Alright, let’s talk about this “chidekh tennis” thing. I remember when I first stumbled upon it. Some guy at the local club, you know the type, always chasing the next magic bullet, started yapping about it. Claimed it was this revolutionary way to play, gonna add 20 mph to my serve and make my groundstrokes unreturnable. Yeah, right.
My First Brush with “Chidekh”
So, I decided to dig in. Curiosity, you know? I went online, searched for “chidekh tennis.” What I found was a bunch of really vague articles and a couple of super low-quality videos. Looked like someone filmed them with a potato. The whole thing seemed to revolve around this super exaggerated wrist snap and some kind of weird, almost stationary footwork for power. Supposedly, some obscure coach named Chidekh came up with it decades ago.
I thought, “Okay, what the heck, I’ll give it a shot.” My game was feeling a bit stale anyway. So, I headed to the practice courts. I tried to mimic what I saw in those grainy videos. My first few attempts? Hilarious. Balls went into the fence, over the fence, some nearly hit the people on the next court. It felt completely unnatural.
The Painful Process
I spent a good week trying to get the hang of this chidekh technique. Here’s what my practice looked like:
- Stood there like a statue trying to generate power from just my arm and wrist.
- Felt a twinge in my elbow I’d never felt before. Not a good sign.
- Focused so much on this “chidekh snap” that I forgot basic things, like watching the ball.
- Managed to hit maybe one decent shot for every twenty shanks.
It was frustrating. My regular coach, old Pete, saw me one afternoon. He just watched me for a bit, arms crossed, then walked over. He asked, “What in the blazes are you trying to do, son?” I explained the chidekh thing. He just shook his head and muttered something about “newfangled nonsense” and “sticking to the fundamentals.”
Pete’s a good guy. Reminds me of my first boss, actually. This guy, Mr. Henderson, ran a small hardware store. I worked there one summer. He taught me how to stack paint cans perfectly, how to talk to customers, real basic stuff. But he always said, “Get the basics right, and the rest follows.” If I ever tried some “clever” new way to do things that didn’t work, he’d just give me that same look Pete did. Kind of a “told-you-so” but in a gentle way. That experience always stuck with me.
Giving Up on the Ghost
Anyway, back to chidekh. After about two weeks of this, my arm was sore, my confidence was shot, and my regular game was suffering because I was all mixed up. I was hitting more frames than strings. That “revolutionary” power? Nowhere to be seen. The unreturnable groundstrokes? More like un-get-in-the-court-able.
So, I decided to scrap it. I went back to what Pete taught me. Sound technique, proper footwork, watching the ball. Slowly, my game started coming back. It took a little while to undo the weird habits I’d picked up trying that chidekh method.
My take? This chidekh tennis, or at least my attempt to learn it from sketchy sources, was a complete waste of time. Maybe there’s a genius to it if you have a specific body type or a world-class coach who actually understands it. But for an average club player like me, it was just a recipe for bad habits and a sore arm. Sometimes, chasing these “secret” techniques just distracts you from the hard work of actually improving the fundamentals. I learned that lesson the hard way, again.
