Command the court

I am a product of the New York City public school system, so when we showed up to a tennis coaching workshop in the heart of Flushing, I felt like I was transported back in time. My fiancee and I wanted to learn to teach tennis, but instead, we learned that teaching tennis is exhausting. 

But also thrilling. 

We gave demonstrations for eight hours on a tennis court and had to command the court of other hopeful tennis coaches. There were young kids from the Bronx who found tennis as a vehicle for purpose and hoped to continue sharing the game. A guy from Miami who had good-looking strokes but lacked the sauce of the kids from the Bronx. And a rich doctor from Long Island who wanted to feed his ego and wall of credentials by proving he was, in fact, a good tennis player. 

I was there because I want to teach tennis to kids one day. I was also there because I wanted to read the beginning of the manual because I didn't grow up in a junior program. I skipped the early chapters on tennis and wanted to return to the beginning. 

With a little minion racket in my hand, I learned to hit the most basic groundstrokes and serve. In a way, it was simple and nothing groundbreaking. Line up your racket with the ball and hit it over the net with an upward trajectory. The USTA calls it GPS.

Grip: Use the proper grip. 

Preparation: Keep the preparation short and simple. 

Swing path: Low to high. 

My fiancee and I laughed as we took turns running a drill for the other coaches. I slapped her butt with my racket and told her to stop looking so cute. A move that I subconsciously learned in a world that was much closer to the kids from the Bronx. The New York City public school system didn't teach me much scholastically, but the environment taught me how to have fun. 

My classes were outside of class, and they covered subjects like "how to have a sense of humor," "how to talk your way on a bus for free if you have no money," and "how to be the mayor of the pizzeria so you get a free slice once in a while." 

I once had a chance to go to a prestigious school in Long Island, but I told my parents I wanted to stay at Cardozo. Even then, I knew what I was learning in Queens wouldn't be taught anywhere else. You could always go back and read the manual, but you can never replace the raw elements of life. 

One time during the session, I saw my fiancee leading a group of coaches through a drop-shot drill, which was surreal. It was like seeing multiple layers of my life collide from different periods, and when I caught her eye, she smiled. 

Like a cute girl smiling at you at recess.