Flattery will get you far
It's a well known fact that I'm a bit of a glutton for flattery, a whore really, but I hate hearing compliments from opponents before and during a match. "Great shot" once in a while I can tolerate, but anything beyond that is just annoying! Don't kid yourself, no one is that nice...but weaker opponents will try to use this tactic to their advantage so that you let your guard down. I know this and yet I still succumb.
Going into the latest provincial tournament, I was seeded 3rd, and with the 1st seed bowing out due to injury, the tournament organizer pegged me as the clear favourite to win it all. I guess he was unimpressed with the 2nd seed...a guy sporting a sun visor (at an indoor tournament). I didn't mind him freely proclaiming that I'd surely cruise to the finals, nor the overly welcoming demenour of the sultry front desk attendant...the kind of welcome reserved only for the best, but I didn't care for it from my quarterfinal opponent. I've seen him around at tournaments, and although a tought competitor, I saw no need to be concerned. Before we even got started, he tells me how he watched me tear up the clay courts of Donalda earlier this year..."you played amazing...". Hell, I'd agrue if I could.
The match starts and I dominate, jumping to an early 4-1 lead. He'd try lobs, and I'd smash them down. He'd try to go to my backhand, and I'd hit clean winners. Then he starts with the commentary, talking to himself but clear and loud so that I can hear everything. After an unsuccessful attempt to expose my backhand, he utters "man, he can hit those winners all day" to himself. After an attempted lob, he'd yell "what were you thinking, he's two feet taller than you". Had he only complimented me on my great hair that day, I would have been putty in his hands. Alas, I did start feeling a little bad about destroying him so swiftly. That's no way to treat a fan. So, I toned it down just a little. That little soon turned into a prolonged 3 hour battle, that resulted in me eventually losing the match...final score 6-4, 1-6, 5-7.
It didn't help that the tournament director came over to watch the match, asking me between points why it was taking me so long to waste this guy. Nor did my opponent's sudden (illegal) injury time out in the middle of a game after I started waking up again, help me much. The worst part is, I knew all along I was being victimized by these mind games, and yet could do little at the time to prevent it from costing me the match. Well, I guess knowledge is only HALF the battle.
Going into the latest provincial tournament, I was seeded 3rd, and with the 1st seed bowing out due to injury, the tournament organizer pegged me as the clear favourite to win it all. I guess he was unimpressed with the 2nd seed...a guy sporting a sun visor (at an indoor tournament). I didn't mind him freely proclaiming that I'd surely cruise to the finals, nor the overly welcoming demenour of the sultry front desk attendant...the kind of welcome reserved only for the best, but I didn't care for it from my quarterfinal opponent. I've seen him around at tournaments, and although a tought competitor, I saw no need to be concerned. Before we even got started, he tells me how he watched me tear up the clay courts of Donalda earlier this year..."you played amazing...". Hell, I'd agrue if I could.
The match starts and I dominate, jumping to an early 4-1 lead. He'd try lobs, and I'd smash them down. He'd try to go to my backhand, and I'd hit clean winners. Then he starts with the commentary, talking to himself but clear and loud so that I can hear everything. After an unsuccessful attempt to expose my backhand, he utters "man, he can hit those winners all day" to himself. After an attempted lob, he'd yell "what were you thinking, he's two feet taller than you". Had he only complimented me on my great hair that day, I would have been putty in his hands. Alas, I did start feeling a little bad about destroying him so swiftly. That's no way to treat a fan. So, I toned it down just a little. That little soon turned into a prolonged 3 hour battle, that resulted in me eventually losing the match...final score 6-4, 1-6, 5-7.
It didn't help that the tournament director came over to watch the match, asking me between points why it was taking me so long to waste this guy. Nor did my opponent's sudden (illegal) injury time out in the middle of a game after I started waking up again, help me much. The worst part is, I knew all along I was being victimized by these mind games, and yet could do little at the time to prevent it from costing me the match. Well, I guess knowledge is only HALF the battle.
posted by Desiderius1979 at 11:19 AM
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