On his own first serve Steve charged the net but mis-hit a volley, sending the ball out of bounds and giving Darren a love—fifteen lead.
His next serve was an ace — a beautiful topspin that Darren sprawled after but couldn’t get his racket on. Steve stayed on the baseline for the rest of the game, forcing the taller boy into errors with a relentless ground game. Darren was puffing a little after Steve’s game point.
Steve glanced up into the stands again. His father was grinning broadly and talking eagerly to Vince, who nodded. Ginny and his mom clapped and gave him the thumbs-up sign.
Both players held serve for the next six games. Steve had one chance to break Darren, but he messed up a volley, hitting what should have been a winner past the baseline.
With the first set at four games apiece, Darren hit a few poor first serves. On one, Steve made a perfect return to Darren’s backhand. He put away Darren’s weak return shot to make the score love—fifteen. When Darren came to the net on the next point, Steve crossed him up with a shot to his forehand side that Darren couldn’t get to.
Each boy won a point, bringing the score to fifteen—forty. Darren sent the ball whizzing down the centerline, but Steve got to it in time. Darren flogged it back to Steve and charged the net. But Steve drove him way back with a lob, then came in himself. Darren stayed behind the baseline, expecting a smash volley, but Steve hit a soft drop shot to win the game.
If Steve held serve, he’d win the first set. Darren knew it, too. He bore down hard on every point, taking no chances, racing for each shot. Steve matched him in intensity, and the game went to forty-all. The crowd was roaring encouragement, obviously enjoying the battle.
Steve’s next serve was down the middle, and Darrell, caught leaning the wrong way, made his first error of the game. The ball hit the top of the net and dropped back on his side, making it Steve’s advantage.
Steve bounced the ball and took a deep breath. He aimed his serve right at Darren and sent the ball over the net with as much force as he could muster. For a split second Darren froze, then managed a tentative return. Steve put it away with an overhead smash.
“Game and set to Greeley,” announced the umpire. “He leads one set to none.”
Darren looked grim as the second set began. Steve knew that the match was far from over.
The second set was as even as the first had been, but Steve made two more unforced errors on volleys that gave games to Darren. Darren won six games to three, tying the match at one set each. The third set would decide it.
Darren now seemed to get cautious, as if he was more concerned with not losing than with winning. He took a little power off his first serves. When he returned serve, he stopped charging the net and stayed on the baseline.
Steve, on the other hand, played more aggressively. He took advantage of the softer serves to come to the net more often, which got him some points and cost him others. He wished his serve-and-volley game were more consistent. If it had been, he believed he might have taken the third set — and the match — pretty quickly.
As it was, he was leading three games to two after five games, with Darren about to serve. Steve was just behind the baseline, expecting another less-than-sizzling first service. Instead, the ball rocketed into the service box and by him as if it had been shot from a cannon. Before he knew it, Darren had won the game, with two aces and two beautiful volleys.
Now it was Steve who was feeling uncertain. He began the next game with a double fault. He suddenly felt weak, as if he were playing on quicksand with a twenty-pound racket. Darren took the game, with Steve getting just one point. Steve now trailed, three games to four.
Somehow, he knew, he had to get himself together fast. Otherwise he’d lose the match. Even if he didn’t care about impressing Vince, he didn’t want to lose.
10
Fortunately, it was time to switch ends of the court, so he had a moment to sit down. He drank something he couldn’t even taste and took some deep breaths, leaned back, and shut his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Ginny was watching him from in front of the stands.
“Hey, bro,” she called. “Don’t panic. Just play your game and you’ll beat this guy. He’ll run out of gas, you wait and see.”
Steve smiled and nodded. He wiped the sweat off his face and stood up.
This time he positioned himself well back of the baseline, and when Darren’s rocket serve came, he was ready for it. He returned it with a topspin forehand that darted away from the end of Darren’s racket. But on the next point, Darren came back with a sizzling serve right at Steve’s chest. Steve couldn’t handle it, and the score was even.
Both players sensed that this game was crucial and played as hard as they could. They went to deuce, a tie of forty—forty, and both Steve and Darren survived several game points. Finally, Darren missed a first serve.
Steve decided to gamble. When Darren reared back to serve, Steve moved in front of the baseline.
Sure enough, Darren’s second serve was soft. Steve hit an overhead smash, racing to the net behind it. Darren barely got a lob back over the net. Steve put it away with another smash. Advantage, Greeley.
The next point seemed to go on forever. Steve made one incredible diving save, but Darren dashed across the court and returned it. Finally, Darren made an unforced error, hitting what should have been an easy backhand into the net, and the game was Steve’s. The set was even at four games apiece.
Both boys held serve for the next four games, making the score six to six and setting up a tiebreaker. Once again they sat down for a few minutes before changing ends of the court.
As he took the court to receive Darren’s serve, Steve tried not to think about the ache in his shoulders and back. It had been a long, hard-fought match so far, and now it felt to him like the real match was just starting. He hoped that his opponent was feeling some aches and pains, too.
In a tiebreaker, one player serves once, then they take turns serving twice, switching ends after each has served. Whoever gets to seven points first, winning by two, wins.
Darren’s first serve didn’t give the impression of fatigue. It was another boomer, down the middle, good for an ace. It was Steve’s turn to serve, and he hit a solid shot to Darren’s backhand side, charging the net as he did. Darren’s return was cross-court to his own backhand. Steve lunged for the ball but could only tip it into the net. Darren led two—love.
Steve won the next point after a long baseline-to-baseline duel. But Darren won the next two points on his own serves to lead, four—one.
Steve tried serving straight at Darren’s chest, but Darren sidestepped and hit a strong forehand return that Steve had to reach for. His shot tipped the net … and bounced softly over for a lucky point.
He took the next point with a beautiful ace, a shot that kicked up chalk in the very corner of the court. The score was now four—three.
The bleachers were completely full, and everyone was standing, cheering and applauding after every point. Steve noticed that even Vince was on his feet.
Darren’s next two serves were split and the score was five—four. A single mistake, Steve told himself, would probably cost the match.
He decided to stay aggressive and charged the net behind his serve. But he misjudged Darren’s return and the ball swerved into him, caroming off the frame of the racket and plopping into the net. Darren now led six—four. Steve had to win the next two points just to get even. If he lost one, the match was Darren’s.
He hit a topspin serve that Darren returned to his forehand. Steve replied with a cross-court smash. Darren dove for it, reached it in the nick of time, but then couldn’t recover.
Seeing his opponent off balance at the edge of the court, Steve put away a winner to Darren’s backhand side. Six to five, and Steve had to win the next point, too.
He returned Darren’s serve deep to Darren’s forehand side, and the players began a long baseline exchange, moving each other from side to side. Neither wanted to
risk moving in. Steve was tired and hoped Darren was fading too.
Then Darren made a mistake. He started across the baseline before Steve hit the ball, assuming that Steve would want to make him run. But Steve surprised him, hitting the ball down the line to where Darren had just been standing. Darren couldn’t backtrack in time. The tiebreaker was knotted at six—six.
Steve was relieved to have a chance to sit down for a moment before they switched ends of the court.
What will Darren do now? he asked himself. He thought back over the match, trying to recall the points Darren had won decisively. His cannon serve had proven to be his best weapon, Steve decided, standing up to return to position on the court.
Darren prepared to serve. With the match on the line, Steve stepped back two paces to get ready for it.
Whap! And here it came, like a blur! Without thinking — he had no time to think — Steve got his racket behind the ball and sent it back over the net. He moved forward, backhanded the next return across the court, and, when Darren hit a soft, weak lob back, smashed the ball past him. He was at match point and the serve was his.
The crowd was yelling, but Steve barely heard them. He held the ball loosely in his left hand and glanced at Darren. Darren was bouncing on his toes. With a deep breath, Steve tossed the ball up and smashed a topspin serve that tagged the centerline.
Darren lunged after it but couldn’t reach it. He lost his footing and fell, then lay motionless for a moment before slowly getting up and walking to the net. Steve shook his hand and trudged toward the sidelines, too tired to celebrate his victory.
11
The first person to reach Steve was Ginny, who threw her arms around him and hugged him happily. Pat Carbo stuck out his hand for a high five. Some adults he didn’t know slapped him on the back and congratulated him. Then his father, mother, and Vince appeared. Vince was smiling broadly.
“You looked good out there!” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.” He turned to Ginny. “I have some phone calls to make, but I’ll be back in time to watch your match.” He hurried away.
Ginny’s smile could have lit up a city.
Pat leaned toward Steve. “Hey, you want to go celebrate at the mall? I’ll treat you to a game of pinball.”
Steve smiled happily. “Absolutely! I want to watch Gin’s match and then let’s go.”
Mr. Greeley put his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “You made me proud out there, son. You really did.”
Steve was startled and pleased by the praise. “Thanks, Dad.”
His father nodded and continued. “I just have a few notes for you … there are some things we have to work on before the finals. Especially your serve-and-volley game. That hurt you today.”
At first Steve wasn’t sure he was hearing right. Was his father criticizing the match he’d just played? He realized he had heard correctly and his body sagged.
Mrs. Greeley had heard, too, and said, “Ted,” in a warning voice.
“What?” demanded their father, looking bewildered. “I said he did a good job! I just wanted to point out a couple of problems, while they were fresh in my mind, that’s all.”
“You can talk about that later,” his mother said, frowning at him. “Let Steve enjoy his victory for a little while, all right?”
“I’m happy he won!” Mr. Greeley looked confused, as though he couldn’t understand what the problem was. “I just wanted —”
“Dad, can we talk about my mistakes later?” asked Steve. “Please?”
His father shrugged. “Okay, okay. Just as long as we do it. How about after Ginny’s match?”
Steve nodded. “For a few minutes, all right.”
Ginny glanced at her watch. “Speaking of my match, I have to get going. Bye, guys.”
“Good luck, hon,” called Mrs. Greeley as Ginny hurried away.
“Go get her!” yelled Steve.
Ginny waved in response as she headed toward the locker room.
“Who’s she playing?” his father asked.
Steve was startled that his father had forgotten their breakfast conversation. “She’s playing Maddy Stern. Ginny should romp.”
“I’m sure she will,” his father said, as they made their way to the court where Ginny’s game would be played.
Just before Ginny served to begin the match, Vince ran up and joined the Greeleys in the stands. He patted Steve’s shoulder as he sat down and thereafter had eyes only for the tennis.
Sure enough, Ginny easily won the match, six—one, six—three. When she came over to accept the congratulations of her family, she was hardly breathing hard.
“Way to go, Gin,” said Steve, exchanging low fives with her.
“Lookin’ tough!” his mother chimed in.
“Very impressive, Ginny,” said Vince.
Ginny turned bright red and stammered out her thanks. “Will you be able to see the finals?” she asked.
“I’ll be there,” replied Vince. “I look forward to watching both of Ted’s kids. Ted, old buddy, you really turned out a couple of winners here.”
Mr. Greeley grinned broadly.
Vince shook hands all around. “See you tomorrow,” he said, as he turned and hurried away. Steve thought that Vince must spend a lot of his time rushing here and there.
“Yo, Steve!” Pat Carbo waved to him from the parking lot. “You all set?”
“Two minutes!” Steve said. He turned to his father. “Dad, I have to go. We’ll talk about my game tonight, okay?”
His father frowned. “Hold on a minute, Champ. We were going to work on your serve-and-volley game for a while. I thought we’d find a practice court right now and —”
Steve stared in disbelief. “Right now? I just ran myself into the ground a little while ago, getting into the finals, Dad. This can wait till tomorrow.” It was a rest day, before the finals.
His father shook his head. “It’s better to concentrate on these problems while they’re still fresh in your mind. I think we should do it now.”
Steve was hot and tired and decided that he wasn’t going to give in. “Dad, I’m all played out today. I need a break. So I’m going to the mall with Pat for a while, all right? I’ll see you at dinner, and you can give me your notes then, and we can work anytime tomorrow.”
“But —,” began Mr. Greeley.
Steve, however, had started running toward Pat. He grabbed Pat’s arm, forcing him to run with him. He didn’t slow up until they were out of sight of the tennis courts.
“Whoa!” said Pat, catching his breath. “What was that all about? You just won a big match. How come your dad looked unhappy?”
Steve scowled. “He wanted me to go practice some stuff with him, but I said I was going with you. He didn’t like it.”
Pat whistled. “He wanted you to practice right after you’d played a long match? How come?”
“That’s just how he is,” Steve said. “Dad wants me to be a big tennis star. He wants me to go to a tennis camp for the summer that a friend of his runs, and I don’t want to. I don’t like the idea of doing nothing all summer but playing tennis, talking about tennis, and dreaming about tennis.”
Pat thought about it for a minute. “Have you told him the way you feel?”
Steve sighed. “Nope. Not yet.”
Pat stopped and turned to Steve. “Got any ideas on how and when you’re going to do it?”
“Not a clue,” answered Steve. “That’s why I haven’t done it yet.”
Pat chewed on his lower lip, a sign that he was doing some heavy thinking. “You ought to tell him soon. The longer you wait, the harder it’ll get.”
Steve threw his hands out in frustration. “You think I don’t know that? I just … I wish I could … right now, I can’t. That’s all.”
Pat studied his friend. “Just don’t wait too long, or you may find yourself living out your Dad’s plan and it’ll be too late.”
12
On the morning of the finals, Mr. Greeley announced another b
ig surprise. He and Steve had worked out together the previous day and were at peace, for the moment.
“Want to know who’ll be handing out your trophies today, after you win your titles?” he asked, sitting back and grinning at them.
“If we win,” Steve corrected.
His father’s smile disappeared. “I don’t want to hear any negative thinking at this table.”
Steve exchanged a quick look with Ginny, but Ginny seemed to side with their father on this one.
“The people presenting the trophies both worked with Vince, and he’s going to introduce them to you,” Mr. Greeley continued. “The boys’ trophies will be handed out by … Billy Gardiner!”
Despite himself, Steve was impressed. Ginny squealed. “Really? All right!”
Billy Gardiner had begun his pro career twelve years ago, about when Steve was born. He was always ranked in the top twenty and had made it up to number two for a while. But though he’d won some tournaments, he’d never quite gotten to the top. Still, he was a big name in the sport.
“What about the girls’ trophies?” asked Ginny.
“Dierdre Mulloy,” Mr. Greeley replied.
“Dierdre Mulloy?” echoed Steve. “Didn’t she retire?”
Ginny’s eyes flashed angrily. “She definitely did not retire! She’s making a comeback!”
Dierdre Mulloy had burst on the pro scene three years earlier, at the age of fourteen. For two years she had played, and often beaten, the best women on the tour. Then something had happened, and her game seemed to fall apart. She had dropped off the tour for several months but now, at seventeen, was back to see if she could recapture the magic.
“If there’s time, Vince will introduce you to her before your match, Gin,” said Mr. Greeley. “Later on, you’ll both meet Billy. Of course,” he added, putting down his coffee cup and looking at Steve as he spoke, “you’ll be meeting them again — when they give you your trophies.”
At the Tennis Center later that day, Steve and his parents were about to wish Ginny good luck when Vince came up with a tall young woman. Steve instantly recognized her as Dierdre Mulloy and knew from Ginny’s muffled shriek that Ginny recognized her, too.
Tennis Ace Page 4
