New Year, New Tournament, Same Emotional Whiplash

Disclaimer

This blog contains junior tennis, parenting opinions, emotional regulation strategies that may not be NICE-approved, and competitive behaviour from children who are still missing several adult teeth. All views are personal, observational, and written with hindsight. No umpires were harmed in the making of this post.

As explained in my previous entry, food was in progress on New Year’s Eve. Serious food. Confident food. “We are definitely hosting people” food.

We had invited our neighbours around, but unfortunately they were unwell—almost certainly the same bug that had already taken down both me and my wife earlier in the week. A very community-spirited virus.

So instead of a social gathering, it was just the three of us… and enough food to cater a medium-sized wedding.

Everyone loved my slow-cooked gammon. Ten hours marinated in pineapple juice, followed by 45 minutes in the oven with a honey, brown sugar and mustard glaze.
Objectively excellent.

Unfortunately, when I carved it, the gammon collapsed.
Not sliced. Not pulled. Just… disintegrated.

What we had was gammon crumble.
Delicious, yes.
Visually unsettling, also yes.

After the main course came cheese time (non-negotiable) and a leftover Yule log that had clearly seen better days but was still prepared to give it one last go.

Following a food coma of clinical significance, we gave up on staying awake until midnight and went to bed at around 11pm. We slept straight through the fireworks, the new year, and a worrying number of missed messages wishing us happiness, health, and productivity.

New Year’s Day: Mild Recovery and Science

New Year’s Day itself was quiet. We went to We The Curious in Bristol—a science museum we have a membership for. It’s excellent, interactive, and includes a planetarium that is always worth a visit.

Space. Stars. Perspective.
All very grounding.

Today was back to work for my wife and my last day of annual leave.
It was also the first day of the year when tennis tournaments resume, which felt about right.

The Dragon Tour Arrives

Last month we received an email from Tim Seymour, Somerset U8/U9 tennis coach, announcing that the Dragon Tour—previously a U8 event—was expanding into the U9 circuit.

Ten tournaments across nine months.
Plenty of match play.
And, importantly, LTA points, which start to matter more and more as tournaments become stronger and entry requirements more selective.

For readers who do not routinely spend their weekends in sports halls watching eight-year-olds debate line calls, a brief reminder of how junior tennis generally progresses:

Beginner / Local Club Tennis – learning to get the ball over the net with some regularity, discovering that serving is harder than it looks, and realising tennis involves a surprising amount of running. Results exist, but nobody is tracking them seriously yet.
Early Competitive / Local Tournament Level – organised competitions begin, basic tactics emerge, and players experience the emotional rollercoaster of winning one match and losing the next—sometimes within the same hour.
County-Level Competitive Tennis – this is where things start to matter. Matches are tougher, opponents are familiar, and results are remembered. Rankings are discussed quietly by parents, and LTA points move from being abstract to mildly stressful.
Strong County to Regional Level – consistency separates players. There are fewer easy matches, mistakes are punished efficiently, and progress is measured more by results than enthusiasm.
Regional to National Pathway – higher-grade tournaments, stronger fields, and the sobering realisation that everyone here is very good. Development continues, but margins become small and very visible.

The Dragon Tour sits firmly in that county competitive space—designed to provide structured match play, pressure situations, and a route into the points system, while still officially being described as developmental. How developmental it feels on the day may vary.

All Dragon Tour events are Somerset-only and classed as Grade 6, which—personally—feels slightly harsh given the strength of the field, but rules are rules.

When asked last month if he wanted to play, our son replied immediately:

“Of course.”

A Brief (Entirely Subjective) Snapshot of the Current U9 Landscape

As explained—sometimes repeatedly—in earlier tennis blog entries (particularly around last autumn’s Grade 3 and Grade 4 adventures), junior tennis does not exist in a vacuum. Players develop at different speeds, confidence fluctuates wildly, and the pecking order has a habit of shifting just when you think it has settled.

That said, looking at the current crop of U9 boys in Somerset, there does appear to be a slightly larger group who, at this moment in time, stand a bit above the rest.

This is entirely my own observation, based on watching matches, results, and general on-court behaviour—rather than any official ranking, spreadsheet, or parental WhatsApp consensus.

Right now, that group probably consists of seven to eight players who tend to separate themselves once tournaments become competitive:

Austin Carroll
Monty Carroll
Charlie Tackle
Zachary Meehan
Edward Smith
Henry Deem
Ted
…and, inevitably, our son

Not necessarily in that order, and not consistently on every given weekend—but these are the players who more often than not find themselves deep into draws, involved in longer matches, and learning lessons the hard way.

As mentioned in previous entries, early success last year gave our son a slight sniff of winning more regularly than was probably helpful. Since then, the steady rise of the Carroll twins in particular—alongside the continued development of Zachary, Edward, Henry and Ted—has made the hierarchy far more fluid and considerably less forgiving.

Which, to be clear, is exactly how it should be.

I can’t meaningfully comment on the girls’ side of the draw—not out of lack of respect, but simply because I focus almost exclusively on our son’s matches, progress, mistakes, and emotional responses (or lack thereof).

This Dragon Tour event felt very much like one of those season-reset moments previously described on this blog: new year, points wiped, expectations recalibrated, and the reminder that nothing in junior tennis is carried over—except experience.

Tournament Day: Reality Returns

Entered at the last minute, we had 11 players in total—boys and two girls—all Somerset County players.

As my wife was working, tournament logistics and emotional containment fell to me.
Regular readers will know that my wife and I have very different approaches to tears, tantrums and sporting injustice.

This was about to become relevant.

11:30am at Blackbrook Pavilion. Warm-up begins.

The draw wasn’t online beforehand—which is probably fine and definitely not something I would ever complain about to the LTA.
(Just joking.)

Two boxes were created: one of five players and one of six.
Round-robin format.
Best of three sets, first to seven points.
At 6–6: win by two.

At the time of writing, results aren’t online yet, so what follows is largely based on memory and emotional flashbacks.

Match 1: Austin and Existential Crisis

First match: Austin.

Something went wrong.
There was a discussion at the net.
There was an umpire.
There were tears.

Once focus was lost, Austin closed it out efficiently:
2–7, 2–7.

Post-match explanation involved incorrect scoring, perceived injustice, and the universe being unfair.

At this point, our son asked when mummy’s break at work was.
I explained—calmly—that this was not happening, acknowledged that it was tough, and made it clear that crying would not continue.

I also explained that if I saw more tears, I would pull him out of the tournament.

Different parenting style.
Previously documented.

Match 2: Zachary and Cardiovascular Risk

Next match: Zachary Meehan.

This was one of the longest matches of the day and nearly caused simultaneous heart attacks in both Zachary’s dad and myself.

First set: 1–7.
Second set: trailing 4–5, Zachary hit a net roller… which landed on his side.
5–5.

Momentum shifted.
Our son took the next two points, forcing a decider.

Final set: full distance.
10–8 to our son.

A genuinely excellent match.

Matches 3 and 4: Businesslike

Against Benjamin Newbound (Frome):
7–0, 7–0.

Against Finn Butterworth (Wells):
7–2, 7–2, wrapped up in about ten minutes.

Numbers, Medals and Dragons

Zachary later beat Austin, leaving Austin, Zachary and our son tied at the top of the group.
Due to head-to-head results, the group finished:

Austin
Zachary
Our son

Due to time constraints, only the final was played, which turned into a family affair: Austin vs Monty Carroll.

The top two received medals.
Everyone received a certificate.
And a group photo followed, with the Somerset Dragon proudly taking centre stage.

Final Thoughts

New year.
Clean slate.
Points reset.
Emotions unchanged.

Junior tennis is back—and with it the wins, the losses, the lessons, and the quiet parental heart palpitations.

Same time in 2 weekends in Bath – possibly.