The Inner Game of Tennis

I just finished reading The Inner Game of Tennis by Tim Gallwey. Originally published in 1974, the book explores how the thoughts of an athlete affect their game. It’s lauded as being at the forefront of what we now call “sports psychology”. Although my competitive sports days are over, I was still intrigued to read it in context of my current life as a startup professional, rec basketball player, and coach.

Here are a few takeaways that I have from the book.

To preface, Gallwey talks a lot about Self 1 and Self 2. Put simply, Self 1 is the critical, judgmental voice in your head, while Self 2 is the instinctive, natural self that performs effortlessly when trusted. The goal is to remove Self 1 as much as possible so Self 2 can perform.

How to Learn

“To Self 2, a picture is worth a thousand words. It learns by watching the actions of others, as well as by performing actions itself… The benefits to your game come not from analyzing the strokes of top players, but from concentrating without thinking and simply letting yourself absorb the images before you.”

Gallwey argues that every human is encoded with a natural learning process. This process allows babies to walk long before their parents could explain it to them. The key activity of observing a successful outcome with your eyes, ears, and nose is more effective than any technical explanation.

I remember watching countless highlights of Shane Battier and Andre Dawkins as a kid- just trying to imitate their exact basketball shots. I would go as far as to open my mouth and scrunch my eyebrows in the same position as their posters on my wall. No one had to explicitly tell me to jump with my legs, position my hands, and flick my wrist; simply observing Battier and Dawkins taught my Self 2 to do it without me realizing.

Relating this to career, it’s important to observe those who you aspire to be. In addition to reading books from those at the top, there’s value in being in the room where it happens. This is one reason young professionals should consider starting at large organizations. At Google, one can see how their Senior Directors react to pain, pleasure, choices, and adversity. Talent rubs off, and proximity to leadership is a great way to become a better professional without needing to take a single note.

A good coach will encourage their student to find a mentor whom they can observe. Once the observation period ends, the coach should not ask the student what they observed. That’s that trap of Self 1. Rather, the student should immedaitely act and trust that Self 2’s naturally encoded learning will lead to them success.

Thinking While Performing

“Before hitting the next set of balls, I asked Joan, ‘This time I want you to focus your mind on the seams of the ball. Don’t think about making contact. In fact, don’t try to hit the ball at all.”

It’s happened too many times in my golf game; I’d pick up a new, exciting feeling on the driving range, codify those feelings into rules, then enact those rules on the course… only to disastrous results.

Creating rigid, conscious rules is a Self 1 exercise that prevents Self 2 from effortless performance. People often misinterpret “thinking” for “performing”. Thus, if you do not think about your newest backswing, you will not do it. However, if you trust the learning process of observing, feeling, and experiencing, you will build a muscle memory that goes beyond any thought.

At the beginning of every spring, I would pick up my clubs and play some golf. I always play well in my first couple rounds. And, it used to piss me off! I would think, wow, I must be really bad at practicing if rusty Ben always plays better than golf-every-day Ben. But, I now realize that “rusty” is a poor word. This version of me doesn’t overthink. It is a version that has had time to hibernate and naturally encode all my greatest golf habits (and forget the others).

To keep Self 1 from creeping in, Gallwey suggests focusing on something harmless, like the seams of the ball. This keeps Self 1 occupied and lets Self 2 take control. You’re not thinking about what to do with the seams—you’re just acknowledging them. Calm your mind, trust your body. You’re more talented than you think!

Competing Against Others

“It is the duty of your opponent to create the greatest possible difficulties for you, just as it is yours to try to create obstacles for him. Only by doing this do you give each other the opportunity to find out to what heights each can rise… Instead of hoping your opponent is going to double-fault, you actually wish that he’ll get it in. This desire helps you achieve a better mental state of returning it.”

This is a great way to reframe “challenge” as “opportunity.” Whether you’re competing against another person, the environment (a golf course, the stock market), or yourself, pressure is a privilege. If I see a great tennis player on the other side of the net, I ought to smile, as it’s an opportunity to prove to Self 1 that Self 2 is even more awesome than he thinks!

I’ll admit, I’ve lost some of my competitive edge since entering the workforce. My competitors are less often other people and more often internal feelings—fear, change, complacency. But I’m starting to see that competitive joy can still be found in these areas too. When I face a difficult situation at work, it’s an opportunity to improve and sharpen my skills.

Judging Yourself

“Why shouldn’t a beginning player treat his backhand as a loving mother would her child? The trick is to not identify with the backhand. If you view an erratic backhand as a reflection of who you are, you will be upset. But you are not your backhand any more than a parent is his child… Remember that you are not your tennis game. You are not your body. Trust the body to learn and play, as you worst trust another person to do a job… Let the flower grow.”

It’s easy to see performance as a reflection of your character or work ethic. A big part of my personality that I’m working on is how negative outcomes in one area of my life tend to impact others.

I’ve heard the saying, “would you talk to a friend that way?” and how I should separate my mistakes from my self-worth as a human. This is essentially Gallwey’s advice, although I found his perspective much more optimistic and constructive. First, one must detach the activity from the human. You are not your tennis game. Once you do that, you can see your game for what it is- a living entity that’s filled with potential, secrets, and passion. Go off and explore!

That said, I struggle with this idea when it comes to my career. Perhaps I’m too American, but I find it hard to say, “You are not your career,” and mean it. Since college, I’ve expected that my accomplishments, my friends, the places I’d live, and even the women I’d date would spawn from my career and the experiences within it. I think many young professionals feel the same way. This makes detaching from outcomes difficult, and it’s something I still need to think about.