Guangxun Jin | 金光勋 | 김광훈

As it happens, the activity center is offering a beginner tennis lesson. Since it’s summer, the lessons will take place on outdoor tennis courts.

As usual, I needed to get ready for the course first. The requirements were actually quite simple; basically, I just needed to buy a tennis racket. As for the tennis balls, the instructor will likely bring them to class. The course preparation guide only mentioned bringing a racket and didn’t note anything about balls, so I assume we don’t need to provide our own.

As I mentioned, I knew absolutely nothing about tennis, so buying a racket required some research. According to my investigation, if you want to be meticulous, there are many parameters to consider—such as head size, racket weight, balance point, material, and so on. These factors affect the power of the shot, stability, feel, and other aspects. However, as a total beginner who has never played tennis or even touched a tennis racket, these concepts seemed too abstract. It was impossible to choose based on them. Fortunately, there is a much simpler way for beginners to choose a racket: by grip size.

Grip sizes are usually represented by numbers, such as 0, 1, 2, 3, or 4. The larger the number, the larger and thicker the grip. If the grip is thick, you might need large hands to hold it properly. The specific method to check the fit is to hold the racket and see if the index finger of your other hand can fit snugly in the space between your ring finger and the base of your palm. If it doesn’t fit, the grip is too thin and may twist easily, leading to wrist fatigue. If the gap is too large, the grip is too thick, making it hard to exert power. Generally, men choose size 2 or 3, and women choose size 1 or 2; if you have no idea where to start, you can begin by trying out these sizes. Since I needed to test the feel, I went to a large sporting goods retailer to try them out and found that size 2 was likely the best fit for me.

Once the grip size was decided, I just had to pick a racket with that size from the store. There were various price points—the expensive ones could be 200 to 300 CAD, while the cheaper ones were around 40 to 50 CAD. As a total novice, I wouldn’t be able to distinguish the difference in feel, nor did I know if I would enjoy tennis or play it long-term, so I chose a cheaper racket. In the future, if I really fall in love with this sport and feel that the racket is truly hindering my progress, I can just upgrade then.

All that was left was to put on suitable tennis attire and prepare for sun protection. This part was much easier. I enjoy working out, so I already have some athletic wear. As for sun protection, wearing a hat and applying sunscreen should do the trick. After all, the Winnipeg sun is quite intense, and since I tan or burn easily, sun protection is a must. I originally thought about wearing sunglasses, but then I figured that since I’d already be wearing a hat for shade and would be running around a lot, it would be better not to wear glasses at all and just stick with contact lenses. If the glare is still too much after a lesson or two, it won’t be too late to start wearing sunglasses then.

After all, I was looking forward to the class starting.

Finally, it was time for the first tennis lesson. Although I frequent the activity center, I had never been to the outdoor courts. I even made a point to arrive early to scout out the exact location of the courts and the parking lot.

When the lesson began, the instructors gave a brief self-introduction. There were two of them: a head instructor and an assistant. From the way they spoke, they seemed quite kind and approachable. There were about 15 to 20 students in total.

The instructor started by leading us through some warm-ups and stretches. He mentioned that he might lead these for the first two or three lessons, but after that, we could do them on our own before the lesson. I thought that made sense; lesson time is limited, so there’s no need to waste it on stretching. It’s not that these aren’t important, but if I do them before the lesson starts, can’t I save those few minutes and get more playing time? I won’t go into detail about the warm-ups and stretches since most sports warm-ups are fairly universal, though tennis does emphasize lateral movement, shoulder rotation, and wrist flexibility.

Next, the instructor led us through some simple “ball-feel” activities. We held the racket face parallel to the ground, tapped the ball upward, let it bounce once on the ground, and tapped it up again, repeating this to get a sense of the ball. I should mention that there are different types of tennis balls. There are pressurized balls used for matches, and then there are transition balls for beginners like us. We were likely using the “green dot” balls for adult beginners, which look like standard balls but have a solid green dot on them. They travel a bit slower than standard balls. While we practiced this simple hitting exercise, the instructor even had us compete to see who could get the most consecutive taps.

Afterward, the instructor taught us a specific racket grip. He told us to imagine a hammer and then treat the tennis racket as that hammer, with the edges of the frame being the two sides of the hammerhead. Gripping the racket this way is known as the Continental grip. We’ll be using this a lot later on. We also learned the Ready Position: the basic stance in tennis where your feet are slightly wider than shoulder-width, knees slightly bent, weight on the balls of your feet, and the racket held in front of you, ready to “split-step” the moment your opponent hits the ball.

(Image of the Ready Position)

Then we learned another grip: placing the racket flat on the ground and pressing your palm against the very bottom part of the handle. Picking it up at that angle gives you the Western grip. Then, we used this for the forehand stroke, which is the stroke used to hit the ball with the front of the racket. When you judge the ball is coming to your forehand side, your right foot steps out first, driving your hips and shoulders to rotate right until your body is completely sideways to the net. Meanwhile, your left hand points toward the incoming ball to help with balance. As you turn, your arm pulls the racket back, locking the wrist to form a stable “L” shape with the handle to ensure the racket face stays steady. At the moment of impact, you push off with your right foot to rotate your body forward, and the racket brushes the ball from low to high in front of your side to create heavy topspin. Finally, the racket follows through over the opposite shoulder (don’t stop the arm at the point of impact). The move ends with your elbow facing the net and the racket head resting naturally behind your back.

(Image of the Forehand)

Next, we learned the backhand stroke. There are one-handed and two-handed versions. The instructor noted that while most people use a two-handed backhand stroke. He would briefly mention it, but focus our specific instruction and practice on the one-handed backhand. First, the grip has to change: starting from the forehand grip, you rotate the racket to the left (counter-clockwise). This is the Eastern backhand grip. When you see the ball coming to the backhand side, your left hand quickly supports the neck of the racket to help the right hand switch grips, while your left foot steps out to rotate the body until the right shoulder is fully facing the net. During the take-back, the arm pulls back, and the racket is held vertically, locked in an “L” shape with the wrist, with your weight on the back foot. As you start the swing, your right foot steps forward firmly to lock the hips, and your arm swings out like a sword using the shoulder as the axis, keeping the arm completely straight at the point of impact in front of you. After hitting the ball, the racket continues its follow-through upward and to the right, with both arms spreading out like a giant bird’s wings, ending with the body stabilized sideways and the chest pointing toward the side rather than the net.

(Image of the One-handed Backhand)

We practiced these movements repeatedly with the instructors, starting from isolated motions to moving from the ready position into the strokes. Then, we found partners to feed each other balls—one person tosses the ball by hand, and the other hits it using the techniques we learned. Since we’re just starting, we can’t actually rally with rackets yet. When it was time to find a partner, I turned around and a girl was right behind me, wanting to team up. Perfect. She seemed very lively and extroverted, quite different from me. However, when I’m doing something I enjoy, I don’t stay as serious or unsmiling as I am at work. I act differently—more talkative. I’ve realized lately that I probably have a “work mode” and a “life mode.” While practicing with my partner, I stayed smiling and friendly. It’s only on days when I’m poorly rested or exhausted that I might go into “power-saving mode.”

During practice, the two instructors went around correcting each student. I noticed a few problems of my own. For one, I couldn’t control my power—I kept wanting to hit the ball hard, which made the ball fly upward instead of forward. A few balls even flew right over the fence of the court! Other times, I’d miss the ball entirely. Another issue was the follow-through; I kept forgetting to finish the swing. Often, as soon as the racket hit the ball, I’d just stop my arm while I should swing my arm over the shoulder. As for the different grips, I couldn’t remember them at all in the moment. I just remembered to “hold it like a hammer” and ignored everything else. 😓

Another partner exercise involved both of us standing on the same side, quite close to the fence (about two or three meters away). My partner would drop the ball in front of me, and I would hit it with a forehand or backhand. This allowed for many more repetitions in a short time. After a few hits, we’d swap.

After the partner drills, we split into two courts. One instructor took charge of each court, and we formed two lines. One line practiced forehands, and the other practiced one-handed backhands. The instructor fed us balls from the other side of the net. Once everyone finished a round, we swapped lines to practice the other stroke. It’s worth noting that for this drill, we waited in the forehand or backhand stance rather than transitioning from the ready position. It was the same during the partner drills. In this part, I tried my best to consciously control my power. It was a tiny bit better than when I practiced with my partner, but I still frequently forgot to complete the follow-through.

When time was up, we began picking up the tennis balls and putting them into the hopper. I’d guess there were at least 200 balls. And with that, the first tennis lesson was over.

This was my first time ever touching tennis—and it was for learning, not an actual match. As for my impression or whether I like it, I can’t really say yet; it’s just the beginning and I know too little. But I have a feeling that tennis is going to be very interesting. We’ll see how it goes.

In the following lesson, we moved on to tennis footwork.

In the ready position, as mentioned before, you take a light split-step—hopping slightly and landing with bent knees and a low center of gravity. This keeps you ready to spring toward the ball. Once you judge the direction of the ball, if it’s far away, you use cross-over steps (where one foot crosses over the other) to cover ground quickly. After moving to the general hitting area, you use small adjustment steps to find the precise positioning for the shot. Finally, after hitting the ball, you recover to your starting position.

After getting the hang of the footwork, we paired up with partners to combine these movements with the strokes we learned earlier. The instructor didn’t assign fixed partners, but most people naturally gravitated back to their previous ones unless they were absent. This time, instead of hand-tossing, we hit the balls over the net with our rackets. When the ball was returned, we continued to play it back. While getting used to hitting on the move, we tried to sustain the rallies for as many hits as possible.

Since we were so new to this sport and couldn’t quite grasp the basic rhythm, the instructor had us shout out the actions of the ball and the hit—for example, “Bounce—Hit!”—to help us find the timing.

During practice, I noticed I was still hitting “moonballs”—the balls would fly high and land well past the baseline. The instructor corrected me, saying that my racket face was angled too far upward at impact. He demonstrated the correct angle: starting from a position where the racket face is flat toward the net, it should be tilted slightly downward, about 10 to 20 degrees. I practiced with this in mind, consciously controlling the racket angle, and the trajectory of my shots improved significantly, though it still felt a bit awkward.

Another issue I discovered was a strange feeling when hitting after running to the ball. The stroke didn’t feel like what I had been taught, and the angle of the ball was off. After a few repetitions, I realized that I was facing the net while running, and when it came time to hit, I was swinging the racket while still facing forward instead of turning sideways in my haste. No wonder it felt wrong. I tried to consciously turn my body before hitting, but I often felt I didn’t have enough time to do it. Later, I learned that unless the ball is so far that you need cross-over steps, you should generally turn your body first and then move toward the ball. Once you reach the area and use small steps to adjust, you can swing immediately because you are already in a sideways stance.

Besides hitting on the move, the instructor also taught us some basic tennis trivia. As I mentioned before, the scoring in a single game goes 0-15-30-40. If you win a point after 40, the umpire calls “Game!”, meaning that side officially wins a point toward the set. During a single game, one side serves consistently rather than the players alternating. The serve only switches sides after a “game” is completed. Also, a score of zero is called “Love” instead of “zero.” This is quite unique. It’s said that because a zero looks like an egg, and the French word for egg (l’oeuf) sounds similar to the English word “love,” zero became “love” in tennis.

Then, the instructor had every two pairs of partners “compete” on a court. One side would serve consistently and we scored according to standard tennis rules until someone won the “game,” then the other side would serve. As for positioning, based on the center line, two players stood on each side. The server stood behind the baseline, while the non-server stood closer to the net in the middle of their half. The opposing team took up similar positions to return the serve. Normally, serving has its own specific technique, but since we hadn’t learned it yet, we just used a simple forehand to put the ball in play.

The instructor required us to shout out the score every time someone won a point. For instance, if one side scored first, we’d yell “Fifteen-Love!” I was quite active in calling out the score at first, but then I thought I should give others a chance to speak. After the first few times, I waited for others to call it out, only stepping in if they were stuck. Once, while I was waiting, I figured that since someone else had already called it, there was no need for me to repeat it. The instructor then came up to me and asked what the score was. I said the other person was correct, but he insisted that I say the numbers, so I repeated the score as he asked. Then he told me: “From now on, you’ll be the one calling the score.” At that moment, I felt like the instructor actually had quite high expectations for me. I’m not being sarcastic—I didn’t feel like he was being difficult; I genuinely felt that he really wanted to teach me well.

The session ended shortly after that. While I’ve made some small progress, I still haven’t developed a great “feel” for the ball. Moreover, I feel like I can’t put full power into my shots. After learning why the ball always flies upward, I adjusted my racket angle and tried to hit harder, but I still couldn’t get the ball to fly out with real force. It’s probably because I’m not yet familiar with the feel of the racket.

In any case, I still can’t quite put my finger on what tennis is all about. I’ll need to observe and practice for longer to truly understand it.

In the subsequent lessons, we successively learned several different hitting techniques: the volley, the overhead smash, and the lob.

A volley is when you hit the ball back before it touches the ground, usually while positioned near the net. The movement is short and crisp. Its core lies in using the opponent’s incoming power for a precise rebound, utilizing a fast-paced rhythm to catch the opponent off guard. The key to a volley is simplifying the motion; you must avoid the large backswing used in baseline strokes. You need to turn your body slightly sideways to the net, keep your wrist firm and slightly cocked, and hold the racket up at a slight vertical tilt so the racket face forms a small angle. Use a short, “punching” or “chipping” motion to meet the ball. At the moment of impact, your center of gravity should shift forward as you step with your dominant foot, using your body weight to block the ball back rather than relying on an arm swing.

(Image of the Volley)

The instructor emphasized using your footwork to counter the ball, not swinging the racket. During our specific drills, he required us to take one step forward as we hit the ball, followed by two more steps. Of course, you don’t need to do this during an actual match, but as a beginner, it is crucial to remember that quick forward step. Volleys are also divided into forehand and backhand. For the backhand volley, you position the racket to the left of your right hand, also slightly tilted, with the back of the racket forming a small angle with the front. When the ball comes, step forward to block it back. For the backhand, you can use your non-dominant hand to support the “throat” (the triangular part) of the racket.

(Image of the Backhand Volley)

I found this technique relatively simple because once you find the drop point, you just step forward and block it. In addition to practicing with partners, the two instructors each took a court and had the students form three lines to practice volleys from different angles as they fed us balls.

Next, we learned the overhead smash. A smash is typically used against a high ball hit by the opponent; you strike it with a downward, heavy blow from high in the air, much like a serve. It is the most dominant offensive tool in tennis, designed to end the point immediately with absolute power and height. The mechanics are similar to a serve (which I’ll discuss later), but with more emphasis on timing and positioning. When a high ball comes, turn sideways, quickly pull the racket back (in a “scratching the back” motion), and use your non-dominant hand to point toward the ball in the sky to track its location. The contact point should be in front and to the right of your body; at the highest point, snap your forearm and wrist downward to ensure the shot is not only powerful but also steeply angled.

(Image of the Overhead Smash)

The two instructors again split us into two courts. We formed three lines, and they fed us balls to practice smashing. The smash felt much harder than the volley. First, even though my non-dominant hand (my left hand) was constantly pointing at the high ball, I often failed to make the ball contacts with the racket. I used to think I just couldn’t find the right position, but I later discovered another reason—though I’ll save that for a later chapter. Another issue was that even when I did hit the ball, it lacked power. I couldn’t generate that explosive force you see in professional matches on TV. Hitting the ball felt more like I was just awkwardly pushing it with the racket, resulting in a weak return. I noticed some classmates hitting smashes that flew upward; this happened because their racket faces were angled up, but I didn’t have that particular problem. Even after practice, I still felt like I hadn’t quite grasped it.

Finally, we learned the lob. A lob uses an upward arc to send the ball over the opponent’s head and land near the baseline. It can buy you time to recover your position when you’re on the defensive, or serve as a clever tactic when an opponent approaches the net, neutralizing their threat by changing the spatial dimension of the game. The key to a lob is racket face control and an upward lift. At the moment of impact, the racket face should be slightly open and swung diagonally upward to give the ball enough vertical lift. If you’re defending, you mainly rely on a slice or a flat block to increase the arc and gain time to recover.

(Image of the Lob)

As I mentioned before, I used to hit balls that flew very high and far. Logically, the lob shouldn’t have been that difficult since it’s essentially making the ball go high and far. But in practice, it wasn’t as simple as I imagined. The ball doesn’t just need to go high; it has to land inside the lines. Lacking experience, I couldn’t judge how much force to use to make the ball go high without flying out of bounds. As a result, the ball often ended up in inexplicable places. The instructor gave us specific lob training, but I still didn’t feel particularly proficient.

Out of these three techniques, only the volley felt like it was going well. The success of the other two basically fell into the category of “depending on luck.” All in all, after learning these techniques, I had better ways to handle the “game sessions.” There was a game session in almost every tennis lesson, and I really enjoyed and looked forward to them. I will talk more about that in the next chapter.

During our tennis practice, the instructor uses various formats to help us improve. One method, as mentioned before, involves splitting us into several lines at different positions on the court. The instructor then feeds us balls so we can practice specific techniques from various spots. Another method is shadow tennis—or rather, practicing with bare hands. That’s right: no rackets, just using our hands.

For example, after learning the forehand, backhand, and footwork, the instructor has us set our rackets aside at the beginning of lesson. We then pair up and toss the ball to our partner using both hands, mimicking the motion of a groundstroke. The goal is to toss the ball to a spot where you could score, making it difficult for your partner to catch. After tossing, you immediately recover to the center to prepare for the next ball. When catching, once you secure the ball with both hands, you stay in place and toss it back, simulating the state of receiving a shot. This helps us familiarize ourselves with where to hit the ball and where to stand after each shot.

We use a similar bare-hand drill for the overhead smash. This time, we toss with one hand since a smash is a one-handed motion. It’s similar to a baseball pitching motion—but only similar, not identical. The arm is raised high and then swung downward, mimicking a smash. However, instead of throwing the ball hard downward or forward, you toss it upward. After the release, the throwing arm follows through completely, crossing in front of the body toward the left side (if throwing with the right hand). The partner must judge the position of the high toss and catch it with both hands. Catching a high ball with one hand is actually quite difficult, so we used both hands. This drill helps us get used to the smash motion and judging the drop point of high balls.

Another training method consists of various games. In essence, these games are a way to practice tennis through “light competition.” During these sessions, the instructor generally doesn’t play but stands aside to observe and provide guidance.

One game involves about six or more pairs across multiple courts, rallying back and forth with rackets as if playing a real match. We count our consecutive hits. Once we reach a rally of four, we alert the instructor and rotate to the court on our left. For the next round, the required number of hits increases to six. Each time we move, the required rally count increases by two. After several rotations, the teams on the far-left court are those with the highest rally counts. If your rallies keep failing or you’re slower than others, you get pushed toward the far-right courts.

There are also more competitive games. For instance, after learning the volley, we practice it through a game. One side stands at the service mark and puts the ball in play with a forehand. Although there’s a standard serve, we haven’t learned it yet, so we use a simple forehand instead. The other side stands directly at the net to perform a volley. If the volley is successful, a “live ball” point begins, and we use any technique we want to score.

We do something similar for the overhead smash. One side stands at the baseline while the other stands at the net, waiting to smash. The difference here is that the server doesn’t hit the ball; instead, the instructor feeds a high lob. Given our current skill level, it’s difficult for us to consistently hit accurate lobs for the net player. If the net player successfully smashes the ball, the point continues until someone scores. If the smash fails, that team loses the point. During this game, I realized that while smashing is great training, returning a smash is also a challenge—the ball comes back much faster and at steeper angles.

While those games are specific to certain techniques, there is one game we play in the last 15 minutes of almost every lesson. I can’t quite recall the name—it’s something like “King of the Court” or “Who is the King.” This happens to me often: I’ll do something many times but never catch the name. It’s like people you see and interact with frequently but never ask for their names, or gym exercises I’ve done for years without knowing what they’re called! 😅

The rules are simple. We usually split into two courts, with one instructor per court. There’s no interaction between the two courts. Two volunteers go to the far side as the “Kings.” The rest of us line up in two lines on the near side. The first person in each line becomes partners for that turn. In these light competitive games, we don’t have fixed partners like we do in drills. The challengers serve, and if they win two consecutive points, they swap places with the Kings and become the new Kings. If the Kings win, the next pair of challengers steps up.

I really enjoy these games because they combine light competition with a feel for real tennis. During these sessions, I feel my court awareness is decent—I know where to run and where to wait for the ball; I don’t just stand there lost. However, I often feel “scrambled.” When it’s time to actually hit the ball, I rely more on instinct than 100% on the techniques I’ve learned. Even if a situation calls for a specific shot, I can’t think of it in time and just hit the ball randomly. I just remember having a great time, even if I don’t remember exactly what happened… probably because I didn’t really know what I was doing! 😅

Next, we learned the serve. I was quite curious—doesn’t a tennis match usually start with a serve? Why are we only learning it now?

When serving, first, you need to stand sideways behind the baseline with your feet shoulder-width apart. The racket hand hangs naturally, while the other hand holds the ball ready. Then, both arms begin a synchronized movement: the tossing hand extends to lift the ball steadily upward while the racket hand brings the racket up and back. Simultaneously, your weight shifts to the back foot as you bend your knees to load power. This specific pose is called the Trophy Position, because it’s the exact silhouette seen on tennis trophies.

(Image of trophy position)

As the ball reaches its peak and begins to drop, the player pushes off the ground to drive the rotation of the hips and shoulders. The player then explodes upward with the whole body, fully extending the arm to strike the ball at the highest point in front of the body. Finally, the player’s momentum carries them into the court, and the racket hand naturally follows through across the side of the body, completing the entire sequence in one fluid rhythm.

If you are unsure where to toss the ball, you can first place your racket flat on the ground. Point the handle straight ahead, then rotate it 45 degrees to the right. The position of the handle indicates where the ball should land if dropped. That is exactly where you should toss the ball straight up.

After practicing the toss and the Trophy Position, we officially began practicing the actual strike. We first stood a few dozen centimeters in front of the perimeter fence. We tossed the ball, struck the pose, and extended our arms to “pin” the ball against the fence with the racket. After familiarizing ourselves with the contact point this way, we moved onto the court.

During practice, the instructor noted: when serving, the ball must travel diagonally. If I stand on the right side of the baseline, the ball must land in the service box on the opponent’s right side (diagonal to me); if I stand on the left, it must land in the service box on the opponent’s left. The ball must land within the area between the net and the service line, and specifically on the side of the center service line that is diagonal to the server.

I followed the instructions, but having never served on a court before, I had no point of reference. Once I actually started, I realized something was off. First, the sensation of hitting the ball felt very similar to the overhead smash—I couldn’t seem to generate enough power. My arm felt weak and “mushy” during the strike. However, unlike the smash, I didn’t experience issues with missing the ball entirely. This might be because a smash requires moving and is often executed in a rush, whereas a serve is performed calmly from a stationary position. Also, controlling the landing spot felt like a fairy tale. Just getting the ball over the net was hard enough, let alone landing it in the valid area. After many attempts, I managed one decent serve. The instructor happened to see it and praised me, saying, “That’s exactly how you do it.” But honestly, I had no idea how I did it; it was pure luck.

During this time, the instructor told us that the serve is the most difficult technique for beginners. Not just for novices—even some experienced players struggle with it.

We then continued practicing through games. Both sides would get ready, and one team would serve. This time, it was a formal serve, not a forehand. However, if someone failed to serve successfully after two or three tries, they could switch to a forehand serve just to keep the game moving. As you can imagine, the success rate of our serves was entirely up to fate. I did, however, learn the positioning for the start of a match. When serving, you stand at the very back of the court, the baseline; do not step on the line. The first point is served from the right side. At this time, the teammate stands behind the service line in the middle of the left half of the court. The opponents take up the same formation, with the person diagonal to the server in a receiving position. For the second point, you serve from the left side, and teammates and opponents swap their respective positions accordingly.

After the serve practice, I realized it is indeed very difficult to pull off. You don’t just have to hit the ball; you have to make it land in a specific zone—not to mention hitting it with power like an experienced player. I now understand why the serve wasn’t taught at the very beginning; it makes a lot of sense.

The final lesson didn’t introduce any new techniques; instead, we practiced what we had learned through various games. Then the class ended, marking the conclusion of this entire beginner tennis course.

When I first decided to learn tennis, it was out of curiosity. Throughout the learning process, I gradually developed a genuine interest in it. However, I still feel like I don’t know how to play at all. Although I’ve learned the fundamental techniques, they feel more like theoretical knowledge. It’s not that we didn’t practice; on the contrary, we were practicing the whole time and didn’t just learn the theory. So why do I feel this way? I can clearly sense that it’s because I simply haven’t had enough exposure. The entire process only lasted two months, and I never practiced outside of class (I’ll elaborate on this in the summary chapter). Therefore, I only have the theory in my head; my body hasn’t caught up yet, and the muscle memory hasn’t formed.

I can clearly feel that tennis is a very interesting sport, but the prerequisite is that I have to “get over the hump.” It’s just like fighting games. The reason fighting games have become a niche genre is that the learning curve is too steep. They are actually very fun, but only after you’ve put in the work to learn how to play. I feel like I’m a fast learner when it comes to sports, especially since I exercise consistently. But my current tennis level is clearly insufficient—it doesn’t even feel like I’ve reached the “entry level.” While playing those games in class, I felt more than once that if I were just a bit more proficient, this would be so much more fun.

I don’t want to learn something and come away feeling like I still know nothing—especially a sport where I can clearly sense the potential for immense enjoyment. It’s just that I haven’t spent enough time with it yet. Besides, I really love the feeling of playing tennis with others; I finished this course wanting more. So, I decided to extend my learning period. After expressing my gratitude to the two instructors at the end of the session, I consulted the head instructor. I asked which course I should sign up for if I wanted to continue. He said, “I suggest you sign up for the beginner course again.” I followed up by asking, “I’ve already taken the beginner course; can I sign up for the intermediate one?” He replied, “If all the beginner classes are full, you could take the intermediate one, but I’d still recommend the beginner level.”

I thought about it after I got home. Although I’ve already taken the beginner course, my skills aren’t even at the entry level yet. Jumping into an intermediate class would make me feel completely out of my depth. Since the instructor also recommended the beginner level, I think that’s the right move. Shortly after, I signed up for the beginner class again, ready to start my second round of tennis.

At this closing point, I should be summarizing my own progress, but I think it would be better to summarize the first and second rounds together. Therefore, I’ll save my self-reflection for the final summary chapter.

After signing up for the same lesson course, I started attending beginner tennis lessons once more.

I was wondering whether any classmates from the previous course had also re-enrolled like me. But after everyone gathered for the first lesson, I realized there were no familiar faces from before—everyone was new. Interestingly, in the previous course, the number of male and female students was roughly equal. This time, however, out of more than a dozen students, only another person and I were male; the rest were all female. By the way, I did see two classmates from my previous beginner class in the intermediate tennis lesson scheduled right after ours.

The course content was basically similar to before. It wasn’t exactly the same, but overall, there wasn’t much difference.

During the first lesson, when we were doing the racket ball-bouncing exercise, I felt very comfortable controlling the ball. I could naturally adjust my body height to follow it. The assistant instructor even asked if I had been practicing on my own outside of class, because my control was quite good—but in reality, I had never practiced tennis outside of class.

Later, it was time to find partners for practice. It seemed someone hadn’t shown up for the first lesson, so the number of students was odd, meaning someone would be left without a partner. Everyone started pairing up with people nearby. I looked around to see if anyone near me needed a partner, and in the end, there were three of us left, including me. The three of us looked at each other, but no one took the initiative—probably because no one wanted to leave someone else out. So I spoke up and said to the two of them, “You two can pair up.” Then I went to the instructor and told them I didn’t have a partner. At first, the assistant instructor practiced with me, but she also had to look after the other students. Eventually, I ended up forming a temporary group of three with the two people I had told to pair up earlier, and we practiced together. Since I had already trained for two months before, when I restarted practicing forehand and backhand shots, everything felt much smoother than before. I wasn’t nearly as clumsy as I had been the first time.

By the second lesson, the person who had missed the first lesson showed up—a female student, which meant our class was almost entirely female. I went up to her and asked if she had a partner, and if not, we could team up. From then on, we were more or less regular partners. However, this class was quite different from the previous one. In almost every lesson, one or two people would be absent, and sometimes new people would join midway through the course. For example, there was an older lady coming to learn tennis with one hand injured and wrapped in a bandage. She hadn’t been in our class initially but joined later. Because of this, partners weren’t fixed and would often change. If your partner didn’t show up, you’d find someone else, which sometimes led to groups of three again.

After that, we followed the same sequence as before, learning techniques like volleys, overhead smashes, and lobs. The second time around, my understanding of these techniques was very different from the first. I could already use them quite naturally, and during practice, I performed very well each time. My volleys had already been decent before, but now they felt even more effortless. I didn’t miss a single ball fed by the instructor. Overhead smashes had felt difficult before, but this time they surprisingly felt smooth. Especially during the second round of learning, I figured out why I used to swing at the ball but still miss it so often. When hitting, you need to rotate your wrist to adjust the angle of the racket so that a larger surface area makes contact with the ball. Otherwise, it’s easy to miss completely—which is exactly what used to happen because I wasn’t rotating my wrist at all. After realizing this, not only did my smash success rate improve significantly, but I was also able to control the general direction of my shots. Whether practicing on my own or hitting balls fed by the instructor, I could produce solid smashes. As for lobs, I also improved quite a bit. Before, it was basically just hit-and-hope, but now I can roughly control the strength of my shots. However, I still can’t precisely control where the ball lands—only approximately. The landing point is still somewhat inconsistent.

My improved proficiency in these techniques also showed clearly during the games we played in class. Compared to before, my positioning during matches improved a lot, and I no longer had the habit of always leaning forward during forehand or backhand shots. I could also independently use volleys and overhead smashes during light competition, and I was often on the side with the higher score. My team won quite frequently. Especially during the “King” game, I could often hold onto the king position. Interestingly, since most of the class consisted of female students, we changed the name from “King” to “Queen”—like “Who is the Queen.”

At the same time, I also learned some rule-related things that I hadn’t encountered before. Once, we were playing doubles. The ball was heading to my teammate’s side. Two teammates stand on the left and right sides respectively, and based on the center line, each person is responsible for their own area. But because I felt I was playing well and was quite confident, I wanted to go over to my teammate’s side to hit the ball. Since it was a bit far, I didn’t manage to hit it. At that moment, the instructor came over and said to me, “When the ball lands in your teammate’s area, let her take it. You need to trust your teammate.” That’s when it suddenly clicked for me—I was taking my teammate’s ball. I shouldn’t try to take someone else’s shot just because I want to win. In fact, that’s also a sign of not trusting your teammate—because subconsciously I thought she might miss, I ran over to take the shot. After that, I basically stopped going in front of my teammates to hit the ball. I chose to trust them, even if they might actually miss. But this only means I don’t take their shots—I will still go for saves. Once, one of my teammates missed the ball. I reacted quickly, ran behind her, and managed to return the ball and score. This kind of saving play is completely different from taking someone else’s shot—it’s actually encouraged, because it’s part of teamwork where teammates act as support for each other. She was surprised and said, “You saved me!” I didn’t react in time and just smiled at her. Later, I realized I should have said, “That’s teamwork!”

During the Queen game segment, even though I really wanted to keep winning, sometimes my teammates were less experienced. When the ball went to their side, I really wanted to go hit it, because based on earlier performance, I felt there was a high chance she might miss. But I still wouldn’t take their shots. At most, I would look for a chance to save the ball from behind.

There was another time when the other side hit a high lob, and I was at the net ready for a smash. But the ball was too close to the net, and I almost had to lean onto it. So I held the net with my left hand and hit the smash with my right hand, successfully scoring the point. The instructor then told me, “Great smash, but I may not have mentioned this before—you can’t touch the net. If you touch the net, you lose the point. But it was indeed a great smash.” That’s when I learned that in tennis, no matter how close the ball is to the net, you still can’t touch it. If I hadn’t touched the net, that smash would have been a really clean point.

During this period, because I was performing well, some classmates asked me if I had played tennis before, since I seemed quite skilled. I told them I had taken this beginner tennis course before and was now taking it again. They said they wanted to take it again too 😁

Later, we got to the serving section, which is of course the most difficult part. As expected, it was hard for everyone to produce a proper serve. But surprisingly, I was able to hit some pretty good serves. When we lined up to practice, my serves often cleared the net and even landed in the target area. But in reality, I didn’t feel like I was consciously controlling the direction—the ball just ended up going there. Also, even though I felt like I wasn’t putting that much power into the shot, when the racket hit the ball, it often made that solid “bang” sound, as if it connected very cleanly. A classmate next to me even said she liked the sound of my shots. Later, when practicing cross-court serves with my partner from a distance, most of my serves could still reach her side successfully. It felt very strange—clearly I felt like my serves were mostly “half based on luck,” but the ball just kept going where it was supposed to 🫠

Toward the final lesson, we were grouped into fours, playing two-on-two. We followed actual tennis rules, starting from the serve, and played properly according to the rules—only switching servers after a full “game.” That day, the number of people who showed up was exactly a multiple of four plus one, meaning there was one extra person. And that extra person happened to be me 😅 The instructor then needed to find three more people for me. So where would those three people come from? Not out of nowhere, actually—there were plenty of people waiting by the side of the court. Some were there for the next intermediate tennis course, while others were just waiting for a free court to play. The instructor called out to them, “I need three volunteers to play tennis,” and a few people quickly stepped forward to join me. One of them was even someone who had taken the beginner course with me before and was now attending the intermediate tennis course. The scene—people playing on the court while a group waited on the sidelines, and when players were needed, several would step up—felt a lot like playing basketball back in high school. I really liked that atmosphere, and it made me nostalgic.

I was facing players who were at a higher level than me, which meant I could really go all out. I started with the serve. My serve success rate was around 60%—not great, but better than I expected. Once the serve went in, we played normally. What surprised me was that I could actually keep up with them and rally back and forth. After a few rounds, I felt a bit embarrassed always being the one to serve and thought I should let them serve as well. But they said they were there to play with me, and that I was the main one being trained, so I could keep serving. Then my teammate even told me, “You’re the main player.” So I really became the main player on our team, running all over the court. At that moment, I truly felt that familiar sensation of being out of breath—but this time, it felt incredibly satisfying. As the saying goes, a blessing in disguise—the fact that I was the extra person turned out to be a great opportunity.

At the end, the instructor signaled that it was time to wrap up and asked us to gather. Before leaving, I went over to ask the three of them whether they were taking the intermediate tennis course. Since I was able to rally with them (though they might have been going easy on me), I wanted to know if I had reached the level to join an intermediate class. One of them said yes (the one who had taken the beginner course with me before), while the other two said they had taken intermediate course a long time ago and were just there to play tennis that day. I thanked them for playing with me, then went back to join the group.

If during my first time learning, I only sensed the potential appeal of tennis and felt it should be interesting but hadn’t quite reached that point yet, then the second time made me much more certain of its appeal. It really is a very enjoyable sport, and I looked forward to every game and light competition during lessons. Like many other sports, tennis relies on muscle memory. During my first time learning, I didn’t understand tennis very well, so I missed some details. My body hadn’t developed muscle memory yet, and I wasn’t familiar with using the racket. So even after finishing, I still felt confused. But the second time, I was able to notice details I had missed before, building on what I already knew. My control over the racket also gradually reached a point where I could handle it more naturally. That’s why my improvement during the second time was very fast.

Let me add one more thing. During the second round, since there were about two more lessons than the first time, we learned a technique that hadn’t been covered before: the backhand slice. First, you switch to a continental grip and turn your body sideways, bringing the racket up high above your shoulder. When hitting the ball, you “brush” across the bottom of the ball from high to low and from back to front, extending forward as if swinging along a slope, rather than chopping straight down vertically.

(Image of backhand slice)

At this point, I can say for sure that I want to continue exploring tennis—it’s a very enjoyable sport. So at the end, after thanking the instructor again, I asked whether I should sign up for a beginner or intermediate tennis course if I wanted to continue. This time, the instructor answered very firmly: “You should take the intermediate tennis course.” He didn’t even give me the option of the beginner course, which shows that my skills had indeed improved quite a bit. Then I asked if there were any tennis clubs suitable for beginners. I felt that just taking lessons wasn’t quite enough, but if I tried to find people to play with on my own, I might still be too much of a beginner and end up being a burden. So I specifically asked about beginner-friendly clubs. The instructor said there weren’t clubs specifically for beginners, but there were some good tennis clubs, and he listed a few for me.

And that’s how the second round came to an end. As for what comes next, I’ll talk about it in the final Conclusion.

First of all, I managed to achieve perfect attendance this time. When it comes to writing about learning-related topics, or anything that requires consistent attendance, you might notice that I care quite a bit about whether I’ve actually shown up every time. One reason is that, as I mentioned in some of my previous articles, during my university years—especially in the earlier period—there were classes where I didn’t maintain full attendance. Because of that, I lost points that I really shouldn’t have lost, and I feel regret about my lack of maturity back then. I don’t want something like that to happen again. The second reason is that I don’t want myself to skip things I don’t need to skip just because of laziness or for any trivial reason. If I’m genuinely unwell, sick, or there’s something truly important or urgent, those are reasonable situations. But if it’s just that I don’t really feel like going and would rather stay in bed and rest, or something along those lines, I don’t want to be like that. I’ve also encountered people like that at work. Although that kind of learning environment isn’t like a workplace where your absence would cause significant inconvenience to others—or even might not really trouble anyone at all—it’s still not beneficial for yourself. I don’t want to act that way. I want to be responsible for myself, and I want to be able to answer to myself.

That said, when I was attending tennis lessons, I did have moments where I thought, “Maybe I just won’t go today.” Tennis is an outdoor sport in the summer, and the weather is one of the key factors. Over these past few months, I’d been pretty lucky—almost every lesson had great weather. But there was one time when the forecast said it would rain in the afternoon and evening. I started to hesitate, wondering if I’d end up getting soaked if I went. Even up to an hour before the lesson, or even half an hour before, it was still raining. At that point, I really considered not going—not to mention playing in the rain, even if I did go, the ball wouldn’t bounce well on a wet court. And since it was just one time, skipping might not have been a big deal. But I also didn’t want to give up my perfect attendance over a reason that didn’t feel strong enough. After all, I could just wear waterproof sports shoes and a water-resistant jacket—it wasn’t impossible. After struggling with the decision for half an hour, I finally decided to go. If I got wet, then so be it.

When I arrived at the tennis court, the earlier class hadn’t finished yet, so I waited near the benches. By then, the rain had already become very light. Normally, there would be quite a few students waiting around at that time, but this time there were only two or three people. I thought maybe not many people would show up for this lesson. After waiting a few minutes, the rain completely stopped. The earlier class ended as well. Then the other students gradually arrived—maybe one or two people didn’t come, but everyone else showed up. The instructor said that when they were playing earlier, the rain had been pouring down like a waterfall. Of course, that’s a bit exaggerated and meant in a lighthearted way. But seeing their soaked outerwear, you could tell they had been playing in the rain. So, somewhat unexpectedly, by the time our lesson started, the rain had stopped. We didn’t get rained on at all and were able to finish the class as usual.

Speaking of the weather, I have to say that when playing tennis, you really need to take sun protection seriously. There was one time when it seemed a bit cloudy and the sun wasn’t very visible. Normally, I wear a hat and apply sunscreen when I play. But that day, I figured since there wasn’t any sun, I didn’t bring a hat or put on sunscreen, thinking it should be fine. But just a few minutes after starting, the sun came out, and it was quite strong. Without the shade from a hat brim, there was no shadow over my eyes, and when facing the direction of the sun, I could barely keep my eyes open while playing. And after playing like that for an hour, my skin would definitely be exposed to UV damage. All of this could have been prevented. So if you’re playing outdoors, it’s important to take proper precautions against the sun—unless you genuinely enjoy being directly exposed to intense sunlight.

Another thing is that when I’m learning something, I usually make use of my free time to practice and study on my own. It’s not just theoretical learning, but also hands-on practice. But if you’ve read the earlier articles, you might have noticed that this time, while learning tennis, I didn’t do any private practice on my own. Tennis is a group sport, and it’s different from sports like basketball or soccer. With basketball or soccer, you can still practice skills by yourself. But with tennis, without the proper setup, it’s almost impossible to practice alone. At the very beginning, I did practice forehand and backhand swing motions at home, which is something you can do solo. But without actually hitting a ball, you can only work on your form—you can’t develop a real feel for the ball. In other words, you can’t practice controlling its direction. At one point, I thought about putting some padding against a wall and buying a soft practice ball (if something like that exists), then trying it out at home. But swinging a racket hard indoors and having balls bouncing around didn’t seem very safe, so I didn’t pursue that idea. In the end, all I could do at home was study theory, like watching videos to see if there were any techniques for hitting, and then doing some basic swing practice. That was about it, and obviously, it was far from enough.

So what about finding someone to practice with? That would of course be a great idea. During my first round of lessons, after one class ended, the instructor was talking to everyone, but he was clearly looking at me when he asked (or asked all of us), “Do you want to play some tennis after lesson? I can have the people currently playing clear the court so you can practice.” This was a really good opportunity to practice, and I wouldn’t even need to find someone myself—there were already classmates available to play with. But I said, “No, I have to go.” Why? Because while learning tennis and making sure I had perfect attendance for the lessons, I also wanted to maintain perfect attendance at the gym. I have a full-time job, I go to tennis lessons every week, and I also need to make sure I work out three times a week, along with other things (like practicing photography). On top of that, my gym time is more or less fixed; if I go too late, there’s not enough time to finish my workout, and if I go too early, parking is an issue (not allowed to park before 4:30 pm) and it’s too crowded to work out smoothly. So my schedule was a bit tight, and after tennis, I would head straight to the gym. Looking back, I realize I wasn’t very flexible—I probably could have stayed and played for half an hour to an hour. It wouldn’t actually have a big impact on my schedule 😓 But that’s just how it was; my first priority was to make sure everything I planned to do actually got done.

During the second round of tennis lessons, I had more interaction with my classmates compared to the first round. Some of them would occasionally ask if I wanted to schedule a time to practice together. These were great opportunities, and I was very willing to join. But my irregular work schedule just didn’t line up with others. For example, when others were off on weekends, I was working. And when others were working during the week, I had time. Some classmates were available during weekdays, but for me it was just too early—like 7 in the morning. That’s way too early for me to exercise 😓 If we tried to go later when more people were free, it would be almost impossible to find an available court. And aside from these classmates, I don’t know anyone else around me who plays tennis, so I really couldn’t find anyone. As a result, I never actually managed to go practice.

Although these reasons might sound fairly reasonable, I know that if I had really wanted to practice tennis outside of class, I could have found a way no matter what. Strictly speaking, those were all just excuses. But while I was interested in tennis, it just wasn’t to that extent. All these small and not-so-small reasons added up to why I didn’t end up practicing tennis on my own.

Just like I mentioned, tennis requires other people to play—even for practice. In other words, the level of interaction with others during the process of learning or playing tennis is quite high. As I described in earlier article, it’s similar to playing basketball in high school, where a group of students waits on the sidelines and takes turns getting on court. It’s quite fun. I also felt that same kind of atmosphere during my tennis lessons. I really enjoyed that feeling while playing tennis. But it wasn’t like that from the very beginning.

Especially during the first round of tennis lessons. I was a very rational person. I might not express emotions strongly, but instead keep them restrained and express them in a delayed way. However, I can’t say I’ve always been like that. People behave differently depending on their role and the situation, and I’m the same. My partner during the first round of lessons was a very cheerful and outgoing person, and I would also match her outgoing energy. You could see that I was always smiling, and I would give simple encouragement like “nice” when she hit good shots. But I think I still had a certain sense of boundary—it wasn’t strong, but I could feel it myself. That might have slightly dampened her enthusiasm. Even though she remained cheerful and outgoing throughout, I could still sense that my restraint had some effect on others. At the same time, I realized something: my role was no longer to be someone who is guided, but someone who should take the role of a guide.

I also noticed that when I do things, I tend to focus more on the task itself rather than interacting with people. Or rather, because I focus more on the task itself, I end up somewhat neglecting interaction with others. For example, I felt that the instructor seemed to pay quite a bit of attention to me and would often ask me questions individually rather than others. He is a very nice person, and I should have tried to get closer to him in private. But in my mind, I had this “main task” of being there to learn tennis, and because of that, I overlooked what could have been an opportunity to connect with the instructor more. For example, before class starts, he would sometimes come over and say a few words, and at the end of class he would also say goodbye to me personally. At those moments, I only gave very minimal responses. Afterwards, I started wondering why. Was it because I focused my energy on learning tennis itself and saved energy elsewhere? Or because English is my third language, so my emotions and expressions don’t always align? Or simply because I wasn’t prepared for how to respond? Either way, I realized this is something I need to improve.

A similar situation happened when we were lining up to take turns practicing shots. Sometimes the classmates in the back would say “Nice shot” after my hit. At those moments, I might not give any response at all and just go back to the end of the line. But in fact, I should at least turn back and smile, even if just briefly. I was just too focused on the practice itself and ended up ignoring these small interactions. I also don’t seem to be very good at these small interactions—or more accurately, I’m just not used to them yet. I should consciously practice them more. It’s not that I find them difficult or can’t do them, I just don’t do them often enough, so I haven’t built the habit yet. And I do think these small interactions help build closer relationships, which is something I need. It just takes a little time 😁 Sometimes I also want to talk more with specific classmates, but because I rarely get paired with them and don’t have suitable opportunities to get closer, I end up letting it go. But in reality, in situations like this where interaction is frequent, there are actually many natural opportunities to talk. I should improve in this area.

It’s not that my communication during the first round was bad overall—I’m just pointing out the parts I didn’t do well. Overall, it was only average. Aside from the points mentioned above, the rest of my interactions were still fine. But in general, most of my communication was limited to tennis-related interaction. Apart from simple encouragement toward partners, I didn’t do very well in more proactive, additional communication.

Although I did express my gratitude to the instructor at the end of the class, I didn’t get a chance to thank my regular partner. When I left at the end, I simply smiled at her as I walked past and didn’t say much. This is something I still feel a bit regretful about when I think back on it. I was actually very grateful to have been paired with someone so cheerful and outgoing, and I really should have expressed that gratitude at the time.

There were things I did well, and things I didn’t do so well. But overall, beyond tennis itself, I also learned quite a few other things here. The issue isn’t whether I did things well before, but whether I was aware that I hadn’t done them well.

With that awareness in mind, during the second round of tennis lessons, I improved a lot. During the second round, I interacted much more with other students. In addition to giving simple encouragement during practice, I also talked and chatted with different classmates during breaks before class and in the downtime while practicing. I also became more proactive in expressing my thoughts. Almost everyone was very friendly and willing to interact, since people here might not only be learning tennis, but also coming to take part in activities together.

My behavior during the second round of tennis lessons was not something I did in a deliberately forced way. What I had become aware of earlier mainly helped me stop myself from unnecessarily entering a “defensive mode.” I think it might be because it was my second time taking the course, so I was more familiar with the environment, and my skills had also improved significantly, which made me more relaxed and open. As a result, I naturally interacted more with others. Another thing I didn’t expect was how much I actually wanted to get to know and interact with different people. I’m not an extroverted person, and without a specific “task,” meeting new people and actively interacting with others is not my main priority. But the atmosphere in tennis classes, or on the tennis court in general, allowed me to simply enjoy friendly interaction without any particular purpose.

When I mention “purpose” or “task” here, it doesn’t mean I approach others with ulterior motives. On the contrary, I almost never approach people with a specific purpose, because I’m not good at that. I sometimes even wonder whether I should, since doing so can sometimes bring advantages, and choosing not to may mean missing certain opportunities (though if done improperly, it can also bring disadvantages). But I’ve always believed that treating people sincerely is the best approach, and the one that fits me best. If I do approach someone, it’s usually because I genuinely want to connect with them. Even in rare cases where there is some kind of intention, I would still make it clear and be honest about it, and hope that I can also be of help to the other person.

I’ve found that often, even when I set out to learn something specific, I end up learning many other useful things that are not directly related to it along the way 😁