The Art of Lawn Tennis

Tennis is at once an art and a science. The game played by such men as Norman E. Brookes, the late Anthony Wilding, William M. Johnston, and R. N. Williams is art. Yet, like all true art, it has its basis in scientific methods that must be learned and learned thoroughly for a foundation before the artistic structure of a great tennis game can be constructed. Every player who helps to attain a high degree of efficiency should have a clearly defined method of development and adhere to it. He should be sure that it is based on sound principles and, once assured of that, follow it, even though his progress seems slow and discouraging. I began tennis wrong. My strokes were terrible, and my viewpoint clouded. I had no early training, as many of our American boys have. No one told me the importance of the fundamentals of the game, such as keeping the eye on the ball or correct body position and footwork. I was given a racquet and allowed to hit the ball.

Naturally, like all beginners, I acquired many severe faults. I worried along with moderate success until I had graduated from school, beating some pretty good players but losing some matches to men below my class. The year following my graduation, the new Captain of my Alma Mater’s team asked me if I would aid him in developing the squad for the following year. “Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,” so I said Yes. At that point, my tennis education began. The youngsters comprising our tennis squad knew me well and felt at perfect liberty to ask me as many questions as they could. I was besieged with requests to explain why Jones missed a forehand drive down the sideline, Smith couldn’t serve well, or Brown failed to hit the ball. Frankly, I did not know, but I answered them something at the moment and said to myself it was time I learned some fundamentals of tennis. So, I began to study why certain shots are missed and others made.