Tennis thing: Learning the serve

I take two lessons a week, only 30 minutes each, though for a time I added a third lesson to focus specifically on the serve. My thought was that within a month or so my serve will catch up with the rest of my game and I’ll go back to two lessons a week. It may turn out that my estimate is optimistic. We’ll see.

Serving is a blend of the toss, the swing (upwards and then outward) and managing to send the ball into the court. I think the toss is unique in sports. I can’t think of another game that asks the player to essentially throw the ball to himself to initiate a strike. The serve, at this point, is abbreviated. I start with elbow up and the side of the racket against my upper back. I’m sure it looks funny but I understand the theory. It reminds me of an abandoned golf swing theory that David Leadbetter tried to sell a few years ago called the A Swing. In the A Swing, the player started his backswing with the hands at around waist high and the club head near shoulder height. 

It never caught on. 

But, as I said, I do get Caesar’s idea. The entire serve motion is surprisingly tricky. The problem is that it looks so simple on TV, or when an expert like Caesar hits a serve right before my eyes. If only. Watching others is instructive in at least two ways. The first is as examples of what not to do. This is a sadly rich field. I see some pretty good tennis players with very bad serves. When I asked Caesar about this he didn’t hesitate before he answered. “Very common. The best way to practice the serve is to do it alone, and it’s boring.” This sounded similar to practicing putting. 

But wait, I’m trying to forget about golf. 

In addition to tossing the ball to yourself, you also have to coordinate a separate motion, that being the actual swing at the ball. There’s one more bit of fun; the ball will be (or should be) far above your head when you strike it. That strike location makes the motion all the more difficult to master. 

I keep the images of three serves in my head. First and most obvious is Caesar’s. Even through he  frequently reminds me that it’s been over twenty years since he’s hit a competitive serve there’s no missing the mastery of his motion. His serve makes the solid strike of the ball seem like a mere eventuality. It looks like he couldn’t miss. The motion and the pace of the serve seem very much out of step with each other. His take back is slow and smooth but once the ball is hit the other perception is of speed.

2021 © Ben Gauger

On TV I  enjoy watching Maria Sakkari of Greece. She is closer to my height so length of her arc and potential extension are closer to mine. There’s a fantastic slo-mo of her serve on Instagram that I study from time to time. It reminds me a mid-1990s golf thing called Sybervision that featured continuous slo-mo loop of Bobby Jones hitting a golf ball. I never got my tempo anywhere close to Jones’ but it was a helpful reference to what was possible. 

2010 © Kate Tann

In the realm of the impossible, something I enjoy watching for its abbreviated if lurid grandeur, is the serve of Andy Roddick. I love abbreviated, explosive athletic motions like Roddick’s. It looks as if every unnecessary movement has been deleted leaving only the kinetic elements that contribute directly to the strike. This appeals to me. It makes me think that I could replicate the essence of Roddick’s serve absent, of course, the astonishing speed and power he achieved. The movement in his serve reminds me a little of watching Nick Price hit a 4-iron. Neither swing lasts long but both are awesome.

2007 Boss Tweed, CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons

The take back is the next issue. I’ve watched videos of professionals who start with the racket in the trophy position, upper arm parallel to the ground, upper arm at something like a right angle to it, racket pointing skyward. From here, they execute their racket drop, the rotation of the upward-facing racket to a position that finds the top of the racket pointing backward or, in the case of Mr. Roddick, nearly straight down. Many players coordinate the movement of the tossing arm with the racket arm, so both arms are moving upward at about the same time. I cannot say exactly why, but there’s something about this motion that feels off to me. If the tossing and swinging arm go up at the same time and the ball is tossed further upward it seems to me that the swinging arm will have to wait for the ball to apex and start falling. I understand the racket drop takes time before the forward swing gets going but it seems to me that, maybe, if the swinging arm trailed a bit the transition into the swing might be smoother and more sequential. Not to fixate on Andy Roddick, but this photo shows what I mean.

More on the serve later.

Tennis thing: Learning the serve

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