David Senra

It's all very Groundhog Day, same venue, same opponents, only the years and the scores are different.

I tell him the central truth, the fact that he hates tennis.

If that's true, he says, why play?

I'm not suited for anything else.

I don't know how to do anything else.

Tennis is the only thing I'm qualified for.

And my father would have a fit if I did anything different.

Gil scratches his ear.

This is a new one to him.

He's known hundreds of athletes, but he's never known one who hated athletics.

He doesn't know what to say.

I reassure him that there's nothing to be said.

I don't understand it myself.

I can only tell him how it is.

And then Gil thinks about this for a while, and sometime later, he passes along some words that his mother would tell him as pieces of advice to Andre.

How lovely it is to dream while you're awake.

Dream while you're awake, Andre.

Anybody can dream while they're asleep, but you need to dream all the time and say your dreams out loud and believe in them.

And what they're referencing is even though Andre is one of the most talented tennis players alive, his head, the inner game of tennis, the mental aspect is keeping him from winning.

He is self-sabotaging.