Disclaimer

Parenting advice in this blog should not be taken as clinical guidance. Tough love may work in tennis, but it is not yet NICE-approved. Opinions are solely mine (and occasionally contradicted by my wife).

Despite being on annual leave, life doesn’t exactly come with a pause button when you’ve got a child — especially one who seems to collect sports like other kids collect Pokémon cards.

Rather than rehashing last weekend’s martial arts competition (which had enough photos, tears, and victory poses to fill a Rocky training montage), today’s post is about his latest outing: a last-minute tennis tournament in Martock, just outside Yeovil.

The invite came through because they were looking for players, and our son — ever keen, despite what he sees as “setbacks” — was only too happy to put his racket where his mouth is.

When I say “setbacks,” what I really mean is that he still doesn’t recognise his progress. (As far as he’s concerned, unless there’s a trophy the size of his head at the end, it doesn’t count.)

The Journey

9am start time. Which meant a family-sized exodus from Taunton at 8am sharp — the A303 always a potential battlefield of tractors, caravans, and that one person who thinks 42mph is the ideal cruising speed.

Fortunately, the traffic gods were merciful, and we rolled into Martock at 8.40am. Tournament set-up done, matches began fashionably late at 9.45am.

The format: 7 players (4 boys, 3 girls), round robin — one box, one set to 10. Six matches to glory. Or despair. Or something in between.

My personal challenge: keeping our son calm and focused, while my wife was at work. Usually she provides the soothing voice of reason. I… let’s just say I lean toward the “tough love” parenting style. (Feedback so far: “a bit harsh,” “slightly scary,” and “definitely not endorsed by Supernanny.”)

The Matches

Match 1 vs Yusef – Lost 10–5. Strong opponent, good rallies. Cue tears, stomping, and muttered “I hate tennis.” (Standard opening ceremony for these tournaments.)

Match 2 vs Kit (Ilfracombe) – Lost 10–4. Turns out Kit was the Federer of the day, winning all his matches and the tournament outright. No shame there.

Match 3 vs Zani – Win 10–5. First smiles of the day. Brief glimpse of confidence.

Match 4 vs Bronte – Win 10–1. Score looks brutal, but Bronte played better than it suggests. Our son walked off like Djokovic at Wimbledon — swagger and all.

Match 5 vs Sophie – Lost 10–7. Some excellent rallies, but Sophie kept her cool. Our son… less so.

Match 6 vs Che – Lost 10–6. Familiar rival from last year, and once again Che edged it.

The Pattern Emerges

Watching him play is like déjà vu on repeat:

• If he’s ahead, he’s calm, casual, and (sometimes too casual).
• If he’s behind, the floodgates open. Tears, frustration, loss of focus. And as every tennis parent knows: once the head goes, the match follows.

The truth? He’s not far off these players. The difference isn’t technique or skill — it’s mental resilience. If he can learn to manage the “I’m behind, so I’ve already lost” mindset, he’ll become far tougher to beat.

Final Thoughts

By midday, the tournament was done and dusted, run smoothly by David Kirkham, and even blessed with a sliver of sunshine at the end.

Our son didn’t come away with silverware, but he came away with matches fought, lessons learned, and hopefully a few mental notes on keeping his head in the game.

Meanwhile, I came away with the knowledge that “annual leave” is just a fancy HR phrase for “you’ll still be up at 7am, driving to yet another sports event, clutching coffee and questioning life choices.”

And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tomorrow we are heading to Stonehenge and I have a works do to attend in the evening.

Until next time.