I’ve been playing tennis for over 30 years, and in that time I’ve missed a lot of shots. Easy shots. Hard shots. Shots I probably should have made. But none of them were as painful or as embarrassing as one particular miss that happened during a big team match.

This was at 4.5 sectionals in Indianapolis. Our team from Wisconsin had earned the chance to compete against the best teams in the Midwest, and every single match mattered. I was playing number two doubles with my partner Scott, and it became clear pretty quickly that our match was going to decide the entire team outcome.

We won the first set comfortably. In the second set, everything tightened up. Other courts finished. Teammates gathered around. All eyes were on us. We finally broke serve and went up 5 4. I stepped up to the line serving for the match at 40 30, knowing exactly what was on the line.

And then I missed one of the easiest shots you can imagine. Right into the net. Match point. Everyone watching. Total nightmare.

Moments like that are where tennis really teaches you something, and that miss ended up giving me some of the most important lessons I’ve learned as a competitor and as a coach.

The first thing tennis demands is a short memory. This game is built on mistakes. Even the best players in the world miss far more shots than they hit clean winners. Missing is not a flaw in tennis. It is the game. If you expect perfection, you are setting yourself up to emotionally unravel.

Earlier in my career, especially as a college player, I didn’t understand that yet. One mistake would turn into frustration. Frustration would turn into anger. And suddenly the match was gone. In this situation, after a brief moment of shock, I regrouped, talked with my partner, and moved on to the next point. That alone made a massive difference.

Another lesson that showed up immediately was the importance of unconditional support in doubles. Scott’s reaction after my miss was perfect. No frustration. No body language. No negativity. He picked up the ball, came back to the baseline, and we immediately started talking about the next point.

That kind of response is powerful. Doubles teams don’t win because both players are perfect. They win because they stay connected when things go wrong. If you want better results in doubles, start by being the partner who shows support no matter what just happened.

From there, the match actually got harder. I got tight. I double faulted. We went to deuce multiple times. I got broken. Everything your mind warns you about started happening. And that’s where mental toughness gets misunderstood.

Mental toughness does not mean you never feel nervous or frustrated. You’re human. You will feel those things. Real mental toughness is noticing them and then redirecting your focus back to what matters right now.

Your brain wants to live in the future or the past. What if we lose. How did I miss that. What does everyone think. None of that helps you hit the next ball. What helps is choosing something tangible in the present moment to focus on. A target. A swing intention. A decision.

When I finally did that, things changed. I loosened my arm. I swung more freely. I served with more confidence. We made it to the tiebreaker, and from there Scott and I competed the way we were capable of competing all along.

The biggest lesson from that entire experience is this. You can miss easy shots. You can choke. You can feel embarrassed in the middle of a match. And you can still win.

The difference is whether you let that moment take you out of the present. In the past, I would have spiraled. In this match, I refocused, stayed engaged, and gave myself a chance to compete. We won the tiebreak 12 10, and there is no doubt in my mind that the outcome depended entirely on what happened after that missed shot.

These are the lessons I try to pass on to my students every day. Tennis is not about avoiding mistakes. It’s about responding to them. If you can learn to do that, your results will change faster than you think.

Your coach,
Ian