CHAPTER 21 #3
“I’m going, I’m going.” He leans in to kiss me on the cheek. “Good luck, mia dolce.”
I watch him go with regret. Aurelio always makes me feel more comfortable. I shake off the nerves, fetching my racket and introducing myself to the new practice player that Barbara brought. His name is Tyrese, and he’s a fresh graduate from the University of Texas.
Tyrese and I run through a typical two-hour practice.
We warm up and do basic conditioning. We run sprint drills.
We practice serving, returning, net play.
We scrimmage and simulate various scenarios that could happen in a competitive match.
Tyrese reminds me of Rafe, eager to please and energetic, though he focuses on me more than Rafe ever did.
Now Rafe must practice with Charles Allard and be distracted by both of his heroes.
Barbara doesn’t say a word through it all.
She just stands on the sideline next to her brother, watching us with her arms crossed.
The longer she stays silent, the more mistakes I make, wondering what she’s thinking.
Does she agree with Beck? Does she see a champion in me or someone who can’t take the pressure?
When I hit my third serve into the net, Barbara finally speaks. “I think that’s enough for today,” she calls, beckoning us over.
Tyrese heads to his water, pouring some on his face. I walk over to Barbara like it’s a death march. Vince offers me a slight smile, but I can’t read his face. Did I pass his sister’s test? Did she say anything to him?
Barbara opens her mouth to say something, but I beat her to it. “Did I do something wrong?” I blurt out.
Barbara rears back, surprised. “Something wrong?” she asks, brow crinkled. “What do you mean?”
“I’m sorry about my serve,” I say, rubbing my wrist. “I knew you weren’t happy with my play, and I let it distract me.”
She walks to my side, voice low. Vince takes the hint and goes to talk to Tyrese. Barbara’s warm eyes search my face. “Amy, why are you sure I was unhappy?”
I feel stupid all the sudden, insecure and young. “You were so quiet,” I say. “You didn’t give me any direction.”
Understanding floods Barbara’s face. “And your father?” she prods. “He gave you instructions throughout practice?”
My face heats. “That’s normal,” I defend him. “Being silent isn’t.”
Barbara looks at me in amusement. “This is the first time I’ve seen you play in person, Amy. I was just taking you in, noting your strengths and weaknesses. I’m sure I’ll speak more in the future.”
Embarrassment floods through me. “I’m sorry,” I hurry to say. “I didn’t mean to complain—”
Barbara interrupts me, firm. “It’s fine, Amy.
This early on in the coaching process we’re still learning how to communicate with each other.
” She hesitates for a moment, looking at me.
“But the truth is, I don’t think I’ll ever be anything like your father.
When I coached at Texas, I let my girls lead.
I let them show me what they were capable of.
Then, we came up with a plan together.” She doesn’t say Beck’s name, but I still look away, knowing that he’s haunting our conversation.
“I gave them the tools, the techniques, and the wisdom they needed to succeed, but I didn’t overwhelm them with doing things my way. ”
I can’t help but snort. Barbara looks at me questioningly. “Beck only had his way,” I explain.
“I can imagine,” she says, shaking her head. “Vince told me a few stories.”
I wince. “Then you know that I was pretty plugged into doing things Beck’s way.”
Barbara tilts her head. “What changed, anyway?”
“Well...” I stretch out the first word. “He gave my boyfriend a black eye.” Her eyes widen. “Oh, Vince didn’t tell you that one?”
She shakes her head. “That is a pretty good reason to move on from a coach.”
“It wasn’t the only reason,” I admit. “More like the last straw. I think I’ve always known that Beck’s way wasn’t meant for anyone but himself.
This year is just the first time I’ve been brave enough to admit it.
I’m finally surrounding myself with people who give me the courage to try a different way.
” I tip my chin towards Vince. “Like your brother, like Aurelio, like my friend Fernanda.”
“Fernanda Navarro?” she asks in surprise. “Have you two ever thought about playing doubles? You’d be quite the pair.”
I grin at her. “One step at a time, coach.”
“So,” Barbara summarizes, looking me up and down, “We just need to work together to discover the ‘Amy Way.’”
A surge of warmth goes through me at the way she uses “we.” “I’d be honored to work with you,” I tell her. “Do you know I’d be only the second WTA player inside the top twenty with a woman coach? Fernanda’s the other.”
“I knew I liked her,” Barbara says approvingly. “I’ll definitely reach out to her coach about playing doubles sometime this year.”
Barbara then links her arm with mine, walking me around the court and asking questions about my life. On our second pass, Vince shoots me a questioning look. I flash him a quick thumbs up.
I think I found my new coach.