Honestly? Felt like quitting tennis every day since my backyard strokes kept hitting the neighbor’s fence. Saw Top Spin Academy across the street last Tuesday, figured why not. Walked straight in wearing my old gym shoes—mistake number one.
The Warm-Up Disaster
Coach Mike tossed me a racket right away. “Show me your swing,” he said. Whacked an air shot so hard I nearly spun myself sideways. My wrist already felt like jelly. Mike just grinned: “Yeah, we’re fixing that.”
- Footwork first: Stood on these sticky dots while lunging sideways. Tripped twice.
- Racket grip: He forced my fingers into this weird “shaking hands” position. Awkward as heck.
- Ball toss drill: Tried bouncing balls on the racket. Six of ’em rolled under cabinets.
Actual Swing Practice
Mike fed balls soft at first. Swing! Whiffed. Swing! WHACKED the net pole. Embarrassing. He made me freeze mid-swing like a statue—elbow crooked, racket facing up—felt unnatural but worked.
Next hour:
- Pushed off back foot (not just swinging arms)
- Followed through after hitting (instead of stopping)
- Kept eyes glued to the ball (even when it zoomed past)
Arm started burning after five minutes. Mike yelled “USE YOUR LEGS!” like a broken record.
The “Breakthrough”
Twenty balls in, something clicked. Leaned into my step, twisted hips with the swing, and—POW—clean sound. Ball sailed over the net. Felt like a superhero for three seconds. Then next five shots flew into the curtains. Still… progress.
Wrapped up dripping sweat. Mike slapped my shoulder: “Less arms, more body. Stop being lazy with your feet.” Paid for ten sessions right then. My cheap shoes might’ve started peeling, but my backhand’s finally got some top spin. Neighbor’s fence is safe… for now.