I watched a lot of Wimbledon this year. Yes, it is an excuse to ‘do nothing’ except watch two people hit a ball over a net for hours (‘oh no, they’re going to have to go to 5 sets, better get myself another ice cream and settle in…’), but/and this year, watching those super humans, I had a few revelations about art, life, intention and failure.  

So first off, why are tennis players like artists? Well, I’m usually a bit sniffy about sport versus art, but it seemed to me that these tennis players (even the lower ranked ones) have entangled their whole lives with the sport they love.  Not in a blurred boundaries, workaholic way, but in a ‘every decision I make can bring me closer to my intention’ kind of way. Always, always ‘protect the asset’.  Nourish the self – body and soul.

I imagine decisions become a lot easier, if the criteria is only, ‘will this bring me closer to what I want?’.  Ice cream or sorbet? Spend money on a better racquet? Take longer to warm up? Get the right people around me?

The decision to invest in their tools and people is a no-brainer.  No apology, no self-doubt.  This is what’s needed to get nearer my intention, so let’s do it.  Two things are needed for this: an intention and trust in oneself.

In terms of business and the art world/industry, the tennis world seems to be very similar – a lot of people’s livelihoods rest on the merry-go-round of the tennis tour, the pressure to make money must be immense.  But at the end of the day, on court, it’s just about people, vulnerability and courage.

The pressure to perform at the highest level, consistently, must be almost crushing for the highest ranking players.  The best ones seem to have turned that around though: into ‘How can I get the right people to help me? Can we do this together? How can I enjoy it all?’

I presume there must be a turning point for the top players, where they commit to the intention to be the best. Surrender to the transformation that needs to happen (and perhaps the people who can make that happen).  Does the confidence come before that point, or after? Does the self doubt disappear with the doing?

During the fortnight, I also started to realise that most players will lose, most of the time.  How do they square that with their belief in themselves?  

It seems to me that a lot of it is about numbers. Kaizen (very small) improvements.  Every loss is a chance to look at the data, figure it out, find a weak spot, work on it and go again.  Each loss is, of course, bringing joy to the spectators regardless of who wins.  Each loss is an opportunity to understand vulnerability and courage, once again.  (I guess the prize money doesn’t hurt either.) Personally I find that pretty comforting and inspiring.