Recently, I was waxing eloquent (at least I hope it was eloquent) on tie-breakers for selection events like national team trials. I have always been frustrated that eventually you have to go to games won and sometimes even points won. Though I don’t really have a better solution, it always has bothered me because I believe most in the bottom line: who won the match?
One of the points I made was that a proven strategy in squash is to outlast one’s opponent. I remember reading about a match that Geoff Hunt played where he said, “I didn’t really care who won the first game as long as it lasted over an hour.” His strategy for the match was completely based on wearing out his opponent. There is something there that I find compelling.
After I made this point, however, one of the pooh-bahs in the US squash world wrote me back:
“While I agree that attrition based on fitness is a legitimate style, it's pretty clear to me that the top players today are not playing that way. The game has moved towards a more attacking style, and I think we want to encourage, if not actively favor, that style of play, since our players are more likely to succeed at the highest levels if they learn how to play a more attacking style.”
I don’t like this (even while I have to admit that I can’t quite disagree with it). There has always been something appealing to me about the sheer force of will and concentration. Get ready for this (this is where you find out just how odd I really am): I actually liked watching tennis matches between Eddie Dibbs and Harold Solomon. Many people think that women’s tennis is where the term “moonball” came from, but it actually was from the duo known as the Bagel Brothers who were two of the first converts to the western grip and extreme topspin in tennis.
They were fit and fast, and they never made mistakes. They won a heck of a lot of tournaments. Particularly on clay. But many (most?) found it boring to watch and, generally, people were happy when they retired. But I was fascinated watching them compete. It took tremendous focus and determination, and they often started matches looking so outclassed by their opponents that you wondered if they would even win a game. But they kept going, and if you watched their matches carefully, you often could spot the moment when they broke their opponents’ will. There was something very cool about that to me.
I think I have always been intrigued about how much a factor persistence is in becoming successful. Not too long ago, I was reading about a study of musically talented children. The authors of the study had a theory that musical talent must be one of the few things in the world where genetic talent would be the overwhelming factor in becoming a professional success. After all, almost all of us know that we either “have it” or we don’t when it comes to music.
So they conducted a 20-year survey of children who were starting music lessons and how they turned out. They measured things like perfect pitch, singing ability, and even hand size (it’s surprising how much hand size is a factor in things like playing the piano). These things, plus a more subjective sense of musical “talent” evaluated by professional musicians allowed the researchers to rank the children in terms of talent – and therefore, likelihood to succeed.
The paper was interesting to read because of how stunned were the authors by their own findings. It turned out that the only statistically significant predictor of professional musical success was the number of hours of practice. Not perfect pitch, not singing talent. Just how many hours did the child practice.
Even more interesting was the finding that – as a rule – these children did not like to practice any more than those who did not go on to professional musical careers. In fact, most of them intensely disliked it. But they did it anyway. The biggest difference was that they were able to get themselves to practice despite a desire – a strong desire – to do other things whereas others gave up.
I love that.
As racquet technology has changed both tennis and squash, power and shot-making have seemingly taken over both games. But don’t count out determination yet. Lleyton Hewitt, the current number one tennis player on the planet, is a counter-puncher who wins by getting the ball back one more time. Peter Nicol, squash’s number one, believes that fitness and determination are his two strongest assets.
Winston Churchill was once asked to give a commencement address, and after being introduced to tremendous applause, he stood at the dais and said nothing for over a minute. The audience began to get uncomfortable. And then he boomed out the shortest commencement speech of all time. He said, “Never, never, never, never, never give up.”
I think that really is my point.
