David Senra

Andre's dad has this vision of how his son's life's going to be, and he doesn't care.

He couldn't care less what his own son's vision is.

And Andre says, having no choice, having no say about what I do or who I am makes me crazy.

And so he sends Andre away to this, basically this tennis boarding school.

And so Andre describes this school.

When we're not drilling, we're studying the psychology of tennis.

We take classes on mental toughness, positive thinking and visualization.

We're taught to close our eyes and pictures ourselves winning Wimbledon, hoisting the trophy above our heads.

This is when he starts to rebel.

No one seems to notice my antics.

I've mutilated my hair, grown my nails.

I've pierced my body, broken rules, busted curfew, picked fistfights, thrown tantrums, cut classes, even slipped into the girls' barracks after hours.

I've consumed gallons of whiskey.

I chew tobacco and smoke weed.

What new sin can I commit to show the world I'm unhappy and I want to go home?

And yet, as you can imagine, if he's been forced to pick up a tennis racket when he's four, forced to hit a million balls a year, now is sent off to this completely rigorous tennis boot camp.

A decade in, he's really good.

And even though he hates what he's doing, he likes being great at what he does.

I'm 15 years old and I'm beating grown men.

I'm beating them senseless.