While I was hungover and unreachable on the couch, my girlfriend would commandeer the TV and play episodes of Dr Phil. Even in the haze I clued onto her tactics of trying to get me all better and shit, and cursed and damned the program. I’d kick up a stink about how the show exploited peoples’ tragedy and trauma for money and ratings. But really, I was just as infuriated at being forced to listen to the TV doctor probing participants about matters I’d been trying so hard to deny within myself.
But it also got me wondering: why hadn’t some studio head come up with the idea of getting a Dr Phil like character to hold interventions for tennis outfits? There was clearly enough material and dysfunction there to capture the interest of a daytime audience and as much as I despised Dr Phil, I came to see that a lot of these cluster fuck type situations required an intermediary to intervene otherwise rock bottom was the inevitable destination.
Ironically, I was part of one these dysfunctional tennis teams at the time where the player was going through the motions, and every one of the support staff was in the wrong role. The fitness trainer was trying to be the manager, the parent was trying to be the coach, and there was a travelling comedian who was trying to be the best friend and give life advice on the side. It was a ‘kitchen nightmare’ in need of a Gordon Ramsay overhaul with some Dr Phil on the side, and not because there were too many cooks in the kitchen, but rather because there was none. Only a plethora of freeloaders dining at the tennis player buffet.
The team racked their brains for solutions to the dilemma and came back with the usual recycled garbage ideas, just packaged as different concepts. Tired of going down memory lane, I hurled a shot from the halfway line, suggesting we reach out to Dr Phil and see if he would hold an exclusive sporting episode for our team on the show. (Kidding). But I did take a leaf out of Dr Phil’s book, proposing we pay a third party who our player held in high regard to stage a sporting intervention. Imitation after all is the sincerest form of stealing and I felt like the slick talking Texan was seriously onto something. Of course, my solution was seen as ridiculous, and I was looked at like a lunatic for even mentioning such a thing.
But why is that such a crazy idea? Is it possible that I’m the only sane human being in the tennis sphere and the rest of em’ are stark mad? That’s a bold thought to even ponder, considering I’m also thinking of pitching a sporting reality TV show where I call participants ‘Idiot sandwiches’ and grow a mean looking 70’s porno moustache just like my Oprah certified Frenemy Dr Phil. But in all seriousness… If you are in the tennis world, just look around you. Is there not an endless supply of shambolic configurations without the demand for a service which caters to this issue?
Coaches have become enablers of a typical type of tennis absurdity which has played out within the sport for decades. Since they profit from having a clientele base of tennis crazies, they perpetuate the problem by avoiding real issues and become experts in muddying the waters with irrelevant advice. This protects their financial interests and further hides the inner drama of the team’s dysfunction. So, it’s a win/win situation, except for the player who ultimately loses, as they generally wind up shattered and shamed when the whole thing falls to shit.
Tennis…. Your gonna love it!
My book SMASHED: Tennis prodigies, parents and parasites is out January 2025. You can preorder it here now.
