starts after the ball has left the racquet. I am told that the follow through is valuable because it forces one to start the stroke well before the impact with the ball and thus insures a firm, even, forceful swing. Certainly speed and control are not possible without taking the stroke through at least half a circle. Every one knows how a golf ball pops off from a shakily swung club; a tennis ball acts in precisely the same way if the racquet be rudely poked at it. The full, true stroke is essential.
Although it may not be given to every one to play first-class tennis and many will not have ambitions in that direction, yet more fun is to be had from the game by playing well rather than poorly. And any girl, without a serious physical defect, may learn to play a passable game of tennis.
Tennis seldom comes naturally; one may have the strength, the speed, and the eye by nature, but form is a question of hard, painstaking work. The best players practise tirelessly — they are playing every day through the open season and often play indoors a good part of the winter. They do not expect to play half a dozen times a year and also play well. I take a professional every little while to help me out on some part of the game where I feel especially weak.
I know splendid players who apparently have not a single natural aptitude toward the game, but by intelligent practice they have learned the game best suited to them — and they play it. Mrs Barger- Wallach is not strong, but she has acquired a tennis game far above the average. Mr. Johnston is very slightly built.
Tennis does not need brute strength as much as coordination; coordination is a matter of training; therefore tennis resolves itself into form and training. If one has strength and speed in addition to form and coordination, so much the better for the eventual game, but it is a mistake to imagine that only the natural athlete can profitably take up tennis.
There is no tennis age; the limit is mental. I have partnered with the Crown Prince of Sweden against the King and my sister. Of the two men, the King is the better player. In Germany the Countess of Schulenberg enters tournaments at scratch; her daughter, in the twenties, has a handicap. I know a dozen women over fifty who will give any one a stiff game; and I also know girls of fifteen and sixteen who are masters of every stroke. I should hardly advise the very young girls or the women past fifty to enter the first-class tournaments, because the nervous strain of playing through is considerable; but tournament
TENNIS FOR WOM EN play engages only a small number of players and is not to be considered the end of tennis. The real object of tennis — the object of any sport — is to gain health and have a good time.
I think any girl or woman will be helped by playing tennis.
Strength, quickness, grace, agility, and general good health are the rewards.
It is a mistake to imagine that a woman should have only gentle, lazy exercise. A normal woman needs an outdoor sport which will stir her blood and her brain.
Droning through a set of motions is a mere waste of time.
Tennis has every element of the perfect exercise for women. There is no bodily contact and hence no danger of injury, but there is the strongest kind of competition. The fighting spirit is developed, and I think a girl ought to have as much pluck and fighting spirit as a man. It helps in everything to be able to clench the teeth and say, " I am going to win."
And then tennis keeps the player in the open air amid the most healthful surroundings; you have to move quickly, your hand and your foot must obey your mind, and you are forced to forget poses and all that unnatural sort of thing. A girl is the better for knowing she is alive.
Tennis is not too violent. A weak woman may adapt her game to the limits of her physique; she will play a gentle game until more strength permits her to play harder and faster. I have played twelve hard sets in a single afternoon and then danced all the evening without finding myself harmed. Of course this would be too much for an unseasoned player — but then an unseasoned player could not keep on her feet so long.
Tennis is not for the girl who wants a milkwhite face covered with paint and powder; if that is the ideal of feminine beauty, tennis and every other outdoor game must be avoided. But I think a coat of tan and a freckle or two are normal. I have no patience with the languishing, made-up beauty; she is not much more human than a dressmaker's dummy.
Play tennis if you wish a lithe, slim figure, a clear, healthy complexion, and a coordinated body and brain.
The points in the woman's game are:
i . Accuracy in placement.
2. The development of the driving, base-line game as opposed to the net game.
3. The accuracy and not the speed of the service.
4. The conservation of energy.
5. The grounding of the knowledge that a stroke is not well played unless the hall goes to the intended spot.
6. As much speed as is consistent with accuracy.
[■si
Chapter II
I HAVE heard that one may learn to swim by being tossed overboard in deep water; possibly this is true, but I doubt if the stroke, thus frantically found, is the best stroke. One may also learn to play tennis by being shoved on to a court with a racquet and told to play; most people start in some such way. I did — and it took me some years to get rid of the faults which I at once fell into. I discovered purely individual ways of hitting the ball; they had the merit of originality. One needs precious little originality in tennis.
It saves an infinite amount of time to start right; the tennis genius may evolve a creditable game on her own account, but I am sure she would play a better game if she had first mastered fundamental play and then put the genius play on the top of that. The beginner always executes a stroke in the least effective but most strength-absorbing way. When I began, my only idea was to hit the ball with all my might. I liked the game because it gave me a rare chance to hit something without being reprimanded. Sometimes the ball went into the net, more often it sailed yards away. I was tamed by my fellow players who insisted that I give some attention to the court lines.
Finally — after perhaps three months — I had a professional teacher and started to learn to play tennis instead of the exhilarating game which I had founded. And it was ever so hard to give up the entirety of my own ideas.
Have your own racquet from the very beginning; find one that exactly suits you in weight, balance, and grip. It pays to buy the best in racquets. I like the very tightly strung, fine gut — the fine gut gives more elasticity to the stroke, although it is not so economical as the heavier stringing. I used thirteen new racquets during the 191 5 season and had five restrung, but then I played all the time and often in soggy weather. I keep four racquets with me when I play.
The shape of the head is a matter of individual taste, and any of the better makes have well-formed faces.
When your racquet is not in use, keep it in a press. The frame must always be true, else the face of the racquet will have odd angles and the ball will fly off in all sorts of queer directions.
I use a i3§-ounce racquet, which is heavy in the head and feels like a i4i-ounce one; I like the heavy head because it seems to give me greater power in my drives. I play a purely driving game; my arm is strong and I can handle the extra weight. Most players prefer an evenly balanced racquet, and probably such is best for the beginner; one can afterward experiment a little on weights. Very few girls will do well to take a racquet heavier than 13J ounces; Mrs. Bundy, Mrs. Wightman, Miss Mary Browne, in fact all the best American women, use that weight; a few of the English women go in for 14 ounces, but I think that is too heavy. A heavy racquet will quickly tire the forearm and slow up the play. Unless one is really very weak and slight, 1 3 ounces is a minimum weight.
The size of the grip is very important; you can never learn to play unless you have an entirely comfortable handle. I use a rather small handle — 5J inches in circumference — because I want my whole hand about the grip, but 5i inches is the usual size. Most dealers will find you a racquet to suit if you are persistent.
A firm grip cannot be had unless the handle is dry during play; if your hands perspire it is well to wind the handle with tape. I am luckily not bothered in that way.
Several ways of holding the racquet are in vogue; I think the "American" way is the best. It is as follows :
Grasp the racquet at the very end, resting the butt against the base of the palm; many girls simply "grab" the handle about halfway up; they wonder
THE GRIP FOR THE FOREHAND DRIVE
TAKING UP TENNIS why they cannot control the ball. To get the proper leverage and freedom it is necessary to take the racquet at the very end. This grip may seem insecure at first, but you will soon become accustomed to it.
I use two grips: the first for forehand strokes and the second for backhand strokes. In the first grip the hand is simply closed around the handle with the thumb across. This is the grip which is used for all strokes excepting those on the backhand. The backhand stroke requires a firmer grip, and therefore the thumb is moved out parallel with and pressing against the handle. The shift is an easy one and is made, almost unconsciously, as the racquet swings over for the backhand play. This is, I think, the easiest and the most natural grip; one strikes almost as though with the palm of the hand on the forehand strokes, while the thumb up the handle gives a definite firmness, without undue strain on the wrist, in the backhand strokes. Some players shift their grip slightly for the backhand, but I think this is unnecessary. I believe in keeping one's game of tennis, in so far as style is concerned, to the elementary principles. *
In the English grip, the head of the racquet is above the wrist; the thumb is not carried up the handle for the backhand strokes. I should not attempt to enter the argument pro and con on the two styles. I like my own style, and I am quite sure that any girl will have a firmer and more delicate backhand with the thumb up than with it around the handle.
A few players grasp their racquets an inch or two above the butt of the handle, notably Mrs. Bundy and Miss Clare Cassell. Norman Brookes also plays with this sort of a grip, so it undoubtedly has the sanction of good company. But one needs all the reach to be had, and shortening the hold on the racquet only shortens the reach.
Some players grip their handles with the same firmness throughout the whole game. I find that this tires me; I prefer to relax my grip between strokes and then close firmly as I swing for the ball. It is all a matter of choice except that the grip must be very firm when the ball is taken; if your racquet turns ever so little in your stroke, the control of the ball is lost. Thoroughly understand the holding of the racquet before you attempt to hit the ball; it is all very simple, but an awkward grip is difficult to lose if persisted in through only a few months.
Having learned the grip, you will be ready to take up the strokes of tennis. It will be tiresome to go along methodically when it seems so easy simply to plunge into a game, but you cannot hope ever to play an acceptable game — a game which will give you even a decent amount of fun — unless you learn to handle yourself and your racquet. No one thinks of going into golf without instruction, but people imagine that tennis is inherent in them; correct tennis is inherent in no one — the correct swing and follow through of tennis is every whit as hard to acquire as the correct swing and follow through in golf.
If a good professional tennis instructor may be had, by all means engage him. But there are very few professionals in the United States, and only a limited number of players can avail themselves of their services. In the absence of a professional ask the best player you know to teach you.
The teaching should not be in an actual game. You will not learn the strokes of tennis in a game. Get a supply of balls and have your instructor bounce them gently to you; hit the ball as it rises — just before it reaches the top of the bound.
Most players hit the ball as it descends; it is easier to hit it then, but you lose a deal of time in the return and give your opponent a chance to get into position. And if you do not learn to take the ball before the top of the bounce when you first start to play you will never learn thereafter. I attribute much of my success in passing net players to the quickness of my returns; and the quickness is due solely to taking the ball before it has had time to descend.
If two players were absolutely equal in skill and generalship, but the one hit the ball before the top of the bound and the other after, the player who hit the rising ball would surely win. She would be so much faster in her returns that she would be bound to win.
Your practice should teach you how to swing your racquet and how to manage your body and feet. Once you have learned these elements you are ready to have balls tossed across the net to you to be hit back for direction.
Take up one stroke at a time; first learn the forehand drive and then the backhand drive. Do not bother with the service until you have a very definite idea of the drives and can execute them with a fair degree of freedom and accuracy.
A stroke in tennis is a blending of the whole weight and force of the body. The arm and the racquet are merely the means of communicating this force to the ball. You do not hit the ball with the strength of the arm : in a well-executed drive you will not use much of the arm. You will rather lean against the ball with your racquet. This stroke involves the right movement of the feet and of the body, as well as the true, firm swing and follow through of the racquet. It is the perfect coordination of these elements rather than brute strength which gives speed to a tennis ball.
These elementary principles must be learned before you start to play a game. If you start into competition too soon, you will forget the elements in the desire to win points; for it will take time to make correct form second nature, and in the hurry of the game you will try some slipshod stroke that seems good for the moment.
I cannot too strongly emphasize the grounding of the elements. Once you have the ideas of the stroke, you can gain much good practice hitting the ball against a smooth wall or fence. The late Anthony Wilding perfected all of his strokes alone; he would work for hours and days on the one stroke, striking the ball against a wall. He was not a natural player; he acquired his form and skill solely through the hardest sort of practice.
Another excellent feature of the wall practice is that it teaches keeping the eye on the ball.
Keep your eye on the ball ! It is quite as important in tennis as in golf. No stroke can be well or accurately made unless you have your eye glued to the ball from the very moment it leaves the opponent's racquet. Many players fail miserably simply because they do not obey this principle. Unless you have your eye on the ball, you will misjudge its flight and be caught off balance when you come to make the stroke.
Do not say, "Oh, bother, I'll pick up all these things as I go along." You will not pick them up unless you start with them as principles. You cannot build a game without a foundation any more than you can build a house without a foundation. You must have something to work on.
I have spoken of strokes and mentioned several
kinds of strokes, but I have not yet described them.
Strokes are divided broadly into ground strokes, in
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