The senseless loss
In his novel Anna Karenina the great Russian writer Leo Tolstoy writes: „All happy families are alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”
The same thing is true for wins and losses. All triumphs are the same in their extinguishing quality. They extinguish anxiety and bad decisions, wrong paths taken and doubts. The only thing that remains is joy.
Every failure in its essence, however, is different. There are losses that hurt, losses that are unlucky, losses that can cost you your job (I’m thinking about soccer managers here), losses that are lessons. But by far the worst loss of all is the senseless one. A loss so devastating it’s not even worth learning from.
Let me clarify. A handful of times in my career I played somebody so much better than me I knew in an instance that no matter how well I played that day I was going to lose. That’s not usually the case in pro tennis if you’ve been at the top or close to it. Usually, there is at least one phase in every match that can turn the thing around for you. It doesn’t mean you will always be able to do it, but it always presents itself at one point. Even in a bad loss. This phase is important in the aftermath because it will determine what you’ll have to work on for the next time.
The senseless loss, as I call it, is the loss you can take nothing from. It’s when the person on the other side is in a different class. A lightweight boxer being knocked out by a heavyweight boxer does not learn anything. Some might say it’s a lesson in acceptance or an honour to have witnessed greatness and I say maybe. Maybe if you’re committed to stoicism and if you meditate daily and if you’re a good human being who puts others first. If, however, you’re more like me, somebody who was selfish and had an ego (still has), somebody who liked to win and saw losses as simply a steppingstone to another day of triumph, being outclassed is a heavy blow to confidence.
The talent gap is real. We may live in a society that loves to tell us that anything is possible if we work hard enough and want it badly enough but it doesn’t make it true. You can get some things if you work hard but not all things. If you’re a lightweight, you won’t knock out a heavyweight. You can replicate the same training routine Michael Phelps had and still come short in a race because he has a longer upper body and apparently that helps A LOT in water. I’m more of a steady earth underneath your feet person.
And yet, I will give you a reason to keep trying.
Having been around the best tennis players in the world for more than 20 years now I’ve witnessed all kinds of characters come and go. One of the saddest is the talent that is so afraid of their limitations they give up trying before they have even glimpsed them.
Long-time readers of Finite Jest know that retiring at the same time - same tournament, same week, same place - as Serena Williams threw me right into the comforting arms of an existential crisis. Ah yes, old sport, I had been there many times before but this one seemed more consequential than the others. This life was over. Had I done everything I could? Seemingly, compared to Serena, I hadn’t. Numbers and Shakira’s hips don’t lie, right?
Two years later, I can say I was wrong. I had done everything and in this, finally, I found peace. It wasn’t the all deafening, extinguishing quality of a triumph I felt. The thing that makes everything else feel forgotten. No, it was the certainty that I had given it my all and therein I found satisfaction. What I want to say is: Shakira’s hips do lie and Mick Jagger keeps looking in the wrong place. If I can find satisfaction, I’m pretty sure so can a Rolling Stone.
Knowing of the futility of your actions when facing adversity but continuing to try your best might be pointless but it is also noble. And pointless and noble is just another word for tennis player if we’re honest.
In the end, the senseless loss is not senseless at all. It only teaches us something we really don’t want anything to do with when we’re young: humility.
Things that make me happy:
Another week, another book. This week it’s Deborah Levy’s Hot Milk. It’s poetic and weird and funny. In short: Right up my alley. A book is not a book unless there’s a snack nearby you can finish in one big gulp. These macadamia nuts from Whole Foods are an excellent companion.
Things that make me unhappy:
I’ve been in L.A. for a few days and like the real German I am I brought a strong three-day-rain-streak with me. It’s just what we do. In all seriousness, it’s good to see the wildfires contained and the Santa Ana winds calmed down. All these things make me happy. One thing that always makes me restless, though, is a city that is not made for walking. Ever since I’ve retired, walking has been one of my main activities. Here in L.A. I had to go back to the gym. Ugh. Or drive to walk…and that’s just weird.
Happy Valentine’s Day everybody! I’m raising my glass to each and every one of you, sending warm thoughts and the remaining love I can muster in my cold, black heart. May all your food items be heart-shaped today. See you all next week.
Yours truly, Andrea
I can’t say this is the best thing you’ve written: maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Definitely on the short list though. Great work and much appreciated.
In our house, your retirement was felt way more deeply than Serena's. No offense to Serena.