So, I decided I really needed to get my tennis serve faster. Mine was just… pathetic. Floated over the net half the time. No power. It was getting embarrassing, especially during club matches.
First thing I did was just go out and hit buckets of balls. Like, hundreds. Just trying to smash it as hard as I could. Total disaster. My arm hurt, balls flew everywhere but in the service box, and honestly, nothing got faster. It just got wilder. I felt pretty dumb just whaling away like that with no real plan.
I spent a few afternoons just watching the better players at the club. Noticed they weren’t just swinging their arms like madmen. It looked smoother, more connected. Like their whole body was in on it, not just the arm.
Getting Down to Actual Practice
Okay, time for a different approach. I stopped trying to kill the ball and started breaking things down. Here’s what I focused on, one thing at a time:
- The Toss: Realized my toss was all over the place. So, practiced just tossing the ball. Again and again. Aiming for the same spot every single time. Boring? Yes. Necessary? Absolutely.
- Leg Drive: Started really thinking about pushing off the ground. Bending my knees more, then exploding upwards. Felt awkward at first, like I was jumping weirdly.
- Shoulder Thing: Tried to get that ‘shoulder-over-shoulder’ motion people talk about. Getting my non-hitting shoulder up, then rotating. This took ages to feel even remotely natural.
- Contact Point: Tried hitting the ball higher up. Reaching for it instead of letting it drop.
Progress was slow. Some days I felt like I nailed it, serves felt crisp. Other days, it was like I forgot everything, back to square one. Super frustrating. There were definitely days I just wanted to pack it in, felt like I was wasting my time.
It reminded me of this awful data entry task I had at a temp job years ago. Just mindless repetition, felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere. You’d type for hours, look up, and the pile of papers hadn’t shrunk. Serving practice felt like that sometimes. You hit fifty balls, maybe two felt right. The rest? Junk. But you just had to keep going, trusting you weren’t just typing into the void, or in this case, hitting balls into the fence for nothing.
That temp job gig? I only lasted three weeks. Couldn’t stand it. Walked out mid-afternoon one Tuesday. But with the serve, I stuck with it. Maybe because I actually wanted the result, unlike alphabetizing invoices for some company I didn’t care about.
Anyway, after weeks, maybe months, of this grind, things started clicking more often. The serve definitely got faster. Not like a pro rocket, don’t get me wrong, but it has some sting now. People notice. It feels good, like I actually built something with all that repetitive motion.
It’s still a work in progress, though. Some days the timing is off. But at least now I know what to work on when it feels wrong, instead of just hitting harder and hoping for the best. It’s a process, I guess.
