As the year winds down, my thoughts don’t turn to the holidays, peace on earth, or goodwill towards men. Nope. My thoughts turn to a much loftier goal: what do I have to do to finish the year ranked #1?
If you’ve ever chased rankings, you know the feeling. Currently I was sitting in the #3 spot in NorCal 55+ 3.5 Singles, and unless I could win the two remaining eligible tournaments, my options looked pretty slim.
So I did what any desperate, ranking-hungry senior player would do: I scoured the USTA tournament site like it was Craigslist in 1999. And then — jackpot.
A 55+ 3.5 Level 4 tournament popped up in Lakewood, California. Six weeks out. 346 miles down I-5. A “quick” six-hour drive. Perfect. I thought: no one from Northern California will be crazy enough to go down there… especially not the two guys I’m chasing.
I signed up immediately. At first, only a couple of SoCal locals were in the draw. Fantastic. Maybe it would stay small and I could sneak away with a tidy bag of points. Of course, I could also lose first round and be driving back up I-5 by Saturday afternoon, but let’s not get distracted by reality.
The Last-Minute Sign-Up Game
Every few days I checked the entrants list. Nothing. Sigh of relief. Then — boom — another entry. And not just anyone, but the guy right behind me in the #4 NorCal spot.
Of course.
One thing I’ve learned: tennis players love waiting until the very last second to sign up. Why? I have no idea. Is it because they’re waiting for their spouse’s approval? Are they staring at the registration page with a stopwatch, waiting to click “enter” at the final minute just to mess with people like me?
By the time the draw closed, a few more names popped in — including another NorCal guy (not a threat in the rankings) and two San Diego players I knew all too well. One had beaten me at Nationals in 2024. The other had beaten me in doubles finals at Nationals this year. I was hoping for amnesia on their part, but no such luck.
When the seeds were released, those two San Diego players landed at #1 and #2. Luckily, they were in the opposite half of the draw from me. Still, I’d have to get through one of them in the semis and the other in the finals. But hey — first things first. I hadn’t even played my opener yet.
Match Day in the Heat
Tournament day. Lakewood. 85 degrees by the time I stepped on court at 1:00 pm. Hotter on the hard court.
My opponent was Chuck — another 67-year-old. Finally, someone my age! No young 55-year-old whippersnapper running me ragged. Confidence high, I started strong.
The first set? A war. Back and forth, neither of us consolidating breaks, and way too many service games going to multiple deuces. Exactly what you don’t want in the heat. We played at least five games with 4–6 deuce points each. Naturally, the set went to a tiebreak.
The tiebreak was no cakewalk for either of us. But, at 5–5 Chuck got the mini-break, and that was that. Set to Chuck, 7-5.
Second set, same grind. We hit 3-3 before he broke me. I had no more energy and couldn’t claw my way back losing it 6-3. All that effort… for measly participation points.
Not exactly the grand point haul I’d driven six hours for.
The Consolation Surprise
At the desk, the tournament director reminded me about the consolation draw. I’d conveniently erased that from memory because my focus was ranking points, not consolation prizes.
But then Henry — the NorCal guy in the #4 spot — who also lost his first round match — came up and said, “No one else signed up for the backdraw. Want to play?”
Weighing the choice between an early jump on Sunday L.A. traffic or another sweaty match, I asked what time. He said 3:00 pm. Too late. But Henry had worked out a deal: the tournament director would let us play offsite at a local park at 8:30 am and call in the score.
I said yes, at least I’d get two matches in for all the effort.
The Offsite Showdown
Sunday morning: a complete weather flip. 68 degrees, cloudy, perfect tennis weather. The park courts were cracked, worn, and probably last resurfaced when Reagan was in office. But they were free, and first-come, first-served. We snagged one and played.
This time, I had more energy. No sun blinding me on one side, and I could finally use my serve as a weapon. After a tight battle, I pulled it out 6-3, 6-4.
Not a glamorous win, but a win nonetheless.
Doing the Points Math
After I got home that afternoon, I tried to calculate how many points I’d earned. Ever tried reading the USTA tournament points chart? It’s like being handed a menu written entirely in Mandarin.
By my best math (although I had to take off my shoes and socks), I figured I’d earn participation points plus maybe 42 points for the consolation win. Not much help in my chase.
Wednesday came, and with it, new rankings. I opened the page, ready to see if my math had been correct.
And then… shock. I’d been bumped up to #2.
How? Turns out, that consolation win wasn’t worth 42 points. It was worth 410 points. Add that to my whopping 9 points for participation, and suddenly, I was in second place.
Lesson Learned
Tennis, like life, doesn’t always go according to plan. I drove six hours, sweated through brutal matches, and left disappointed — only to find out a few days later that the “meaningless” backdraw match had propelled me up the rankings anyway.
So, the next time your tournament doesn’t unfold the way you pictured, remember: you may still end up exactly where you wanted.
Question for you: When in your tennis experience have things gone differently than expected, but still helped you get where you wanted to go?
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