Posted by Last night, I found myself playing an extract of Roger Federer’s Dartmouth Commencement Speech for the class of 2024 for my kids. His words came at just the right time, reminding us all that, in tennis, and life, “it is only a point”. And lately, we have had a lot of points in the house – both won and lost.
A bit of history
I seem to have become the mother of athletes. Specifically, those who like to compete and, ideally, win. It is all quite baffling to me, as the only competitions I did as a young kid were in school and I typically participated in all of them as I was decently athletic, but the stress level was limited. At age 15 I joined a competitive tennis club next to my house and with that started the painful path of finding out I was not really prepared for competitive sports. At least mentally.
I was not ready to fail at that age and I had developed a huge sense of attaching my self-worth to what I saw as wins, at that point mostly academic. It was also a stage in my life when I tried to minimize disappointment. To the bewilderment of my tennis coach at the time, when he finally convinced me to register for a competition, I would enter any game and transform into losing 6-1/6-0 at the first chance I would get. That would be the fastest way out. No expectation, no disappointment.
Whilst I used to say I was just not competitive, years of therapy and entering my 40s have taught me better than that. I am competitive. I just did not want the feeling of failure, so I self-induced it and made it feel like it only happened because I wanted to. To this day, if you start counting points when you play tennis with me, I will start missing every other ball. That means I reject games with friends or any sort of tournament. Recently, I had to (start) turning this around, for the sake of my kids (and my personal growth).
Why the speech?
Last weekend was a competition-filled one. On Saturday, Little Girl C participated in the regional championship for artistic gymnastics and, not only qualified for the nationals, which was her main goal, but also brought home 3 medals. A month after she won her first medal and 1 month and 2 days after she considered dropping the sport for good. On Sunday, Baby S participated in a tennis tournament for Sub-9 and came out 4th but was highly frustrated with his results, even though it was one of his best performances yet. Fourth place wasn’t what he wanted. As we sat together that night, he couldn’t even find something to write in his gratitude journal. That’s when Federer came to mind. So I broke the rules and pulled out the YouTube video after bedtime.
54% of points won means 46% of points lost
In his graduation speech, Federer reminds us that he won almost 80% of his over one thousand games but won only 54% of the points. That is a lot of lost points. And the core of one of his core tennis lessons: A Point Is Only A Point. This applies whether you hit a double fault on a Grand Slam (it is only a point), or if you hit the smash of your life that makes it to the Top 10 of ESPN (it is still only a point). None of these can get to your head and you need to get perspective.
With this, he goes on:
“Those that are successful are not those that always win, but those that know they will lose and learn from it.”
You can be upset by losing a point or even a game (and he admits to having broken a few rackets), you can even cry it out, but then you walk out, you fake a smile and you try again. That is if you enjoy the game and want to try again.
I love tennis
If you read Agassi’s book you will know that the first sentence in it reads “I hate tennis”. It is quite a surprising sentence to start a book with, in general, but more particularly from a top-ranked tennis player. I, on the other hand, love tennis. It is one of my big motivators to get fitter, to get rid of the pain in my back, to get my strength back. In a dream world, I would have a tennis court in the house and play at will but, recognising how ludicrous that would be, I live near one. Only last week, me and Baby S followed a friendly practice with playing against the wall and I got so enthusiastic about it that I thought I had dislocated a rib the next day. I guess I will have to continue working on my shape.
But why does it matter if I love tennis? If I could go back in time with the knowledge I have today, I would probably have competed a bit more focusing on this love of tennis. Tennis is where I became more independent, where I met new friends outside school, and where I chose which person I wanted to be. It is also where I pushed my boundaries and I found people who saw that I had it in me to do more than a friendly match. Don’t get me wrong, I was never going to be on a slam, but it would have been nice to have tried to at least win a game of tennis.
So when I look at my kids and how competitive they are, I wonder how to give them the balance of loving the sport and being competitive without getting overwhelmed by the losses.
Love the process
My theory is that this balance can only be found in loving the process. Which is also another one of Federer’s lessons. To withstand all the lost points and the lost games, he highlights that he embraced the love for the game, the trainings, the routines and even the lifestyle. You know the good old saying “it is about the journey, not the destination“. Whether it’s on a court, in a pitch meeting, or launching a new idea—showing up and staying in the game despite the score is a skill in itself.
But let’s face it, this is not easy to teach this to kids, and let’s say my 8-year-old was not into “embracing the process”. He still felt 4th place was not enough. And he was convinced he had played badly. He loves his tennis but each setback hits him hard. It will take a while for him to register that he is just starting in this age group and that, more importantly, he is making huge strides. Hopefully, while enjoying his game.
Let’s be honest here, I am not the parent who goes for participation medals. But I do prize the effort put into the game and, importantly, the attitude and progress he continues to make. Despite all my efforts to make him see that this was part of the journey, he wanted none of it, and it was only out of politeness that he faked a smile for the group picture with his not-so-prized 4th place medal. No matter how much of the theory we know, it is unlikely that we can convince an 8-year-old who just lost a game that it is all about the journey.
Dare to be there
My kids know how I fared in my tennis competitions. I was very open to admitting how I twisted reality to avoid disappointment but I am also very open to sharing that I love tennis. We often play as a family and my focus during those times is to just enjoy the game. I fight my “parent hat” as I have a tendency to correct and coach and just try and be a player on the field.
However, when they choose to compete, I choose to support them even if I try to be as honest as can be. I am the first to celebrate them and the first to console them. But I also am realistic when it is time to talk about what needs to be better, if they value winning. I resist all their urges to blame someone else when things go wrong and hand them responsibility for what their next step can be. But I also fiercely resist their rabbit holes of dooming themselves to be failures when things go astray.
Last night, I had to remind Baby S that most people don’t win or lose. In reality, most people don’t compete. So just by showing up, he is being extremely brave and achieving more. That is perhaps the journey he can enjoy. Even knowing that sometimes it will feel nice and others not so nice. And it is something worth reminding ourselves of, even when we feel like we are losing.
Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome.
Brene Brown
Be it in business or in life, there is a great level of bravery required to be out there. To compete, to build a business, to develop a new product, to reinvent yourself. Roger Federer reminds us that it is only through enjoying the process and being conscious of the effort required along the way that we can truly get there. There is talent in a forehand, but there is also talent in having discipline, in having grit, in showing up every day.