Alright, so today I decided to actually try and figure out this “B. Mott tennis” stuff I’d heard some old guys mumbling about down at the club. Sounded like some kind of forgotten magic, you know? Or maybe just a load of baloney. Figured, what the heck, got a couple of hours free.
Getting Started (or Stumbling)
So I got to the court, can of slightly flat balls, the usual. The core idea of this B. Mott thing, as far as I could piece together, was this super unconventional, almost lazy-looking way of hitting. Minimal backswing, weird grip changes. Supposedly it was all about “timing” and “deception.” Yeah, right.
First few attempts? A total mess. Balls flying everywhere. One nearly took out a pigeon. My wrist felt all wrong trying to do this flicky thing they said Mott used for his forehand. It’s like trying to write with your other hand, but worse, because at least with writing, the paper doesn’t fly into the next county.
The “Mott Method” Breakdown
I tried to focus on what I thought were the key bits:
- That weird, abbreviated take-back on the forehand.
- A serve that was less about power and more about some kind of bizarre spin that was supposed to die on the bounce.
- And the footwork, oh man, the footwork. It was like he was trying to dance a waltz and play tennis at the same time.
I spent a good hour just trying to get that forehand to land in. Most of the time, it felt like I was just patting the ball. No oomph. No satisfaction. You know that feeling when you connect sweet and clean? Yeah, none of that. Just this awkward, jerky motion. My shoulder started to ache, probably from trying to force something that just didn’t feel natural.
It reminded me a bit of this one job I had ages ago. They brought in this “efficiency expert.” Guy had all these charts and new “synergies” we were supposed to implement. Total garbage. We all knew it. Spent weeks trying to make his system work, productivity went down the toilet, and then he was gone, off to inflict his genius on some other poor suckers. This Mott stuff felt a bit like that – a solution looking for a problem.
Any Breakthroughs? Well…
After a while, I did hit a couple of forehands that felt… different. Not good, exactly, but they had this weird, skidding action. My opponent (if I had one) might have been surprised. Maybe. Or they’d just think I was having a bad day. The serve? Forget it. I think I’m more likely to serve underhand like a beginner than master whatever that Mott serve was supposed to be.
Honestly, the whole thing felt counter-intuitive. Tennis, for me, has always been about solid mechanics, feeling the power transfer from your legs up. This B. Mott approach seemed to throw all that out the window. It was all flicks and weird angles. Maybe Mott was a contortionist in a past life.
I remember my first coach, old Mr. Henderson. He was all about the fundamentals. “Get your feet right, watch the ball, follow through!” Simple. Effective. He wouldn’t have stood for this Mott nonsense for a second. He’d have just shaken his head, told me to stop messing about and hit a proper tennis ball. Sometimes I miss that straightforward advice. Life felt simpler then, before everyone had a “method” or a “hack” for everything.
So, What’s the Verdict on B. Mott Tennis?
Am I going to incorporate the “B. Mott” into my regular game? Not a chance. Maybe if I was desperate, or incredibly bored. But for now, I think I’ll stick to what I know, what actually works for me. It was an experiment, I guess. A frustrating one. I packed up my stuff, feeling more tired than after a proper three-setter, mostly from the mental gymnastics of trying to make sense of it all.
Perhaps B. Mott was a genius, and I’m just too stuck in my ways. Or maybe, just maybe, some things are “forgotten” for a good reason. I’m leaning towards the latter. Anyway, got a good story out of it, I suppose. Next time, I’m just gonna hit some normal forehands. Lots of them.
