So, I’ve been meaning to really knuckle down on my tennis game. It’s been ages, you know? My serve is okay, forehand decent, but my backhand… ugh, it’s just a mess. Always has been. And then I remembered Hong Chung. Yeah, Hong Chung. That guy could play. We used to knock balls around years ago, and he always had this annoyingly consistent game.
I figured, why not? So I gave Hong Chung a call. Took a bit of convincing, he’s a busy guy these days, but he agreed to hit some balls. Said he remembered my terrible backhand, which, ouch, but fair enough. We met up at the old courts, the ones with all the cracks we used to complain about. Still the same, mostly.
And let me tell you, that session with Hong Chung was something else. He didn’t just rally. Oh no. He made me work. He started by just feeding me balls to my backhand. Over and over. My arm was burning. My feet felt like lead. Most of my shots were either flying out or flopping into the net. It was pretty demoralizing, to be honest. I thought, maybe I’m just too old for this, maybe some things you just can’t fix.
Hong Chung, he just stood there. Not saying much at first. Just watching. Then he started with the pointers. Simple stuff, really. “Loosen your grip,” he’d say. Or, “Watch the ball all the way.” Stuff I’ve heard a million times. But coming from him, with him watching me shank another one, it felt different. More… pointed.
We spent what felt like hours on just that. Backhands. He’d demonstrate, smooth as silk, then I’d try, looking like a broken windmill. He wasn’t mean, not really, but he was relentless. He’d say things like, “You’re thinking too much. Just hit the darn ball.” Easier said than done, my friend.
There were a few moments, just a few, where I actually hit a decent backhand. Clean contact, good pace, landed in. And Hong Chung, he’d just nod. Not a big celebration, just a nod. But that nod, man, it felt like winning a small lottery. It made me want to hit another one just like it.
By the end, I was exhausted. Sweaty, sore, and my ego a bit bruised. But you know what? I also felt… something. Like a tiny little switch had been flicked. I wasn’t suddenly a backhand maestro, not by a long shot. But I felt like I actually understood something new, or maybe remembered something I’d forgotten a long time ago. It’s not just about hitting the ball; it’s about letting go of all the junk in your head.
So, yeah, my “hong chung tennis” practice. It was tough. Really tough. I’m probably going to be aching for days. But I’m going back. He agreed to another session. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment. Or maybe, just maybe, I actually want to get that backhand sorted. And Hong Chung, for all his quiet intensity, seems like the guy who might just be able to help me do it. We’ll see. I’ll keep you posted on how this goes. It’s a journey, right?
