My Struggle Against Cannon Arms
Got absolutely wrecked last Thursday in doubles. Played against this team where one guy had a serve like a freaking rocket launcher. Seriously, couldn’t even blink before the ball rocketed past me. Stood way back, still felt like it was aimed at my toes every damn time. Partner gave me that look… you know the one. “Do something!” My returns? Mostly popped up like lame sacrifices or sailed long. Felt useless.
Went home bummed. Scoured YouTube late, desperate. Found an old coach talking about beating big servers. His main point hit me: Stop running away from the problem. Sounded crazy.
The Crazy Plan: Get Closer
His advice was weirdly simple:
- Stand WAY inside the baseline to take the serve early.
- Choke up crazy high on the racket grip for stability.
- Shorten the backswing – like, super short, just punch it.
- Aim LOW over the net, right down the middle at their feet.
I practiced alone first. Shadow swings in the living room, pretending to block cannonballs. Looked ridiculous shuffling my feet. Partner thought I lost it.
Testing Against Live Fire
Convinced my regular hitting buddy, Mark, to help. Told him: “Just pound serves at me, aim for my body. Don’t hold back.” First few tries were brutal.
- Step 1: Moved WAY in. Felt terrifying. Like staring down a speeding truck.
- Step 2: Choked up like I was holding a frying pan. Grip felt super awkward.
- Step 3: Focused on just sticking my racket out. Minimal backswing. Just block it. Thwack.
- Step 4: Aimed dead center, low. Didn’t try for fancy angles. Just get it back low.
Got smacked in the leg twice. Ball hit my frame more times than the strings. Balls flew everywhere BUT in. Mark laughed his ass off. Almost quit. But… sometimes? The ball just kinda died over the net, landed near their T. Progress?
Something Clicked
Kept at it. Mark kept serving bombs. My focus shifted:
- Stopped trying to “win” the point with the return.
- Just focused on getting the damn ball BACK. Low. Anywhere central.
Then it happened. Made clean contact. Just stuck my racket out and punched it. Ball skidded low, straight down the middle. Mark, charging net like usual, had to scoop it up awkwardly. Partner finally had a chance! We won that point. First time ever not feeling panic against that serve.
Game Day Against The Rocket Man
Next doubles match. Saw Mr. Big Serve lining up. Took a deep breath. Remembered: Get close. Choke up. Punch it. Aim low center. First serve whistled at me. Stepped in, jammed the racket out with a tiny movement. Thud. Ball floated low over the net, bounced maybe knee-height near the T. Server guy, already halfway to net like he owned it, had to suddenly scramble. Bunted it awkwardly. My partner smashed it away. Point us.
Didn’t win every point. Still missed some. But? He started double-faulting more. Saw him thinking, hesitating. Where he was just blasting before, now he tried aiming wider… and missed. My simple blocks? They messed up his whole rhythm. We didn’t win outright, but pushed them to a tiebreak. Partner stopped giving me the look. Server dude gave me a pissed-off glare instead. Mission accomplished.
The Takeaway Punch
It ain’t pretty. It feels weird and scary. But standing way in and just punching the ball back low? Against those power monsters? It takes their biggest weapon and turns it kinda useless. Their massive speed? Now works against them – less time for me to screw up the shot. Their aggressive net rush? Suddenly exposed. You’re not hitting winners. You’re just starting the point. Feels damn good to not be a helpless target anymore.
