Tennis Ace (6 page)

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.”

O
n the morning of the finals, Mr. Greeley announced another big 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.

Dierdre was smiling, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She seemed tense and kept looking everywhere except at the person
she was talking to.

“It’s a thrill to meet you,” Ginny said.

Dierdre smiled, but not happily. “Well, at least you still recognize me, anyway.”

Ginny stared in surprise. “
Recognize
you? Sure, I recognize you! You’re a champ!
Everybody
recognizes you!”

Dierdre seemed to really look at Ginny for the first time. She sighed. “You’d think they would. I mean, it was only a year
ago that I was on top, but … I’ll bet a lot of people here don’t know who I am.”

Vince laughed. “Well, you’ll be back on top soon, Dierdre. We know that much. It’ll happen.”

Dierdre nodded several times. “Sure. Absolutely. I … well, of
course
I’ll be there! I
have
to be there.” Steve felt a little uncomfortable at how desperate she sounded. He wondered why getting back on top was so
important to her.

Vince put a hand on her arm. “Dee, don’t worry. Just have some confidence. We’re going to work everything out and you’ll be
right where you used to be.”

She flashed him a grateful look. “I will, won’t I? Because if I’m not — I — I guess I’d have to go back to school and — it
would be — I couldn’t just —”

She suddenly realized that the others were staring at her. Ginny looked astonished, and Steve was embarrassed.

Dierdre tried to laugh it off “But I’m just being silly, and I’m looking forward to watching Ginny play — and to playing her
on the tour someday!”

Vince gently took Dierdre’s arm. “Save me a seat with you guys, will you? Dee and I are just going to talk for a moment.”

As they walked away, Steve let out a long breath and said, “Yikes!”

Ginny whirled toward him. “What do you mean, ‘yikes’? So she’s kind of nervous and self-conscious. So what? She’s been away
for a while and she’s rusty. She’s still a great player!”

Steve held up his hands defensively. “Sure, Gin! I know that. I didn’t mean — hey, you’d better get ready.”

Ginny took off and the rest of the family sat down in the stands. Steve turned to his father. “Dierdre seemed real uptight,
didn’t she, Dad?”

Mr. Greeley looked thoughtful. “Well, when you’ve been to the top, it isn’t easy thinking that you might not get back again,
especially if you’re still young.”

So even if you’re a champion, you can have a rough time, Steve thought as he settled into the stands to watch Ginny play.
And this is what my dad really wants for me?

Ginny didn’t look like her usual competitive self. She lost the first set of her match, six—four. But she quickly regained
form and took the second and third sets by identical six—four scores.

Ginny came off the court as the fourteen-and-under state champion and was surrounded by her family. They all hugged her and
showered her with praise. Then Vince stepped in.

“That was impressive, Ginny. The more I’ve seen of you, the more talent I think you’ve got. Maybe we can figure out a way
for you
and
your brother to work with me in Florida.”

He glanced at Steve, who made himself sound polite but not too eager.

Ginny’s response came as a shock to Steve. She didn’t jump up and down and scream. Instead she smiled and said, “Thanks, Mr.
Marino. I really appreciate that. I’ll talk it over with my folks. They may want me to wait a year.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. That sounded like something
he
might have said, pleasant but not exactly enthusiastic. Was Ginny feeling sick or something? He wished he could ask her what
was going on, but he didn’t think he’d be able to get her alone before he had to get ready for his own final. He was playing
Tony Zaras, a guy who had beaten him a month before. He planned to take some time and think about how best to play Tony. Tony
was the first
seed — the highest ranked in the twelve-and-unders — this year, with reason.

Steve was just getting ready to leave when Vince waved someone over. Steve looked up to see Billy Gardiner standing in front
of him.

As Vince made the introductions, Billy squeezed some kind of wrist-strengthening gizmo in his right hand. He put the thing
in his pocket before shaking hands and then took it out and began squeezing again.

Steve pointed to the little device. “You use that every day?”

“You bet! Gotta keep the wrists strong,” said Billy, never stopping his exercise.

“For how long?” asked Ginny.

Billy shrugged. “Dunno. A couple of hours, I guess. I don’t keep track, I just do it. I also work out every day for four or
five hours when I’m not playing. Young guys like Steve, here, are coming along all the time, and I have to stay in shape.
If you don’t work at it, you can lose it. I don’t plan to lose it. But you have to put in your time at the gym and keep your
edge.”

“I remember when you competed in the French
Open,” said Mr. Greeley. “That final was amazing. I thought for sure you were going to win.”

Billy grinned broadly. “Hey, thanks.”

Mrs. Greeley said, “I’ve always wanted to go to France. How did you like it?”

Billy thought a moment. “I play well on those red clay courts. It’s my best surface.”

Mrs. Greeley looked a little surprised. “No, I mean, how did you like the country? Did you travel, go to any of the museums,
eat at any wonderful restaurants?”

“What’s the view like from the top of the Eiffel Tower?” Ginny asked. “You’ve been all over the world; what country is your
favorite?”

“Oh, I get you,” said Billy, scratching his head. “I’ve never gotten to see too much in France, really. I go there to play
tennis, so, you know, between practice and working out and watching videos of myself and getting my rest and watching the
guys I might play to see how they look, I don’t get to look around or do that kind of thing.”

Billy grinned broadly. “And I always eat the same food, a special diet that I invented. I take a lot of the food with me,
along with lots of vitamins and things.
So I don’t have a chance to try local food. I guess I don’t care too much about that other stuff, anyway. I’m just a tennis
player.”

“And a great one!” Mr. Greeley hastened to say. “You have any ideas what you’re going to do when you retire from tennis?”

“Retire?” Billy stared as if the question was totally weird. “Oh, I don’t think about that. First of all, I’m going to stay
with the tour for another six or eight years. Then there’s the senior tour. I’ll stay in good shape so I’ll play that till
I’m sixty. Then maybe I’ll retire — and keep playing for fun. Or maybe try to get a job on TV, doing analysis, interviews,
something like that,” he finished vaguely.

Steve and Ginny exchanged a look. Steve suddenly knew without a doubt that he didn’t want his life to be like Billy Gardiner’s.
No way. There was too much else to enjoy, too many things he wanted to do.

Now all he had to do was make his dad listen to him. He had to.

S
teve decided that Tony Zaras was the trickiest player he had ever faced. He decided this after he had fallen behind, three
games to none, in the first set of the final. He was being driven crazy by Zaras’s assortment of spins, slices, lobs, and
drop shots, which had him back on his heels and confused. The same thing had happened, he remembered, when he had last played
Tony a month before, and lost.

As he got ready to serve the fourth game, he tried to think of a way to turn this match around. He had to get back in control.
Tony had weaknesses to be attacked. What were they?

There was Tony’s backhand, for one thing. Tony used a two-handed grip. That made the backhand stronger, but it shortened his
reach a little. Maybe Steve could concentrate more on the backhand,
force him to run and lunge more, make Tony the guy who was off balance and uncertain for a change.

He tried the strategy on his next serve. Taking a deep breath, Steve sent a smash down the centerline, making Tony lunge at
it with his two-handed backhand. As Steve had hoped, the return was weak, and he put away the point with a sizzling shot to
the opposite corner.

Encouraged, Steve continued to use the same strategy for the rest of his serve. He was able to keep Tony from using his trick
shots, and took the game.

But Tony came back to hold serve and still led, four games to one. While Steve successfully won his own service games for
the rest of the set, Tony took the set, six games to three.

They continued to hold their serves in the second set, but it seemed to Steve that Tony was slowing down a little and having
more trouble getting his breath. Steve continued to work on Tony’s backhand and to make him run, from side to side and, with
well-placed lobs, from net to baseline.

Uncharacteristically, Steve didn’t charge the net at all until the second set score was four games apiece. He was watching
Tony carefully. He thought
he noticed that Tony had adjusted his play so that he could cover more of the court with his forehand.

On his next serve, Steve hit a ball that was slightly on Tony’s backhand side. Sure enough, Tony sidestepped and made a forehand
return — a slice that bounced away from Steve when it hit the surface. But Steve darted after the ball and returned a strong
forehand. Tony hit it into the net for an unforced error. Steve won the game and led five games to four.

Okay, Steve thought. Time to pour on the juice.

Tony served to begin the next game. Steve slammed a fabulous return, then charged the net. Tony’s hit sent the ball high and
hard, right to Steve’s outstretched racket. The ball flew back over the net so forcefully that Tony could only watch as it
bounced high in the air out of his reach.

Tony’s next serve was a topspin smash. Steve had to leap for it, but he hit it well. Both boys played the point from the baseline,
until Tony hit a drop shot that was designed to bounce twice, softly, before Steve could reach it. Instead it bounced back
on Tony’s side. Tony was definitely tiring. Steve felt a surge of energy.

Tony tried another topspin serve, but Steve
gauged correctly where the ball would go after it bounced and hit a powerful return to Tony’s forehand, in the corner of the
court. Tony, expecting that Steve would hit to his backhand, was caught flat-footed and couldn’t reach the ball. Steve now
had three set points to work with.

Tony seemed rattled and served his first fault of the set. Steve moved in a little. When Tony’s second serve proved soft,
Steve hit it to his backhand, faked a charge toward the net, and then stopped short. Tony hit a lob, assuming that Steve would
continue to the net. Steve was ready. He smashed another return out of Tony’s reach to tie the match at one set apiece.

The crowd roared its approval.

As he prepared to serve the first game of the deciding set, Steve glanced at the stands where his family was sitting. Vince
was with them, of course. A thought flashed across Steve’s mind: If I lose this match, maybe Vince won’t want me at the camp
after all. That would solve his problem, for sure.