Six Weeks

Northmere’s second remote film session was meant to last an hour. The player kept bringing the clip back to a return she’d missed, then telling me she had seen it. On the recording she had. I could see the instant she recognised the ball and the later instant her feet had accepted the information. They were not the same.

“I’m going to send you the clip without my notes,” I told her. “Watch it with your partner. Ask her where she thought you would move.”

“She’ll say I should have gone left.”

“She might. Ask before you give her the answer.”

It was advice I had needed on a different court. She said she’d try it, and the session ended ten minutes late. I charged for the hour we’d agreed. The coordinator had stayed on the call to ask how it went. She said another group of players would arrive…