Five matches, one bag of chestnuts, and a masterclass in keeping your cool.

Disclaimer:

As always, this is a family blog about our adventures on and off the tennis court. Views expressed are entirely our own (sometimes in the heat of the moment, occasionally after coffee). No tennis racquets were harmed in the making of this story – though a few parental nerves may have been frayed.

Weekends, in theory, are meant for rest and recharging. Ours, as so often, was more about travelling, tennis, and tactical life lessons.

On Saturday morning, we bundled ourselves into the car at 8am sharp, setting off from Taunton towards Devizes, Wiltshire. Google Maps confidently promised a 90-minute journey, and for once it didn’t lie. The weather forecast was sketchy at best – but better than Yeovil, where the competing tournament was actually cancelled. Devizes, however, was very much on.

Registration, Wind and Chestnuts

After registering and warming up (while eyeing the ominous clouds), our son joined a round robin: 6 boys and 5 girls, each match first to 10 points with at least two clear.

The real opponent of the day wasn’t the kids, though – it was the wind. Every six points, the players changed ends, battling gusts that seemed determined to ruin forehands, serves, and parental hairstyles alike.

Between matches, we found distraction in two forms: collecting chestnuts from the surrounding trees and watching a rather surreal fancy-dress cricket match happening on the neighboring field. (Imagine trying to serve while Batman gets bowled out next to you…)

The Matches

Game 1: Vs Ashton Griffiths – 11–9 win. A nervy but positive start. He even saved two match points when 7–9 down. The ready position? Nowhere to be seen. Low-to-high swing? Also missing. But a win is a win, and as everyone knows, when he wins… life is rosy.

Game 2: Vs Sean Adedeji – 6–10 loss. This wasn’t about talent – Sean wasn’t miles better. The issue was upstairs: focus gone, basics ignored. Positives? His behaviour. He didn’t shout or cry. Less positive? A cheeky comment to his mother earned him a swift sideline talk that probably put the fear of Wimbledon into him.

Game 3: Vs Sebastian Shaw – 8–10 loss. Tight game. Opponent’s good serve tipped the balance. Fine margins hurt.

Game 4: Vs Rupert Wimshurst – 6–10 loss. This one stung. Rupert’s serve was practically begging to be punished, but instead our son stood half a postcode behind the baseline and got caught napping four times by balls dribbling just over the net. On a sharper day, he would’ve adapted. On Saturday, he didn’t.

Game 5: Vs Alexander Small – 5–10 loss. By now he’d had enough. Tired, frustrated, and mentally done. The will to compete had left the building.

The Verdict

After nearly four weeks without sport, this was never going to be easy. Rusty technique, tricky wind, and lapses in focus meant results didn’t fall his way. That said, the goals were clear:

• Find out where he is after the break ✔️
• Keep calm even when losing ✔️ (mostly…)

There’s plenty to work on – footwork, ready position, and keeping the head switched on. And honestly, that’s what these tournaments are for: learning, adjusting, and grinding out the basics.

Try explaining that to a seriously competitive seven-year-old who’s playing against kids 18 months older…

Still, progress isn’t always measured in wins. Sometimes it’s measured in chestnuts, resilience, and how few tears are shed when things don’t go your way.