Tournament Day

The morning of tournament day was always a surreal feeling. I honestly felt like I was in a movie where all eyes were on me and where people were in on my thoughts watching me prepare myself for the fight on the courts. Waking up on tournament day, I would sit in bed for a good ten minutes and mentally begin to prepare myself for what’s to come. I’d watch a few tennis matches and then get myself out of bed. Tennis tournaments usually took place earlier in the day so if you won your first round, you would have to stay and wait for the next one. I would eat some breakfast and begin to get ready. It would go in this order: brush my teeth, get my hair up in a ponytail with a braid, wash my face, jump around a little bit, change into my outfit, put my sneakers on, get my tennis bag, look myself in the mirror and tell myself “let’s go” , grab a banana, and then finally walk out the door. My dad would usually give me a little pep talk at this time. He’d refresh my memory on the proper technique, remind me to call the outs, make sure that I call the line judge if the other girl was cheating, etc. Once in the car, I would immediately put my headphones in and begin to play my tennis playlist. This would get me fired up, get my head in the game, and motivate me to fight for that win. Pulling up into the parking lot of where the tournament took place, I’d take out my headphones and walk in. I’d walk straight to the tournament director and gave in my name. Next, I would go to the bathroom, wash my face again, jump around and come back out. There I sat waiting. I was watching other games and listening to what my dad had to say. Sooner or later, I heard my name get called out. “Emma Voykhanskaya and ....” whoever the opponent was. We would go up and listen to the rules. “Warm up is 5 min, you are on court number two, and have fun”. My opponent and I would begin to walk onto our court. At that point, I already had my head in the game. We would begin to warm up and shortly after, we’d begin. I can’t begin to explain the feeling of competing. All eyes behind the glass wall are on you and your match. However, you can’t let that get to your head. The only thing I saw was the court and my opponent. Fighting for every point, screaming “ LETS GO” or “ COME ON” after a well deserved point was one of the absolute best feelings. I would fight for every single point. If my poor opponent had called an “out“ on my ball that was definitely in, I would call in the line judge to make sure she wasn’t cheating. When we would have our breaks while switching sides, I would take a bite out of my banana and drink some water, jump around and then walk to the other side ready to play. Matches usually took a good two hours. I remember one match of mine was the last one standing. The club was already closing, the only people there was my opponent, me, her family, my family, and the tournament director. It was 11:56 pm and we were fighting for so long. I remember taking that win. I remember vividly walking out into the lobby so happy. It was the best feeling to know that my hard work paid off and that I was able to come back tomorrow and fight for the next round. Tournament day was always different from a regular day. It felt unreal.