( i thought this was rather interesting...and yes i ripped it off www.msn.com )
What I learned about love from my doubles partners
By Evan Rothman
Until I met Lorraine (my future wife) 18 months ago, I had always done better partner-wise on the tennis court than off it. Throughout my 20s and early 30s, my soul mate proved as elusive as Anna Kournikova’s quest for a singles title. So when I finally found The One, I looked for relationship guidance in the place where I’d excelled: Between the lines of the doubles court—and here's what I learned.
Love lesson #1: Confidence counts—a lot
Sensitivity’s nice, but don’t underestimate confidence in keeping a partner’s allegiance going strong. I'd first learned this playing with my doubles partner Tom. He was a year older and quite my opposite: A B-level player with a type-A personality. Tom’s unshakeable self-belief gave me confidence, and we went on to triumph on the court. I've learned this "believe in yourself" mantra works very well in the romance realm, too. Lorraine can be somewhat fragile, and I now remind myself that self-possession rubs off on those around it. How'd I handle it when we ran out of gas at dusk on a deserted country road? "We’re gonna make it, no problem, babe." (We did, barely, and phew.) Sometimes love requires some bluffing to buoy one another up.
Love lesson #2: Partner, don’t preach
Some of us serious types—myself included—need to have fun foisted upon us. I learned this on the courts in college where I was paired with our loosey-goosey senior team captain, Bill. While we were similarly hard-driving as players, our personalities couldn't have been more different. I was a moody perfectionist, which Bill handled by being even more relentlessly sunny than usual. At my stormiest, he’d grin and say, “Dude, c’mon now—chill.” It’s a tactic I rely on to help Lorraine cope when, say, she’s overwhelmed by work. My preferred funny move? A break-dancing routine that’s always awful enough to draw a laugh or, worst-case scenario, an Arnold Schwarzenegger impression that Lorraine insists sounds more like Heidi Klum.
Love lesson #3: Prepare to change roles
In romance as in sports, you have to stretch your boundaries a good bit. My senior season in high school I partnered with Owen, a pensive freshman. Our age difference and his shy demeanor dictated that I, another quiet type, step out of character and pilot our duo. For us to be successful, I needed to encourage Owen to come out of his shell—and it worked: We won the county championship. Now I follow the same plan with quiet, pensive Lorraine. I often check my natural reserve at the door, and, without going all Dr. Phil 24/7, I make it a point to prod her into social events whenever possible, where her innate friendliness and warmth always trump her reserve.
Love lesson #4: Find your comfort zone
They say opposites attract, but my two most successful partnerships have involved people almost more me than I myself am. On the tennis court, my best partner pairing was with Ed—a guy every bit as self-critical and invested in the game as I was. As a team, Ed and I understood each other’s weaknesses and worked around them. Neither of us was great at returning serves; we dinked and lobbed and found ways to play to our shot-making strengths. Mostly we trusted that our talents would outweigh our shortcomings. And so they did: We went undefeated until nationals, where we lost one round short of making All-American. I've found that Lorraine and I have that natural comfort level and way of supporting one another. We aren’t great talkers, and at first we would stress about any lulls in conversation. Now, if we listen to the radio for most of a three-hour drive, so be it. We know there'll be plenty of other times when conversation will flow easily. We’re not flawless, but as a team we’re very good and getting better all the time, and that’s what counts.
Evan Rothman is a New York-based writer whose work has appeared in The New York Times
What I learned about love from my doubles partners
By Evan Rothman
Until I met Lorraine (my future wife) 18 months ago, I had always done better partner-wise on the tennis court than off it. Throughout my 20s and early 30s, my soul mate proved as elusive as Anna Kournikova’s quest for a singles title. So when I finally found The One, I looked for relationship guidance in the place where I’d excelled: Between the lines of the doubles court—and here's what I learned.
Love lesson #1: Confidence counts—a lot
Sensitivity’s nice, but don’t underestimate confidence in keeping a partner’s allegiance going strong. I'd first learned this playing with my doubles partner Tom. He was a year older and quite my opposite: A B-level player with a type-A personality. Tom’s unshakeable self-belief gave me confidence, and we went on to triumph on the court. I've learned this "believe in yourself" mantra works very well in the romance realm, too. Lorraine can be somewhat fragile, and I now remind myself that self-possession rubs off on those around it. How'd I handle it when we ran out of gas at dusk on a deserted country road? "We’re gonna make it, no problem, babe." (We did, barely, and phew.) Sometimes love requires some bluffing to buoy one another up.
Love lesson #2: Partner, don’t preach
Some of us serious types—myself included—need to have fun foisted upon us. I learned this on the courts in college where I was paired with our loosey-goosey senior team captain, Bill. While we were similarly hard-driving as players, our personalities couldn't have been more different. I was a moody perfectionist, which Bill handled by being even more relentlessly sunny than usual. At my stormiest, he’d grin and say, “Dude, c’mon now—chill.” It’s a tactic I rely on to help Lorraine cope when, say, she’s overwhelmed by work. My preferred funny move? A break-dancing routine that’s always awful enough to draw a laugh or, worst-case scenario, an Arnold Schwarzenegger impression that Lorraine insists sounds more like Heidi Klum.
Love lesson #3: Prepare to change roles
In romance as in sports, you have to stretch your boundaries a good bit. My senior season in high school I partnered with Owen, a pensive freshman. Our age difference and his shy demeanor dictated that I, another quiet type, step out of character and pilot our duo. For us to be successful, I needed to encourage Owen to come out of his shell—and it worked: We won the county championship. Now I follow the same plan with quiet, pensive Lorraine. I often check my natural reserve at the door, and, without going all Dr. Phil 24/7, I make it a point to prod her into social events whenever possible, where her innate friendliness and warmth always trump her reserve.
Love lesson #4: Find your comfort zone
They say opposites attract, but my two most successful partnerships have involved people almost more me than I myself am. On the tennis court, my best partner pairing was with Ed—a guy every bit as self-critical and invested in the game as I was. As a team, Ed and I understood each other’s weaknesses and worked around them. Neither of us was great at returning serves; we dinked and lobbed and found ways to play to our shot-making strengths. Mostly we trusted that our talents would outweigh our shortcomings. And so they did: We went undefeated until nationals, where we lost one round short of making All-American. I've found that Lorraine and I have that natural comfort level and way of supporting one another. We aren’t great talkers, and at first we would stress about any lulls in conversation. Now, if we listen to the radio for most of a three-hour drive, so be it. We know there'll be plenty of other times when conversation will flow easily. We’re not flawless, but as a team we’re very good and getting better all the time, and that’s what counts.
Evan Rothman is a New York-based writer whose work has appeared in The New York Times
posted by just me in my world at 4:00 PM
