A review by khorrocks
The Singles Game, by Lauren Weisberger
4.0
An interesting insight into the world of professional tennis (through the lens of a chick lit novel).
The beginning held a lot of promise: a talented tennis player, heading towards the top of her game has a major injury - what does her future hold? But then the middle just got muddled and the ending was rushed and unfulfilling.She made it to her first Grand Slam Final, and we're given a play-by-play, and yet she loses. But at the end of the book, she goes to the US Open and we're left hanging? And throughout the book we read on and on about her "relationship" with Marco (who treated her horribly), but when she finally gets together with Dan we get no details? What's the deal? . Overall, it made me glad I didn't continue with tennis after seventh grade tennis camp.
But more often the mental focus was about consistency. The ability to squash the insistent, horrible thoughts in your mind: the slippery grass; the opponent’s faster-than-expected serve; the raucous crowd; the twinge in your elbow; the lame line umpire; the idiot in the stands in a neon shirt who won’t sit down; the sweat in your eyes . . . On and on the mind went, cycling through all the assaulting sights and smells and sounds that competed for a player’s attention. Only a select few of the players—through practice, experience, and sheer determination—ever developed the mental toughness to tune it all out. It was why hundreds of them had the strokes and the game to win, and so few were actual winners.
The beginning held a lot of promise: a talented tennis player, heading towards the top of her game has a major injury - what does her future hold? But then the middle just got muddled and the ending was rushed and unfulfilling.
But more often the mental focus was about consistency. The ability to squash the insistent, horrible thoughts in your mind: the slippery grass; the opponent’s faster-than-expected serve; the raucous crowd; the twinge in your elbow; the lame line umpire; the idiot in the stands in a neon shirt who won’t sit down; the sweat in your eyes . . . On and on the mind went, cycling through all the assaulting sights and smells and sounds that competed for a player’s attention. Only a select few of the players—through practice, experience, and sheer determination—ever developed the mental toughness to tune it all out. It was why hundreds of them had the strokes and the game to win, and so few were actual winners.