Okay folks, buckle up because today I tried copying Maximus Jones’ monster tennis serve. You know, the one that sounds like a cannon going off? Yeah, that one. Spoiler alert: my shoulder might hate me tomorrow. Here’s how it went down, step by painful step.
Getting Started (The Hopeful Phase)
First, I dragged myself onto the local court early. Found a quiet spot away from the morning walkers. Didn’t even mess with rallying – went straight for the serve basket. Figured I needed full focus. Pulled out my phone, found one of those slow-mo videos of Maximus unleashing hell. Watched it like a hawk, maybe twenty times in a row. Kept pausing at different points.
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His whole thing looks… explosive.
- He doesn’t just stand there, he coils up like a spring, crouching down real low on his legs.
- The ball toss isn’t super high, it’s way out in front, almost like he’s reaching for it.
- Then BAM! He shoves off the ground hard with his back leg first, drives up, twists his whole body, and cracks the ball like it insulted his grandma.
My First Attempts (The Humiliation Phase)
Right, time to mimic that. Felt super awkward copying his exact starting stance – knees bent deep, racket hanging low near my ankle. Tried tossing the ball way out in front like he does. Felt weird. First swing? Total air ball. Racket hit nothing but breeze. Embarrassing.
Second try. Focused on the leg push. Shoved off… and nearly toppled over sideways. Ball went sailing somewhere towards the fence, nowhere near the service box. This was proving trickier than the video made it look.
Third try, fourth try… okay, finally made contact. But the sound? More like a sad ‘thud’ than a powerful ‘CRACK’. Felt clunky. My timing was way off – either hitting it too late or too early. Mostly into the net. Started sweating buckets, and not just from the sun.
Started breaking it down piece by piece.
- The Legs: Tried really exaggerating that back leg push first. Felt powerful for a second, but then I’d kinda collapse upward instead of driving up and forward.
- The Toss: Keeping it way out front felt unnatural. Kept wanting to toss it more over my head like I always do. Had to fight the muscle memory.
- The Swing Path: Forgetting the fancy terms here. But I tried swinging forward more, like punching through the ball, rather than slicing across it. Felt different.
- The Contact Point: Tried imagining hitting it way out in front, almost like I was reaching. Usually ended up hitting it too low or too late.
The Grueling Middle (The ‘Am I Even Improving?’ Phase)
Went through a whole basket of balls. Mostly just collecting them from all corners of the court. Seriously. Over the fence? Check. Into the side netting? Constant. Landing on my own side? More times than I care to admit.
Occasionally, magic! One ball would connect just right. I’d feel that leg drive push me up and forward, I’d catch the ball way out front, and WHAM! It felt effortless, sounded amazing, and flew deep into the service box. Wow! That’s it!
Then, next serve… back to whiffing or sending it into orbit. Maddening. So inconsistent. My shoulder started whining about all the effort, especially when I really tried to smash it.
Kept grinding. Focused on just one bit at a time for a few serves. Like, okay, for these five balls, only think about shoving off that back leg hard. Or, just focus on tossing it into that scary spot way out front.
Slowly, the misses became less comical. I hit the net less often. Started getting maybe one truly decent serve in every… ten? Felt like progress, but man, it was slow. Exhausting too. Legs were burning.
The Glimmers (The ‘Okay, Maybe?’ Phase)
Towards the end, things started clicking slightly more. The leg coil felt a bit more natural. My body started understanding that violent uncoiling motion a tiny bit better.
- Noticed my arm felt looser on the swing when I actually got the leg drive right.
- Felt more balanced after contact when I remembered to drive forward with the legs, not just up.
- Finally started feeling some power coming from the ground up, not just my arm. That was cool. When it worked, the serve felt less forced.
Managed maybe three serves in a row that had some legit pop and landed decently well. Not Maximus-level cannon fire, but noticeably harder and flatter than my usual serve. That felt good. Like actual, tangible payoff.
Walking Off (The ‘Bruised But Hopeful’ Phase)
Gathered my balls (again!), wiped off the sweat, shoulders feeling heavy. It was messy, awkward, and honestly pretty frustrating for big chunks of time. Definitely not perfect, nowhere near mastered.
But… I see the recipe now. It’s all in that coiled-up energy exploding forward, not just an arm swing. Gotta build that muscle memory in my legs and core. It feels powerful when it connects right. Just gotta get my damn coordination to match what my brain sees Maximus doing.
Will I be serving aces like Jones tomorrow? Heck no. But I’ll definitely be back on that court, basket in hand, trying to shove off that back leg just a little bit harder, throw that ball just a little bit further forward. The hunt for that power crack continues. Shoulder pain be damned.
