My Honoka Technique Experiment Journey
Man, when I first saw Honoka Kobayashi play, holy cow. Those smooth shots looked like magic tricks, right? Total “top secret” vibes. No cap, I thought it was just hype. But damn, curiosity won. Grabbed my racket last Tuesday afternoon, decided to just start copying what I remembered.
First step? That weirdly relaxed stance she always does. Looked easy-peasy watching videos – like she’s barely trying, yeah? Tried mimicking it, knees kinda soft, shoulders slumped forward a bit. Felt awkward as heck! Like trying to balance on a wobbly stool. Held it anyway near my basement wall, practicing shadow swings. Focused real hard on keeping my arms loose like noodles. After, like, 15 minutes? My shoulder was screaming. Didn’t feel smooth at all.
Then came the swing itself. Honoka’s got this… delayed whip thing going on with her forehand. Looks slow, then BAM. Tried doing it step-by-step:
- Took the racket back slooooow – slower than my grandma walks.
- Paused stupidly long at the top – felt like hanging in mid-air forever.
- Smashed forward super late – my brain yelled “SWING NOW!” but I waited extra beats.
First real try hitting a ball against the wall? Whiffed completely. Airball. Looked like an idiot. Second try? Hit the frame – that awful PONK sound echoed. Third try? Racket flew outta my grip. Nearly took out my mom’s favorite plant. Not a great start.
Kept grinding though. Changed my grip a tiny bit – more “holding a hammer” than “shaking hands.” Stopped trying to murder the ball. Just focused on that stupidly slow takeback and waiting, waiting, WAITING before unleashing. Something clicked around try number 50. Contact felt cleaner, like the ball just stuck to the strings for a nanosecond. And the spin! That crazy topspin curve started happening. Not Honoka-level, but damn, it curved! Actually kicked up wild against the wall. Little victory dance happened right there.
The real mindblower was how little effort it needed once it started working. Like tossing a Frisbee easy instead of swinging a baseball bat hard. Tried it in my club match Thursday night. Dude across the net? Utterly confused. His usual power shots just… died on my side. Some even floated long ’cause the topspin bit him. I wasn’t even tired after three sets. Normally I’d be a sweaty, heaving mess.
The big secret revealed? It ain’t brute force. It’s timing, that lazy backswing, holding the tension until the last second, and letting the racket do the damn work. Sounds simple. Feels weird. Works ridiculously well once your body quits fighting it. Total mindset shift. Still messing it up half the time, mind you. But those moments it clicks? Pure tennis candy.
