Net Improvement
RANCHO MIRAGE, Calif. — Since returning from weekend tennis camp late last fall, I’ve answered the question “Are you better now?” more times than a granny after a gallbladder operation.
To my surprise, the answer is yes. Two days of coaching did make a difference in my game. This was the idea, of course. But I’ve also bought Spanish software without really believing I’d be hablando espanol in 14 easy lessons.
As my friend Rich and I set off on a Saturday morning for Reed Anderson’s Tennis School at the Westin Mission Hills in Rancho Mirage, about 2 1/2 hours east of Los Angeles, the idea of a two-day tennis make-over seemed preposterous. Mild panic gripped me, triggered by memories of missing the ball during drills when I was 10--the last time I’d had a professional tennis lesson.
We chose this program from Tennis magazine’s list of the 25 best tennis camps in the country. When I spoke with Reed Anderson on the telephone, he seemed laid back and laughed off my concern that the camp was for serious players, not someone of my meager skill. A longtime tennis dabbler, I’d never moved much beyond a beginner’s game. Rich, a stronger player than I, was envisioning himself with an Andre Agassi serve.
In summer, Anderson, 47, runs his school in Sunriver, Ore., but he moves it to the Southern California desert from September to May. He’s been teaching tennis since his college days and started his own school in 1982. The camp at the Westin limits five students to one teacher, but because of low enrollment early in the season, our class had two students to one teacher. Over two days we had six hours of lessons in the mornings and unlimited court time in the afternoon.
The morning we arrived at the Westin showed clearly why the Coachella Valley is the place to be in fall or winter. The Santa Rosa Mountains were outlined against a poster-paint blue sky, and palm trees gleamed in the sunshine. The resort’s immaculately maintained asphalt tennis courts were painted a warm brown, echoing the sand and mountains beyond the man-made oasis. Even at our starting time of 9 a.m. the temperature was in the 80s.
We had a brief introduction to Anderson and head pro John Randolph. Then Anderson took Rich to another court to videotape his backhand. “I wouldn’t mess with that forehand,” Anderson told Rich.
I joined two other students for a drill with John. “I don’t really know what I’m doing,” I said, trying to sneak to the back of the two-person line.
“Oh, that’s how I felt,” said fellow student Lisa Van Saders. “I was so nervous our first day.” She seemed to know what she was doing now, running through the paces of a three-shot drill.
“You should have seen her three days ago,” her husband, Bill, whispered in a thick New Jersey accent. “She was awful.”
Buoyed by his testimony, I joined in. The drills were all multi-shot, requiring running and quick changes of direction. I relaxed and started to have fun.
Then it was my turn to be videotaped. Anderson set the ball machine in motion, and I hit forehands--pretty good ones, I thought.
“Boy,” said Anderson with a grin, “have we got a lot of work to do.”
He told me to stand close to the net and practice swinging a forehand that brushed up the net. Then I hit more balls. Presto. I was hitting forehands with spin.
Anderson could analyze a player’s move instantly. “Well, she’s double dipping [bending her knees twice], her toes are pointed wrong, she’s not shifting her weight and she’s not fully extending her arm,” he said to John as he watched Lisa serve. Then he walked over to her and worked only on her toss of the ball.
“If you give people too many corrections, they just get confused,” he said. But I discovered that if I got one thing right, other things fell into place.
After our three-hour lesson, we checked in. Our room was in a building near the courts, far from the 360-acre, 550-room resort’s main lobby and restaurants. The spacious double room was split-level, with a king-size bed cutting into the room on the diagonal, a sofa, desk and balcony. The marble bathroom was huge. (Our room cost $269 a night with the tennis camp’s reduced rate. That’s valid through the end of February, after which rates go down to $225. The Westin’s rack rates are $430 to $550 a night.)
Hungry, we followed a walkway along a stream, complete with ducks floating over mini-waterfalls, past a sea of golf greens to Las Brisas Cabana, a poolside restaurant, for huge salads. The main pool, surrounded by waterfalls and bougainvillea, was vast and strangely unpopulated. Planning to take advantage of our tennis camp package of unlimited court time, Rich and I figured we’d practice later in the afternoon. We figured wrong, instead lounging at the pool until dinner time.
At Anderson’s suggestion, we went to Biga the California Grill, a five-minute drive from the hotel. The restaurant’s interior seemed to be carved from a cave, with welded pieces of metal hanging on the walls and animal print upholstery.
Our plates were painstaking presentations. My herb-encrusted salmon came with a sculpted mound of intense garlic mashed potatoes, a circle of deep gold carrot puree and a square of baked and sweetly glazed butternut squash. The service was warm and friendly. For dessert, they were happy to cater to our yen for berries with creme anglaise and Kahlua, even though it wasn’t on the menu.
With the next morning’s three hours of tennis in mind, we skipped the night life and went to bed.
Sunday, we dutifully ordered carbo-loading oatmeal for breakfast at the Bella Vista Cafe, the Westin’s patio restaurant. But our waiter seemed so genuinely sorry to see us ordering something so bland that Rich changed his order to the waiter’s recommendation of huevos rancheros. It was good but not substantial enough for three hours of tennis.
Tennis pro John Randolph and I played the Van Saderses in a game of doubles. John had an endearing way of cheering each time we scored. I found his competitive spirit contagious and joined in the hooting when we won the set. Meanwhile Anderson was coaching Rich on putting Agassi-style topspin on his serve. We all worked on playing the net. We ran more drills and played more doubles.
The lessons had a spontaneous feel; Anderson didn’t stick to any rigid schedule or lesson plan.
At the end of the lesson, Anderson told us we’d be back. Most of his business is repeat customers, he said, and “no one ever gets to a point that they don’t want to get better.”
Now I’m back to playing on the cracked courts of the little neighborhood park by my house. But in my mind I still hear the coaching I received on the luxe courses of the Westin Mission Hills. The two days of lessons were just a starting point. I’ve been practicing. The ball is making that satisfying whomp! sound more consistently, I can put topspin on the ball and I am more aggressive at the net. The game has opened up for me; there’s more to think about.
I am better now.
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Budget for Two
Reed Anderson Tennis School Package: $350.00
Westin Mission Hills, 1 night, at reduced tennis camp rate: $269.00
Lunch, Las Brisas Cabana: $35.65
Breakfast, Bella Vista Cafe: $37.38
Dinner, Biga: $103.00
FINAL TAB: $$795.03
Reed Anderson Tennis School, tel. (800) 386-4107; Internet https://www.reedandersontennis.com. Westin Mission Hills, tel. (800) 937-8461 or (760) 328-5955.
