Go-To Travel Guide!

Tis the season for many people to travel either off to a warm paradise for vacation or to some snowy region to visit uncles, grandparents, cousins and other loved ones for the holiday season. 

What better time than now to explain the fascinating little facts of traveling as a pro tennis player (a little bit of sarcasm there), packing and braving the airports?

After reading this you should have no problem preparing to travel with a tennis bag in case the occasion should ever arise for you (more sarcasm-let’s be honest, what percentage of people travel with tennis bags?). 

Many players vary the details in their own ways here—this is my own personal prep-system.  For example, many players check their tennis bags in whereas I bring mine as a carry-on.   My reasoning is as follows: have you ever seen how those guys below the planes toss the checked bags around??  Racquets cost almost $200 a pop if you are not sponsored, and so I keep my equipment as close to my person as possible.   I also think the tension of the string changes with the lack of pressure where the checked luggage compartment lies.  I am not a fan of re-stringing my racquets at every venue.

One friend of mine asked me when she had just finished college and was about to play on the tour, “What should I bring when I go to Mexico?” 

What follows is an extended version of the list that I gave her.  It applies to Mexico, the USA, Australia, Japan, and any other country to which a person could travel.  Consider it my go-to guide for international travel and competing in pro tennis tournaments.  Who knows, there might be some tips in there that apply to the traveling you will be doing in the near future.  

1.      String, preferably a reel.  String is FAR more expensive individually wrapped, and there is no way to predict what kind of string is sold/not sold at any given venue.  In fact, they might not sell string at all where you play which means you then have to either order and pay for shipping the string to that far-off land, or find a way to get to a sports store.  This is more difficult than it sounds.

Let’s say it’s Sunday, you have just popped your last string and you play the next day at 11AM.  Most places will be closed until Monday, and they will open around 10AM, 9AM at the earliest.  If you can even manage to get transportation to the sports store and to the tournament site that early in the morning off the regular tournament transportation route, you will be lucky to make it back in time to warm up for your match.  You can always take a taxi, but that costs money.  It is just cheaper and easier to bring a reel of the string that you like.  

If you will be gone for a long period of time competing, also bring a new pair of tennis and running shoes.  This will save you from the hassle of finding new ones on the road, or ordering them and having them sent to your location—which can be difficult if your location changes every week.

2.       Laundry soap.  Just having some powder soap in a Ziploc bag can be a life-saver.  Shampoo works too (thank you Mom for that tip)—but shampoo typically only really works with very warm/hot water. 

3.      Clothesline.  I have been stuck doing laundry by hand in some tiny hotel rooms and a clothesline can be very useful when you go to hang out your wet clothes with minimal space available.  It takes up next to zero space in a bag.

4.      Lotion!  If you like a particular brand, do NOT assume that every country/store in the world carries it, because they do not. 

This applies if you have a favorite type of face wash, shampoo, sunscreen, deodorant or whatever type of toiletry if there is only one brand or type that works for you.

Random fact:  Australia does not sell sunscreen over SPF 30.  People defend this and say that you cannot get higher protection than 30 but my experience suggests otherwise.  My SPF 70 doesn’t let me get a tan, and I get dark brown with SPF 30. . .you do the math.

5.      Snacks.  For the airplane, for late night snacks after a long day competing.  I like flavored roasted almonds, peanut M&M’s (because peanuts make them healthy), Snickers (again with the peanut equals healthy idea), Trail Mix, and Sweet & Salty almond and peanut granola bars.

Travel is unpredictable, so why go hungry when the schedule gets changed around?  You know it’s bound to happen—so bring a snack and be a happier traveler.

6.      A hat, sleeping mask, or jacket with a hood that can cover your eyes on the plane.  Planes dry you out with all of the air blowing at you all the time-if you don’t want red eyes at the end of the flight cover them up somehow when you sleep. 

7.      A change of clothes for every kind of weather—within reason.  Not a big puffy parka—I’m talking about bringing sweatpants and a jacket to Hawaii in case the weather turns cold (because you know it will freeze the year that YOU decide to go), at least one pair of long pants to Florida, and shorts to Midland, Michigan (they play indoors there and it gets warm in there with the heaters!!). 

8.      Cash.  You will always need this at some point, whether it’s for laundry or a bottle of water at a store on the side of the road.  Not a whole lot, but at least $20.00.

9.      Passport.  Big one here—your best international form of identity.  You need it everywhere-at the hotel, at the airport, the train station, the rental car counter.

10.  Stretching rope and thera-tube.  There is no guarantee there will be a good gym where you go and an arm-band (stretchy, like a thera-tube) can help prevent injuries and keep you strong.  It’s like a portable gym for your arms.  The more you can do with less weight when you’re traveling, the better. 

11.                     PATIENCE AND UNDERSTANDING!!! 

Let’s say I am on an airplane and we are getting in our seats and stowing our carry-on bags when the captain comes on the intercom to say there is a bit of a maintenance problem with the plane and we will have to wait a little bit to take off.  We wait thirty minutes for the notification that the plane is not fit to fly and we will all have to de-plane.  What do I say in this situation?

 “Thank you flight crew for doing your job and picking out a potentially life-threatening maintenance problem with the plane that was just about to carry myself and 200 other passengers 3 miles into the air at speeds up to 600 miles/hour.  I will wait as long as it takes to have a safe plane. I will be happy to move my things, de-plane, take another flying bird, and live to fight another day.”

What do I hear other people saying to their loved ones on cell phones?

“This is ridiculous.  I can’t believe this.  They had us on the plane for 30 minutes and now we have to de-plane and they are going to try to find us another plane. . .unbelievable.”

Would they prefer that the flight crew to ignore the potentially disastrous problem and put us in the air?   What’s better, making it home on time or making it home ALIVE?!  I’ll leave you to make that judgment. 

Another realization that might come as a shock to some of you out there is that the agents at the desks in the airport are NOT the Gods and Goddesses of travel.  They make mistakes, they do NOT know all and many of the passengers coming through have done more traveling and been on more planes than the people working the desks in the airport.  As a result, one must practice patience and treat them with respect given their limited margin of travel knowledge.

            Exhibit A:  I have my tennis bag (which is not the normal rectangular size of other carry-on bags) that I have traveled with as a carry-on for 14+ years on planes everywhere.  The size of it has varied over the years, but not drastically, and the size of my bag nowadays is actually quite a downscale compared to previous years. 

One morning this past November 2010 flying from Phoenix to Dallas/Ft. Worth an agent gave me a hard time over the shape of my bag.  She said that I couldn’t bring it unless I could fit it in the carry-on bag size display.  I thought, if the total volume is the same, why does the shape matter?  They can’t expect me to fit sports gear in a rectangular shaped bag. 

The supervisor had to come out, shove my bag in the display to show that it fit—I knew that the bag would fit, but they didn’t.  Why would they?  They don’t travel everywhere with a tennis bag.  The situation could have turned ugly, but I don’t expect her to know the things about traveling that I have learned from years and years of experience.  If she had that experience, she would know that my tennis bag ALWAYS fits. 

I will leave you with one last tip for the holiday season and the New Year (2011, wow!!).

Remember to put all your liquids (aka sunscreen) from your tennis bag into your checked bag before you try to carry on your tennis bag.  Sunscreen is expensive (try $11.00 a bottle)—if you don’ want to buy new sunscreen in every city it’s worth the trouble. 

Regular sunscreen sizes are almost always over the 3oz liquid allowance.  Even if it’s almost empty and the amount of liquid is below 3 oz what matters is the size of the container.    

Safe (and prepared, hopefully) traveling!!!   

Story

Sight-seeing!

In my opinion, tennis tournament sight-seeing falls easily into three distinct categories that range from best (#1) to awesome (#2) to not so great but still worthwhile (#3). 

#1. Sight-seeing enabled by locals

#2. Sight-seeing experienced with fellow player/friend

#3. Sight-seeing alone with nothing but a camera phone. 

#1.  Australia was one of my most memorable sight-seeing trips because of the local Aussie players and families who took the time to show me around.  I saw the opera house, kangaroos, Melbourne discos, sports/tennis clubs and so much more authentic cuisine and incredible beaches. 

#2.   I had the privilege of sharing Athens and the Acropolis, downtown Prague, and downtown Stuttgart with some great players/people.  Usually sight-seeing is the consolation for losing early in the tournament because you don’t have to stay off your feet or rest anymore for your matches—once you lose you’re free to walk around, get tired and enjoy the incredible places you get to visit-unfortunately. 

#3.  Last in the line of desirable sight-seeing episodes are the adventures without a local guide or a friend and I went alone with, yes, sadly, nothing but my camera phone.  I saw Rome from a tour bus in one day, raced through the Sistine Chapel (how much can you look up and muse with nobody to talk to, even though you’re not supposed to talk??), and had a great time taking pictures of myself in Venice and the Piazza San Marco. 

Option #3 is definitely the “quick and dirty” version of sight-seeing and usually involves a lot of crowd-dodging, fast walking and awkward posing moments where you are obviously taking a picture of yourself with your own phone as people walk by and try not to laugh.

A friend once asked me, “Isn’t it great that you get to see all of this great architecture when you travel to these places?”  I felt guilty because I never really had the time to learn about the places I visited and enjoy the sight-seeing and historical side of places.  My biggest concerns were: 1) where can I do laundry, 3) how expensive is food,  4)is there internet? and 5) where is the nearest grocery store?

After playing for four years, when I decided to coach for a year (Fall of 2008-Spring 2009) and stop playing on the tour I had great motivation to sight-see the right way.  No more “quick and dirty” sight-seeing adventures for me!  I was going to savor a trip for once even if it meant walking until I dropped and taking a million and one pictures. 

I decided on a month in Buenos Aires, Argentina and Jamaica, with two weeks spent in each place over the winter holiday.  Woohoo!  Here I go. . .

In Argentina the Spanish is different from that in Spain and Mexico.   I had been out of Spain/Mexico/Spanish speaking country for more than three months and was itching for some Spanish exposure because of how much it helped me with my mastery of the language.  There’s nothing like trying to listen and reciprocate for learning a language, even if you have all the grammatical and vocabulary bases covered.

Argentina has quietly captivated me for years also because it has my favorite dessert (Dulce de Leche), and my favorite bikini cut for swimsuits—not as full cut as in America, and not as bare as Brazil.

Jamaica is simply a place I had always wanted to visit.  I mean, who doesn’t want to visit Jamaica at some point in their life?? 

The culmination to my explanation of my month-long trek is a little story that I want to share.  This story won’t make you roll with laughter (or maybe it will. . .?) but it will give you a chuckle and, more importantly, I hope it will help you share my sentiment that the little things from different cultures and places are story-worthy material.

And here the story begins. . .

My sight-seeing experience in the Buenos Aires, Argentina leg of the journey brought me to a little movie theater tucked away in a busy shopping area between the San Telmo and more Manhattan style parts of Buenos Aires; the Galerias Pacifico on Avenida Florida (Florida Avenue). 

After walking around for hours exploring the city I figured seeing a movie might be a nice change of pace.  Hey, I had no tournament schedule to adhere to, I could do whatever I wanted!   I bought my ticket that was half the price of any movie ticket in the USA and sat down to watch the movie.

I won’t tell you the name of the movie I saw in case you haven’t seen it, but the basic premise is that the world is ending -- in English, with Spanish subtitles.  

The characters in the movie are in Yellowstone National Park, a Dad and his daughter just found an RV with a map in it pointing to the ship that is supposed to carry the survivors like Noah’s Ark through the world’s new water age after the rest of the world implodes and water covers the crust.

A mother, a step-dad and a son are in a plane waiting for the Dad and the daughter to bring the map-- but Yellowstone Park is on the brink of eruption (literally, starts exploding from the ground)!

The father obtains the RV with the map but they still have to make it back to the runway with the plane.

Balls of fire start are flying all over the place as the Dad rushes the RV to the runway where the other characters wait for him--however, the runway for their airplane is falling apart into a new abyss opening up into the earth and the step-dad does not think they can wait any longer to take off or they will all die regardless of whether they have the map.

More balls of fire start flying around and the step-dad makes the decision to start the plane.  But the mother looks back and screams that she sees the Dad in the RV so they stop while the asphalt in the runway continues to crumble around them. 

The daughter gets out of the RV and makes it to the stopped plane. . .but wait!  The Dad has to find the map in the RV-he finds it!  But as he finds it the runway implodes under him and half of the RV is now hanging over a newly formed chasm in the ground, with the Dad clutching onto the side. 

He manages to crawl to the top, but the people in the plane cannot see him—all they see is the RV that topples over into the chasm in the earth.. . .is that a hand?!  Yes!  It’s him!  He made it out of the RV before it fell, and he is still holding the map! 

It might be too late though, the plane has to take off because the ground is giving way.  The step-dad steps on the gas while the Dad starts running for the plane.  He sprints and jumps into the side of the plane like Bruce Willis in Die Hard!  Their tiny jet speeds down the runway as the ground gives way beneath them.  The wheels leave the ground as the earth turns to fire and dust around them and a cloud of smoke envelopes them. . . .

Blank screen. . .what?    

OK, no problem.  I can handle a little break.  I hear the same movie playing next door and wonder how long this intermission is going to last. . .like I said, the movie cost less than half of what it would have cost in the USA, so I can handle a little wait.

Maybe they do things differently in the movie theaters here (obviously), the five other people in the theater around me don’t seem bothered.  I wait, wait, go to the bathroom, come back, wait. . . .and wait.  The air conditioning is quite cool in here and I’m only wearing shorts and a tank top because it’s warm outside (Southern hemisphere in December is spring/summer).  30 minutes later. . .

I hear triumphant music next door as the movie ends and the credits start to roll. 

They start the movie up again in our theater. . .the little plane is enveloped in smoke while trying to gain altitude, everybody is scared and screaming and the pilot is yelling, ‘Aaaaah,’ with his hand on the stick trying to pull them into the sky. 

They might as well be on the ground singing, “Do, Re, Mi” because my momentum for the movie vanished just like the earth’s crust in the scenes.  Watching the rest of the movie was not an enthralling experience.

Apparently the movie theater only had one reel of the movie and they played it in halves between two different movie theaters at the same time.  Well—at the same time plus a thirty minute intermission!

It’s a good thing their popular ice cream place Freddo’s was close by with some Dulce de Leche ice cream- I had filled up on that earlier so the afternoon as a whole could never be called a waste.

Story

Cat-Calls Galore!!

I thought I would spice up the blog with a humorous and entertaining story from one of my travels.  I will call it my “Mexican cat-call story.”  There’s not much insight into the world of professional tennis in this story compared to my other blogs, mostly it’s just funny. 

I will start first with the necessary prologue to the story; my classification of the “cat-call” system in the latin-speaking countries I’ve visited.  This includes Mexico, Venezuela, Spain and Argentina. 

Mexico is by far number one on the list for rudest cat calls.  You cannot go out and walk on the streets in shorts, especially if you have light skin and light hair, without getting a “pssst, pssst,”  whistle, “oye mami” (hey mama) or a “que guapa,” (very pretty) directed your way as you walk by.

 Spain is second on the list of worst cat-calls because of how often you hear them, but they vary from the cat calls in Mexico because of the simpler type of cat-call used.  In Spain, from what I observed in my experiences, the men are satisfied to stick with the classic, “psst, psst,” as they watch you walk by.

Argentina is third on the list of worst cat-calls and second on my list of preferences (second only to a no cat-call scenario).  When explaining my experiences in Buenos Aires to my parents I told them that “I really feel like people mean their cat-calls here, and it has a way of actually making me feel attractive.”  This is because they do not whistle at everything that walks.  The frequency of, “psst, psst” and “que guapa” sounds is just enough to make you believe they truly appreciate what they are seeing as you walk by.

In Venezuela I speed-walked my way through the streets, a 200 meter stretch at the maximum, because I did not feel safe.  Therefore I actually have nothing to say about Venezuelan cat-calls and Venezuela is 4^th on my list of worst cat-calls simply because of the safety factor.  It’s not really a fair placement on a cat-call list, but lack of safety puts anything at the bottom of the pile.   

And now, finally, we begin my:

Mexican Cat-Call Story

I am in a town called Coatzacoalcos, Mexico and staying at a house that is walking distance from the beach.  It is not a nice beach, but it is a beach.  There was another player staying with me in the house and we decide to go the beach one day on a day off (lots of times they stagger first round matches on Tuesday and Wednesday so you don’t play your second round match until Thursday—this is because of umpire availability). 

We walk down the beach in the midst of cat calls from Mexican workers doing some construction work on homes nearby.  No problem, they are just cat calls.

My friend sits down at the beach to relax and I decide I want to do some sprints on the sand, since it’s a day off and everything.  I take off my shirt and have my sports bra on underneath and the beach seems to be empty except for a lady sitting over by the street and another person way down on the other side.  I put a line down on the sand and start doing my sprints hoping not to land on some glass that might be buried in the sand—like I said we are not visiting a super nice beach. 

I see the lady over by the street get up and start walking towards us—I try to ignore her and not think anything of it but pretty soon she starts approaching me and trying to speak to me in Spanish.  I can kind of understand her because I speak Spanish.  She compliments me on my athletic physique and points to her own bulging tummy and says, “Oh you are so fit, not like me, look at this stomach,” --at least that is what I understood from her mixture of grabbing her stomach, flapping it around and complimenting me. 

Then she asks me a question that I don’t understand in Spanish.  I say, “What?” and tell her I don’t understand.  She kept saying the word “salchicha,” and I knew I heard her correctly but at the same time could not understand why she was talking to me about a sausage.  Finally she asked me, very slowly, “A ti te gusta a las salchichas o a las mujeres?” (Do you like sausage or women?)

Well, I told her that I was not into women and she bashfully said, “OK, OK,” and went back to her spot up by the street.  She was genuinely trying to get herself a date!!  I finished my workout and we left the beach.

About two days later my friend was sun-bathing in the backyard of the people that we were staying with and the son informed her that a bunch of Kindergardeners were coming over for a party (the mother was an English teacher in a nearby school).  It probably would not have been appropriate for her to continue her tanning activities in the backyard.

Determined to get her tan on, my friend decided to go down to the beach.  I asked her if she was crazy going to a public beach in Mexico with blonde hair and a bathing suit.  We can’t even walk down the street in shorts without being whistled at, who knows how people would react if there was actually some real skin showing! 

My friend was determined, and also from a country in Europe called Latvia.  Europeans are typically less averse than Americans like me to showing some skin, especially on beaches.  This particular girl is quite a free spirit anyways, and she wanted that tan.  Sooo, we made the trek down to the beach- I knew I had to go with her because two is always safer than one.

We arrive at the beach, marauded by the usual cat-calls from the construction workers on the way there and she takes her outer wear off and lays on the beach.  I stood there, looking at the ocean, fully clothed-bored but the sun is going down so I know we won’t be there for long.  The beach appears relatively empty.

All of a sudden I hear my friend say, “Oh my God, Oh my God,” and I look over to find the woman from two days ago standing over here, having sprinted from wherever she was, saying, “I love you woman!  You so sexy!!  I love you!” in English and running around in circles in the sand around my friend who is in her swimsuit on the ground. 

After maybe two minutes of this show and having said her piece, the lady turns and sprints back to her hiding spot.  She apparently had forgotten all about the episode from two days ago because she didn’t even look at me—she loved the sight of my friend in her bikini too much!

Well, my friend grabbed her clothes and we high-tailed it away from the beach and back to the house.  The people we stayed with (our “housing” in tennis lingo) were quite amused by our stories about the lady at the beach, and we didn’t return to the beach again on that trip.

Story

Let Me Check My Schedule. . .

Here’s the fun blog (yay!) where I documented my daily activities during a tournament week.  As luck would have it the tournament week I chose was particularly fun and filled with rare and amazing experiences and places; I went to Puerto Rico. 

As you read along you will find hints for the answers to these pro player FAQ’s (people always ask me these):

1.       Am I friends with the other players?

2.       Do I ever get to sight-see when I travel and play?

It is worth mentioning that the answer to #2, according to this week in my life, is an exception to the norm because I was lucky enough to have some free time as well as a local guide.

I would like to explain a little of the scheduling logistics for matches during tournaments before the daily schedule starts.  At professional tournaments they have certain assigned courts (as many as they can fit with the amount of umpires available- we do not call our own lines) and on those courts there is an order of play and a starting time for the first match on that court.  Players stay on their same assigned court and wait for the matches to finish that are in front of them.  If I am, “second on after 10,” that means the first match starts at 10 and my match follows that one.  Whenever it finishes the player has to be ready to get on the court and play their match. 

The only variation to this is when they give you “not before” times.  This means that they say your match definitely cannot start before a certain time.  This is done many times for matches that are scheduled much later in the day or at night.   

And now, we begin. 

Friday, Oct. 22, 2010:

I wake up at 8AM, go to work and fill up water/blow the courts off since Friday is my scheduled day.  I string two racquets and go back home around 11AM, pack and go back to work so I can take the shuttle to the airport (I work at the Hilton DFW Lakes by the DFW airport).  My flight leaves DFW at 4:30PM and arrives at 9:50PM in San Juan, Puerto Rico (I bought the flight with my miles which still cost $50 because it was so close to the date of departure). 

The flight is uneventful except that my book runs out and I have no battery left on my laptop to finish my blog entry.  In Puerto Rico I have arranged with a cousin of a friend to stay at an apartment that he (the cousin) owns—this will save me hundreds of dollars that I would have had to spend on a hotel every night during my stay.  We arranged for him to pick me up at the airport and help me get to the rental car pickup the next day. 

He has recommended me to a local car rental place called “Charlie’s Rent-A-Car”.  My flight arrives early in San Juan, PR and I find Jaime (the cousin) outside at baggage claim.  He drives me to Rio Grande where his apartment is—it’s raining but he tells me that it is on and off all the time.  He speaks very good English even though I can speak Spanish just fine. 

We plan the next day, eat at a restaurant by the apartment where I try some ‘tostones’ -- fried plantains that are smashed and then fried again.  Yum!  The Texas Rangers are on the television over at the bar, they have just made it to the World Series.   By 11PM I am secure in the apartment and by 11:20PM I’m in bed.  The place is absolutely amazing and I know the beach is right there so I can’t wait to see it in the daylight.

Saturday, Oct. 23:

The night before I left the storm shades open at night on purpose so the sun would wake me up in the morning in time to see the sun rise on the beach and take a picture.  After taking a picture, I shut the shades and go back to bed.  I wake up again at 8:45AM, finish writing blog #4 and wait for Jaime to pick me up to go get the rental car.  I wonder whether my cellular phone will be charged extra in Puerto Rico, that’s something I will have to figure out.   At 11:30AM Jaime arrives and we go pick up the rental car.

Once I have the car Jaime leaves and I am on my own with a GPS to navigate to the tournament site.  I am nervous but I have done things like this a thousand times so I get right to it and start the trip.  Jaime’s pre-configuration for the GPS doesn’t take me exactly there, but using the address that I have for the club I put in another address for the club and it is not far away in the town called Bayamon. There is a football stadium (soccer) and other athletic facilities around the tennis courts in this part of Bayamon, but there really is no beach because it’s in the middle of Puerto Rico.

 I arrive at the courts in my tiny white rental car by 2 PM and I look for somebody to practice with.  Sign-in for the qualifying is from 3-6PM (in the qualifying you have to sign in, and in 25K’s you have to be there in person for the sign in) but I need $40 cash for the entry fee (In anything over a 32 qualifying draw in 25K’s you don’t get any prize money if you lose first round so you have to give the entry fee up front in cash).  The tournament director shows me the way to a cash machine close by.

 I hit with the tournament director’s best young Puerto Rican player for 15 minutes (getting new balls for practice and cold bottled water in return, what a deal!) and then hit with another player from 3-4 after signing in.  It is clear early on that I will not play until Monday because there are some byes in the qualifying and I am one of the seeded players who will receive one of those byes. 

Earlier I had arranged for my doubles partner to share the apartment with me and also the rental car.  She is taking a flight on this Saturday and hitching a ride with some other players to the tournament site.  She arrives at the club at 4:30PM so I wait for her to practice and we leave to go back to Rio Grande at 5:30 PM.  The trip takes about an hour (without traffic) and we arrive back around 6:30PM.  There is food already in the apartment so we pull off a couple creative culinary masterpieces, dine, ooh and ahh about how awesome the apartment is where we are staying, and then go to bed.

Sunday, Oct. 24: 

I wake up at 7:15AM, leave for the courts at 7:50 AM and hit in Bayamon at 9AM.  After hitting for an hour it starts raining so we wait, squeegee the courts and hit again from 10:45 until 11:10 at which point a couple other players bump us off the practice court.  When we find another open court we hit again from 12-12:30PM. 

I would like to mention at this point how warm and humid the weather is in Puerto Rico.  I forget the exact temperature but it was HOT and I was wringing out my clothes after hitting for just an hour.  I do sweat a lot, more than the average player, but still. . .anyone there would tell you it was hot, hot, hot!!!

Believe it or not there is a Subway right around the corner from the club for lunch. 

We then drive back to Rio Grande and shower, change and organize an incredible adventure! Three other players (Amanda, Macall and Megan) decide to come to the El Yunque rainforest with us and our local friend Jaime.  El Yunque just happens to be right across the street from where we are staying. . .literally! 

The three other players manage to make their way to the apartment where we stay at about 3:30PM and together with Jaime we all leave for El Yunque.  The experience is amazing, we see two beautiful fresh water waterfalls, go for a swim, take photos and see as much giant foliage as I have ever seen in my life (see pictures).   

We stay until it gets too dark for pictures around 6:00PM, then we change (wet from waterfalls!) and go to dinner at an amazing local seafood restaurant close by that we found thanks to Jaime’s local know-how.  I try the ‘mofongo’ which is basically mashed plantains in a ball and you put lobster (or chicken or beef or whatever) in a yummy sauce over it.  Amazing!! 

By 8PM we are done eating, we go back to the apartment, the girls leave and I am left to make phone calls and check emails.   I am exhausted and in bed by 8:45PM.

 Tomorrow I play second match after 9AM.

Monday, Oct. 25: 

I wake up at 7:30AM, we leave at 8:20AM and arrive in Bayamon at 9:30AM.  I warm up with my doubles partner from 9:45-10:10AM.  I play my match from 10:30-11:30AM against a young Canadian and come out successful with a 6-2, 6-0 win. 

This means that I have now qualified for the main draw and earned myself one full point.

 We eat lunch at Subway again, watch the press conference for the tournament in the players’ lounge and leave the courts at 2:15PM.  We arrive back in Rio Grande at 4 PM after stopping for groceries.  

I drop Liz (doubles partner) off at the apartment and go to the Caribbean Trading Company  gift shop close to the El Yunque rainforest for souvenirs.  I find some really beautiful sarongs and decide on a blue one with white flowers going across the middle to decorate a bare wall in my apartment back in Dallas.

I come back from looking at some other gift shops at 5:30PM, make dinner (another creative masterpiece you can be sure), watch the movie Sex and the City II, make some phone calls and then it’s bedtime at 10PM.  

My main draw singles match doesn’t start until Wednesday but Liz plays tomorrow and we are also scheduled for our first round of doubles fourth on after 9AM.

Tuesday, Oct. 26: 

I wake up at 7:15AM, we leave at 8:10AM and the drive to Bayamon takes us 1 hour and 20 minutes.  We hit at 9:30AM, pause for some rain and I hit again with another person at 10:30AM to warm them up for their match.  I go change (remember the serious sweat factor?), get some Gatorade, hang out in the players’ lounge and walk next door to the bakery/restaurant for lunch. 

 While watching Liz play her match the tournament supervisor informs me that our doubles opponents defaulted because one of our them got sick from heat in her singles match.  I watched her go to the hospital in an ambulance to get an IV.   Liz loses a tough one and we drive back to Rio Grande for an hour.

 We both go to the Caribbean Trading Company this time on the way home to look at more sarongs for my bare apartment walls and something for Liz’s sister. 

Jaime has put our names on the list for the complex with beach access so after perusing the gift shops we get our bathing suits on at 4PM and head for la playa (the beach).  A 10 minute jog and a bazillion photos later by 6PM we are back in apartment trying to clean the sand out of our suits.

 I shower,  make dinner, eat, clean the kitchen, do some arm exercises plus stretch, then sit down for a second at 7:30 PM to outline this blog entry.  Then I begin the important business of watching a vampire king execute his only daughter and start a war with werewolves -- ‘Underworld/Rise of the Lycans,’ is an entertaining movie.

 I got nervous that night about my travel plans back to Dallas since my flight wasn’t booked yet and I didn’t know what the flight prices would be.  So I sat up for a bit to hold a price and book a flight on Saturday evening to the tournament starting on Sunday at the club where I work in Dallas.  I also iced my back, feet and shoulder in bed while falling asleep.  I play second after 9AM tomorrow.

Wednesday, Oct. 27:

I wake up at 7:00AM feeling groggy and tired, we leave by 7:30AM and arrive a mere 2 hours later in Bayamon at 9:30AM.  Luckily there has been a little bit of rain that delayed the match playing before mine for about 30 minutes, this lets me breathe easier and I am not rushed in the warm up.  Liz hits with me for 30 minutes from 9:45-10:15AM and I start my singles match around 12:00PM. 

About 3 rain delays and 2 hours, 30 minutes later I have lost 6-3, 7-6 (4) against a girl I beat in the finals of a tournament in Caracas, Venezuela about 3 years ago.  I am exhausted so I let Liz drive back to where we are staying (we are still following the GPS every step of the way).  

Once we reach the apartment we make dinner and rest.  I spend about an hour on the phone trying to figure out an apartment bill that seems like an overcharge to me. 

We play the second round of doubles (quarterfinals) tomorrow, fourth match on after 9AM.

Thursday, Oct. 28: 

My back is hurting when I wake up at 8:45AM so I ice it until it’s good and numb, we leave at 9:30AM and arrive there at 10:30AM. We warm up from 12-12:45PM and start our doubles match around 2.  The match ends around 3:15 and we have come out the winners with a 10-6 third set tiebreaker score.  Trying to beat traffic we drive back to the apartment and also stop for groceries. 

Trying to do something nice for Jaime for letting us stay in his apartment, I get out a bucket, a mop and some bleach and clean the floors.  Call me neurotic or call it a nice gesture both probably fit.  We do some laundry, I ice my back and we have a feast of pizza, Caesar salad and pina coladas that I have blended up with vodka instead of rum by accident.  I am in bed by 9PM. 

We play the semifinals of doubles the next day and if we lose I will have to change my flight to arrive earlier for the next tournament.  If we win I will pray and beg the USTA supervisors who make the schedules to start the doubles final on Saturday with enough time to finish and catch the last flight out to Dallas at 5PM so I can still play singles that Sunday.   

Friday, Oct. 29: 

I wake up at 6:15AM and we leave by 6:50AM.  We arrive at the courts by 8:30AM and warm up at 9AM for 45 minutes.  There are much fewer players around now that the tournament is further along, which means that we have no problem at all getting a court all to ourselves for a warm up.

 I eat a small lunch and take a cat nap in the players’ lounge on one of the couches.  To wake up we hit for another 30 minutes.  We get on the court at 2PM only to have 2 more rain delays before we can even finish the 5 minute pre-match warm up.   Third time is the charm and we finally start the match.  We struggle in the beginning and come back in the second set only to lose the third set 10-7 around 4:30PM.  Liz and I get our prize money and are bummed when we find out about the 20% tax.

 We get back to apartment by 6PM, make dinner, clean the apartment, shower, pack our bags, and I ice my back.  We call Delta to see if we can get an earlier flight the next morning to Dallas.  Delta tells us that we have to call 3 hours before the flight that we want departs.  Since we want the 8:45AM flight (getting us in only at 3PM) that means we have to call them the next morning at 5:45AM.   

We want to see Old San Juan before we leave so Jaime, being our local host, picks us up around 8:30 PM and drives us to the city.  We see the old fort, some great local music, and the beautiful city plus some fun souvenir shops.  The city is incredible and one of a kind, even though we only saw it at night.   We don’t get back to the apartment and in bed until 12:30AM.

Saturday, Oct. 30:           

We leave at 6AM for the rental car place to return the car and go to the airport after calling and confirming our flight change onto the 8:45AM flight.  We arrive in Dallas at 3PM, go directly to the courts, practice and sign in.  I have to go to the bank to get a check for a bill and get some food for breakfast (I didn’t leave anything in the fridge because I knew I would be gone for a week).  The soonest I can get to bed is 9:20PM.

 I play the next day third match on after 9AM-I requested a later start time because of the travel-if you have a match in the tournament from the previous week close enough to the start of another tournament the supervisors will usually try to accommodate the players and give them a later start time.

Sunday, Oct. 31—HALLOWEEN

I get up the next day at 8AM, my doubles partner this week is staying with me in my apartment, we get to the courts and realize that there are no on-site warm up courts.  More than that, we realize that the matches on our courts are going by very quickly.  My partner (Alina) is too nervous to go to the off-site courts to warm up because she doesn’t want to miss her match.

We improvise; one of the courts at the tournament site is not being used for matches and the net is down so we make a pretend net by putting some chairs up.  We are successful in that we don’t hit anybody, we don’t disturb the match courts, we get a decent warm up and we didn’t accidentally miss our matches.

I don’t remember what time I got on the court and I don’t remember the exact score but it was something like a 6-2, 6-1 victory for me.  By the time I finished and figured out the next day schedule and warm-up it was later in the day around 6PM.  I went home exhausted and went to bed very early.  My match the next day is second on after 9AM.

The next day I had a 3 hour match that I lost after being up a set and 5-2, and the tournament got rained out on the Tuesday when we were scheduled for our first doubles match.  Our match was rescheduled for Wednesday, and then cancelled and rescheduled again for Thursday.  We lost first round.  I flew to Phoenix that Saturday to play in another tournament where the singles qualifying started on that Sunday.    

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Let's Get Ready to Cook!!

I have what one might call a “working knowledge” of the points and money system of the WTA Tour.  It’s kind of like somebody who can cook but couldn’t write out the recipe for somebody else and make that other person’s food turn out the same way.

 I have an accurate sense of how difficult it is to break into the top 100 ranking-wise in singles or doubles, and how hard it is to really make a living at certain ranking levels but I couldn’t tell you how much you make exactly for losing first round in doubles in a 50K off the top of my head.  For my position in this sport as a player it makes sense that I would have that working knowledge instead of just the book knowledge memorized of how many points and how much money you earn for each round in each kind of tournament—it’s a working knowledge based on experience.

 What I have determined and come to find is that tennis is a very top-heavy sport in terms of reward.  I will do my best to give you my recipe for “top-heavy women’s professional tennis.”  

Currently, the top ranked player in the world Carolina Wozniacki has 7,680 points total counting towards her ranking, the 100^th ranked player has 693 points, the 150^th ranked player has 422 points, and the 300^th ranked player has 159 points total.  What do you notice?  The points drop off dramatically the further down you go, right?

Basically, the points are allocated such that if you win only one round in certain WTA Tour tournaments you could make as many points for winning an entire ITF Circuit event.  For example, you get 70 points from winning a 50K—in a WTA Tier II tournament you get 70 points from winning one round.  But the WTA tournaments only have 32 size main draws (the main draws are where those points are, qualifying is more ITF-level point allocation). 

So if there are two WTA tournaments going on in the world at one time that could take the top 64 players in the world and the rest have to make it through qualifying.  And qualifying has mostly players ranked from 60-190 in the world on a consistent basis. 

The WTA championships in Doha in the end of the year only invites the top 12 players in the world and has points way beyond any ITF level points.  With the point system you could win two matches in a WTA tournament and earn as many points as you would get for winning two ITF Circuit tournaments, 10 matches (not counting qualifying) back to back in two weeks.  That’s the equivalent of a Grand Slam in terms of matches and time period.  I believe you play less than 10 matches if you win a Grand Slam actually. 

Let’s add some salt now. 

Player P ranked 200 in the world for about two years, ex-college player goes to the US Open Qualifying.  She qualifies, winning three matches against girls ranked anywhere from 110-220 in the world.  One of those players she beat had beaten Venus Williams 3 years previously at age 15 and then been suspended for doping for 2 years, just a little anecdote there to give you a sense of the level.  Player P then wins her first round in the US Open Main Draw!  And then, to top it all off, she beats the then-#1 ranked player in the world Ana Ivanovic to advance to the third round of the US Open.  Wow, right?  She’s made it you think, right?   

After winning 5 matches at a Grand Slam (which by the way has the most points out of any tournament, qualifying included) she is only ranked about 165 in the world, going up about 35 spots.  Whaaaat?!  OK, OK, don’t panic- after last week’s explanation of the ranking system perhaps you can understand how that could happen-it’s all based on a 365 day playing calendar and they take your best 16 or so tournaments right? 

 Player P goes on that fall to win a 100K ITF Pro Circuit event and advances up to 120 or so in the world.  She also gets to the finals of a 75K that same fall and finally her ranking is pushed up to 100 in the world.  She goes main draw into the Australian Open the following January, wins a round and earns herself a world ranking of 80.   

Finally she has “made it” one might say—she will be main draw in the Grand Slams with that ranking which is $16,000 each time you show up for singles, and she will be able to consistently play in WTA Tour events so her ranking will remain steady with consistent results.  You see that it took consistently superb results at both WTA tournaments and ITF Circuit events for her to reach that 80 world ranking. 

There are girls ranked 200 in the world (way outside of the realm of pop culture recognition) who have qualified for Grand Slams in the last year.

We can see that Player P got the big points and got to the third round of the US Open.  She won, and almost won, two entire very large ITF Circuit events but that was really only the equivalent of one or two rounds in a WTA tournament—hence she was only 80 by the time she finished the Australian Open.  If you’re winning those events you are ranked top 10 probably.  Those ITF Circuit events she succeeded in were filled with players ranked anywhere from 80-200 in the world. 

You have to have good success at the ITF level to get a ranking that puts you into the qualifying of WTA events and then you have to push through the qualifying of WTA events and succeed in the main draw.  And then you have to consistently win in the WTA events.  It is extremely hard to break through.  Player P beat the #1 player in the world and she was still only ranked 165.

The point disparity makes sense in that you should always earn more at the top as a reward for performance and motivating factor, but the difference between the top 100 and top 200 players is minute and the cutoff for WTA tournaments doesn’t really honor that.  

Time to turn up the burner to ¾ full heat.

 Another aspect of “top heavy” is how hard the WTA makes it for players to break through to the top, and how much easier they have made it for those already at the top to remain there.  Remember, the difference between the “top” and “bottom” to a player is the difference between making a handsome living or barely covering travel expenses and needing a sponsor to get by.  This means everything to us players and is the most critical part of our profession.    

The WTA changed their ranking rules some years ago that made it harder for players to push through onto the WTA Tour.  During my first exposures to pro tournaments (2003-2005) there were bonus points for beating players with certain rankings.  I got double points for beating a top 500 player at a tournament in Los Gatos, CA when I was a junior at Stanford.  They stripped away those bonus points for beating players with certain rankings.  Whether I beat Serena Williams or somebody ranked 750, all that matters is the points from the round of the tournament we are playing.

The effect of that rule was to take away any accelerating factor for somebody trying to climb the rankings.  Without that rule, no matter who you beat you’re going to have to grind to earn your ranking and nothing is going to happen very quickly.  The rule was only a bonus for those who were at the top earning WTA-caliber points before the new rule came out- that new rule seems to cater to those certain players although the WTA argued that it wouldn’t make a difference to anybody.  

Those players who were already earning points—WTA tournament level points—did not have to worry about what ranking player they lost to, or whether they themselves lost to somebody else with a lower ranking thereby catapulting that other person up in the rankings quickly anymore.  These days the only thing that can accelerate your rise up is a good agent, some steady wildcards and a serious winning streak.

 The WTA keeps putting new rules in place that make it easier for the top girls to maintain their top status and harder for the up and coming girls to push through.  The very next thing that the WTA did after taking away bonus points was to take away points for qualifying in 25K ITF events and some first round loser points in 10K and 25K ITF events. 

I used to earn 3 points if I won three rounds to qualify for a 25K.  You know how many I get now?  1.  And I used to get 1 point for losing first round in a 25K as a direct acceptance.  You know how many I get now?  0.  I also get 0 points for losing in the first round of a 10K, compared with 1 before.  Now you may not think that would make much of a difference, but the point system doubled since then so what was once 3 is now 6.  They have kept the 1 as 1, the real change was taking away points from qualifiers at 25K ITF events. 

The level of 25K ITF events is essentially equal to that of 50K tournaments, but the points are not.  I beat a good college player and then a player ranked 240 in the world to qualify and then lost first round in a 25K and got 1 whole point for my endeavors.  If I had won that first round I would have gotten 8 points.  8 points for one match versus 1 point for two matches= top heavy.

Stir slowly and bring down to a simmer.

Qualifiers at 50K, 75K and 100K events also now get the same points.  If you qualify it’s a whopping 6 points-even though the difference between a first round win in a 50K versus a 100K is 10 versus 18 points.  And the qualifying for a 100K is much stronger than the qualifying of a 50K.  Obviously they are rewarding the main draw players for success.  But again, my argument is that the difference in level between the players in the main draw versus the qualifying does not warrant this difference in points--and on top of that I think that system skews the rankings.

As a quick refresher and comparison, on the men’s side they don’t get ANY points for qualifying, not even in a 100K event.  However, the men have many more tournaments going on across the globe than the women at any given time so essentially they have more opportunity.    

My coach from Seattle always tells me that the ATP was designed to support 150 professional athletes and the business model for the WTA Tour was originally designed for about 100.  I think it’s time for a remodel.  The game has changed and gotten deeper. 

World Team Tennis and Club teams in Europe add to the economy of professional tennis, and they are good things in my mind especially for the support that they provide the lower ranked players who are still professionals and dang good.  Money tournaments do the same thing (play for prize money but it is not WTA sanctioned) sometimes, unless it’s by invitation only and they only invite highly ranked players.  

Take off the burner and let cool until it reaches a solid consistency.

The last aspect of the ‘top heavy’ recipe is the money differences between the top players and the lower ranked players, quite simply the money goes side by side along with the points.  If you are top 10 you get appearance fees, not to mention you have the kind of fame that will win you big endorsement deals and people will pay you giant sums to play in exhibition matches.  Top 50 is where the athletes earn really exorbitant amounts of money as well as save on traveling costs because they get more and more things for free while gaining a more celebrity status especially in their native country.

The difference between the lifestyles and earnings of the top 10 versus the rest of the top 100 players is like oil in a jar of water—they are in the same glass and one is right on top of the other but they don’t mix.  The fame and glory goes to the best of the best, the top 10 are the oil in my example while the other 90 players are the water.  Everybody is in the glass but one group is clearly above the rest in terms of earnings and fame. 

How many top 10 players can a person off the street even name?  It’s more like the best tennis players of each era—the number 1 players, the record-breakers, the prodigies and miracle-makers who get the real fame and money.  Mostly from endorsements and exhibitions.  If that isn’t an example of top-heavy reward then I don’t know what is.

Cut into desired shape and serve cold.

And there you have it folks: my own home-made recipe for “top heavy women’s professional tennis.” 

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