by Last night I played a singles match against the number one player in last season’s team. We played at the Lower Hutt club on an almost calm evening. Last year I would have fancied my chances of winning or at least coming close, but my form has dipped considerably since then and I really didn’t know what to expect. In the early stages last night I still didn’t. After losing the first two games I lost just one point in the next three combined as I took the lead. But the errors started to flow from my racket and my drive and determination just weren’t there. I was motivated to retrieve and place the ball, but I just wasn’t emotionally attached, unlike my opponent who I could tell was pumped. The score, which wasn’t a motivating factor for me, slowly but surely got away on me. A second-serve ace flew past me on set point as I lost the first set 6-3. I clung on to my serve in the opening game of the second set but lost a very long game immediately afterwards on the way to falling 4-1 behind. Despite all the long cat-and-mouse exchanges I’d lost eight games out of nine. I was often driven out wide on my backhand side. My opponent double-faulted twice in the sixth game of the set to throw me a lifeline, and I grabbed it, crawling all the way back to 5-all. I’d got my mojo back. At least I thought I had, but that mojo turned out to be a mirage. I dropped serve in a close eleventh game and played a tight final game to end up second best in a tick under 90 minutes.
I didn’t play that badly really, notwithstanding some ill-timed double faults and unforced errors. Lack of intensity, until it was almost too late, was my real downfall.
