Today on Court Untold, we introduce Alex Chang, a tennis player at UC Berkeley. His story is one that really makes you stop and reflect on what tennis truly means to anyone who plays this sport.
From the start, Alex’s competitiveness has been a defining trait—something every top player needs to succeed. But his journey hasn’t been easy. He faced a major injury that made him question whether he could ever reach the highest level of the game.
Alex also offers a unique perspective on the difference between junior tennis and playing at the collegiate level, sharing what it means to him and how the experience has shaped his growth.
Throughout our conversation, Alex reflects on the lessons tennis has taught him—lessons that anyone who’s ever competed in this challenging sport can relate to.
I hope you enjoy this interview as much as I did conducting it.
You're a senior, right? Bernie and Carlo have told me how different it is to transition from junior tennis to college tennis. Do you feel there's a big difference?
Yes, absolutely. Growing up, I always traveled alone with my dad. It was great, but at the same time, it could get a little monotonous—just the two of us going to random places. Of course, I’d see friends at tournaments, but since I never trained at an academy, my tennis journey was pretty individualized. I just trained at my club, which had its advantages and disadvantages. On one hand, I got a lot of personal attention. But on the other hand, I missed out on the camaraderie and daily competition that comes with training in a team environment.
I mainly played the USTA circuit rather than ITFs, so I was familiar with my competition and saw the same faces at every tournament. But when I transitioned to college tennis, it felt like stepping into a whole new world. Suddenly, I was competing against international players, some of whom were significantly older than me. I came into college at 17, and I could be playing against guys as old as 25. That’s a huge jump—not just in experience but also in physicality. In college, you’re facing players who are fully developed, who can hit the ball with incredible power. It forced me to level up physically and become much stronger.
College tennis is also more structured. Players are more disciplined and well-coached, and different teams have distinct playing philosophies. For example, our coach emphasizes aggressive play and taking the ball early, while some teams focus on consistency, staying at the baseline, and grinding out points.
Even in the fall, when we play individual tournaments, there’s still a strong sense of team identity. You’re not just competing for yourself—you’re representing your school. And when the spring season starts, the atmosphere is completely different. Dual matches are electric—six courts going at once, energy everywhere, fist pumps, deuce points creating drama—it’s an entirely new level of intensity.
For me, adapting to the team environment was an adjustment. I used to be more reserved on court, but in college, our coach really emphasizes bringing energy. Even if you have to fake it at times, showing that you’re locked in and engaged not only intimidates your opponent but also lifts up your teammates. It’s all about creating a presence and letting the other team know you’re coming for them. That mindset shift was a big part of my development.
Do you think playing for a team pushes you to improve? Bernie, Carlo, and Jonathan mentioned that being part of a team makes you feel accountable and motivated. Do you see it as added pressure or as motivation?
Honestly, it’s both. Our team is really tight-knit—we’re basically like brothers. We spend all our time together, whether it's on the court, hanging out, or even going out. That bond creates a strong sense of responsibility. No one wants to be the weak link or the guy who loses the deciding match. That pressure exists, but it’s also a huge motivator. You see your teammates working hard, and it pushes you to do the same. You don’t want to let them down.
In junior tennis, it’s just you. If you win, great. If you lose, it’s on you. But in college, you’re playing for something bigger—your team, your school. That’s a completely different feeling. You have to earn your teammates’ trust by putting in the work and showing them they can count on you in big moments. That’s what makes college tennis so unique.
You mentioned the energy in college tennis, and your coach encourages you to project confidence—even if you have to bluff it at times. I’ve heard from other players that there’s also a lot of external noise—opponents talking, fans heckling, even questionable calls from referees. How do you handle that side of the game?
It definitely takes some getting used to. College tennis is intense, and the crowd can be brutal. Some teams, including ours, are known for being vocal and bringing a lot of energy, which can rattle opponents. But at the same time, you have to be prepared for the other team to do the same to you.
There’s also a lot of gamesmanship—players trying to get in your head, teams trying to pick up on signals in doubles, and, unfortunately, some blatant cheating. Some coaches even encourage their players to push the limits in any way possible to win. But personally, I love that atmosphere. It fires me up and makes me even more competitive. The key is staying focused and not letting outside distractions get to you. The more matches you play, the better you get at handling those situations.
Your teammates seem really confident about this season. They genuinely believe the team is poised for a strong year. What are your thoughts on that?
I completely agree. Over the past three years, we’ve had good teams, but for one reason or another, we couldn’t quite put it all together—whether it was injuries or just not peaking at the right time. But this year feels different. We have a strong group of seniors with experience, and our younger guys, like Johnny and Bernie, are pushing hard and raising the level.
More importantly, this is the closest group we’ve had. In college tennis, team chemistry can make or break a season. If there’s a player who’s bringing negative energy, it can spread quickly and hurt the team. But this year, we don’t have that issue at all. Everyone is on the same page, working toward the same goal.
We also had a great fall season, with the most players we’ve ever had qualifying for the NCAA singles and doubles championships. That’s a big indicator of where we stand. If we keep this momentum going, we have a real shot at making some noise this year. I’m excited—really excited.
So, Carlo mentioned that you and he are acting as captains for the team. What responsibilities do you feel come with this role?
For me, it doesn’t really feel like I’m above anyone else. Being a captain does come with some responsibilities, but I’m lucky that our team is full of mature players who know what they need to do. No one is stepping out of line, and if they do, we’re all comfortable enough to call each other out in a constructive way. That makes my job much easier—I don’t have to be on someone about warming up properly or staying disciplined.
Most of our responsibilities involve having closer communication with the coaches. We act as a bridge between them and the team, relaying messages and addressing concerns that players might not want to bring up directly. But at the end of the day, I honestly feel like everyone on our team embodies what it means to be a captain. We’re all professional, goal-oriented, and focused on success. That makes my role pretty straightforward.
Shifting to your college choice—why did you choose UC Berkeley and this tennis program?
I actually grew up in Berkeley, so it’s home for me. My family lives just 15 minutes away, which is great because I get to see them often, and they can come to my matches. My younger brother goes to Berkeley too, so that’s another bonus.
Before our current head coach, Chris, took over, I knew Peter Wright, who was the head coach for nearly 30 years. He was a member at my tennis club, so I got to know him well. His son, Mikey—who’s actually on my team now and my doubles partner—was my best friend in high school. That connection played a big role in my decision.
Funny enough, I actually grew up as a Stanford fan and used to root against Cal in football games. But over time, I really grew to appreciate what Berkeley was building. The academics here are incredible and open up so many opportunities beyond sports. College is about more than just athletics—it’s about discovering your interests, meeting new people, and broadening your perspective. In tennis, especially at the higher levels, you see the same people week in and week out. Being at Berkeley, surrounded by incredibly smart and diverse individuals, has been really eye-opening.
Let’s go back to the very beginning—when and why did you start playing tennis?
I started playing around the age of seven. I was really into other sports, especially basketball, and I played a little soccer too. But my grandparents on my dad’s side are huge tennis fans, and my dad plays a lot, so that naturally pulled me toward the sport.
One thing I didn’t like about basketball was that I was on a team with so many players, and I didn’t always get a chance to play. That really frustrated me. In tennis, it’s just you on the court. Win or lose, it’s all on you—no one else is taking the last shot for you or making decisions that affect the outcome. I loved that sense of control and responsibility.
Yeah, I completely relate. I had the same thought process when I was younger. I didn’t like being subbed out in team sports, and I didn’t like when a loss wasn’t entirely my fault. In tennis, it’s all on you.
Exactly. It’s stressful at times, but it’s also really rewarding.
For sure. Even outside of tennis, I’ve noticed that I prefer working alone. Maybe it’s a bad habit, but even when I started my brand, I did it alone because finding the right partner can be tough.
That makes sense. In tennis, you learn so many life lessons—how to be accountable, how to push yourself, and how to carve your own path.
Exactly. That’s one of the best things about tennis—it teaches you to take responsibility and create your own journey. So, when did you start competing?
I probably started around seven or eight. I think my first tournament was when I was eight. From there, I just kept training and improving. My dad was my primary coach, and while I practiced at my club, I don’t really remember taking formal lessons until I was around nine or ten. That was the real beginning for me.
Were you always competitive, or did you start out just playing for fun?
No, I was always competitive. I progressed pretty quickly, and I loved the competitive side of tennis. Once I started winning, I realized I hated just playing socially—what we call "social tennis"—where there’s no real purpose beyond just being on the court. That never appealed to me. I wanted to compete and win, and that drive kept me going.
Got it. Now, looking at your junior career, I checked your ITF record—something I do with everyone for context—and I noticed you only played one ITF tournament. Why was that?
Yeah, I only played one. In the U.S., the system is a little different. The country is so big, and the level of competition in junior tennis is already high. Unless you're one of the absolute top juniors, there’s not much reason to travel internationally.
For me, school was also a big priority. I never did homeschooling—I went to regular school throughout elementary, middle, and most of high school. ITF tournaments require a lot of travel, and if you want to play major ones like the Orange Bowl or Eddie Herr, you’re looking at missing weeks of school. That wasn’t an option for me.
Besides, I always had strong competition in the U.S. I did well in my age group, but I wasn’t dominating every national tournament. There were always steps I knew I could take to improve without needing to travel internationally.
On top of that, I didn’t have a full-time coach traveling with me—it was mostly just me and my dad. My mom was always supportive, but I have two younger brothers, so my parents couldn’t just leave everything to take me to Europe for a month. And, of course, it’s expensive. Traveling for ITF tournaments adds up quickly.
That makes a lot of sense. Honestly, I think that’s a smart approach. The U.S. is huge, and the competition level is already high.
Exactly.
It’s similar in Spain. It’s actually rare to see players traveling for ITF events unless they’re receiving wild cards into the biggest tournaments. If you're not a top-ranked junior, there's really no need to play ITFs. Usually, only the top three players in Spain would go abroad.
Yeah, the depth of competition is so strong that there’s no real need to travel.
Right, and then there’s the cost. Traveling is expensive, and it takes time away from school. In your case, since you stayed in school full-time, that’s pretty common as well.
Yeah, exactly. And honestly, it didn’t stop me from getting into a great school and playing for one of the best programs in the country.
Exactly!
I’m proud of the path I took. One thing that’s tough in the U.S. is the lack of financial support from the tennis federation. The USTA hardly provides any funding for junior players. Maybe they’ll pick a handful of kids they think will be superstars, but beyond that, they don’t help much with travel.
I remember some of my friends who played Les Petits had to cover their own expenses for the trip, which is crazy. The USTA makes so much money from the US Open and other events, yet they don’t fund their top juniors properly.
In contrast, other federations do a much better job supporting their players. Carlo was telling me that the Danish Tennis Federation has everything set up for him even after he graduates. It’s a complete system. That kind of support is something the U.S. lacks.
That’s crazy to think about. I mean, the USTA is such a massive organization with huge revenue. In Spain, I’m not entirely sure about the exact numbers, but I know their sponsorships aren’t particularly big either. However, they do offer more support in certain ways, especially with wildcards.
Yeah, yeah.
I think they really help players who are trying to make the jump to the next level.
Yeah.
It’s strange not to see that kind of support in the U.S.
Exactly. I mean, we have the US Open and other major ATP events, but below that level, there’s not much structured support.
I see. Now, I want to ask you about high-pressure moments in matches. Let’s say you’re in a tight situation, like a tiebreak or a deciding set. How do you handle pressure in those moments to give yourself the best chance to win?
I think everyone gets nervous—it’s a natural human response. Some players handle it better than others, but it’s always there.
When I was younger, I would get really nervous in those moments. My instinct was just to put the ball in play and hope my opponent made a mistake. But as you progress in the game, that doesn’t work anymore. Players take their chances, and you have to be ready to do the same.
At higher levels, matches often come down to just a few key points. The margins are so small. Here at Cal, we have a great mental performance coach who helps us develop strategies to manage nerves. It’s not about ignoring the pressure but channeling your energy in a way that helps your performance.
Everyone can play well in practice when there’s nothing on the line, but when you’re in a deciding match—say, 3-all in a college dual match—many players crumble under the pressure. That’s why having mental strategies is so important. You have to individualize what works for you so that in those crucial moments, you have something to rely on to keep a clear mind and perform at your best.
That makes sense. And what about confidence? Tennis is such a confidence-dependent sport. Have you ever gone through a rough patch—maybe losing a few first rounds in a row—and if so, how did it affect you? How did you get through it?
Yeah, losing streaks definitely affect every player. When you keep losing week after week, it’s brutal. You start questioning yourself—whether you're on the pro tour, in juniors, or in college. You wonder, “Can I actually do this?”
Sometimes, the worst part is when you feel like you’re playing well but still losing. That’s when the doubts really creep in.
For me, the key is focusing on the things I can control—sleep, nutrition, training, and being intentional about what I’m working on in practice. If you consistently do the right things, progress will come.
I don’t think anyone truly gets worse if they’re training smart and staying disciplined. It’s about zooming out, recognizing areas for improvement, and trusting that if you keep pushing forward, you’ll eventually break through.
That’s a great mindset. Now, I also wanted to ask—since you didn’t do homeschooling, which is a common path for many young players, did you ever feel like that put you at a disadvantage?
A lot of my friends trained at the USTA National Campus in Orlando, spending weeks at a time there. For me, that was never appealing, and my mom never let me do homeschooling. She was firm about keeping me in regular school.
My dad considered it at one point, but ultimately, they decided against it. When I was younger, I wasn’t training double sessions every day or anything. I’d go to school, then practice in the afternoon. Looking back, I probably could’ve structured my training better and spent more hours on court.
Balancing school and tennis was definitely tricky. Even in college, your course of study impacts how much time you have for training. If you're on a pre-med track with labs and science courses, it’s much harder to maintain a solid training schedule.
But I never really felt like I was falling behind. Some players go all-in on tennis, while others—like me—prioritized school more. There’s no single right path.
How was your schedule in high school?
My freshman year, I went to a regular public high school in Berkeley. I’d wake up, go to school from around 8:30 to 3:30, then train for two hours before going home to eat, do homework, and sleep. That was my routine.
I was playing a lot of national tournaments at the time, so I missed a lot of school. Public schools in the U.S. don’t really accommodate that well since their funding is based on attendance. My school wasn’t happy about how much I was traveling, and they actually told me I should consider a different program.
So, starting my sophomore year, I switched to an Independent Studies program. It was a hybrid model—I’d meet with teachers a few times a week and do the rest of my coursework remotely. That made traveling for tournaments much easier, but I’ll admit, it wasn’t the best for learning. Studying alone in high school isn’t ideal, and a lot of times, I was just getting by.
Then COVID hit during my junior year, which made things even stranger. So yeah, my high school experience was definitely unique.
Having this kind of lifestyle, where you travel a lot, must be challenging. After finishing school, you went straight into training. How did you balance your social life with your tennis career?
It was tough. Honestly, I didn’t really have much of a social life in high school, and I didn’t enjoy high school at all.
When I joined the program, I didn’t relate much to the other kids there, so I ended up doing my own thing. I’ve always been someone who enjoys spending time alone, so I didn’t mind it too much. But I never went to high school parties or had a big group of friends outside of tennis.
Even if I had those friends, I wouldn’t have had time for them. My schedule was packed between school and tennis, so balancing both was nearly impossible.
Well, it definitely paid off. Now you're at UC Berkeley, and you’ve built a strong network.
Yeah, exactly. That’s one of the reasons I love college tennis—you immediately find a group of guys who understand you and the challenges of being a competitive junior player.
It’s great to have teammates who share the same experiences. Tennis is an individual sport, and it comes with so many unique challenges. Having people around who truly get it makes a huge difference. In a way, it’s similar to what your brand, Valldoreix, is about—telling the story of what it’s really like to be a tennis player.
That’s something I talked about with Carl. We agreed that while you can have friends outside of tennis, the people you truly connect with are the ones who play.
Even if you try to explain your experiences to non-tennis friends, they won’t fully understand. They have a different outlook on life, and no matter how much you explain, they won’t really get it.
Yeah, exactly.
It’s great to have people who understand how hard this journey is and share the same perspective. It’s not something you have to put into words—you just feel that connection. You can talk about life and many other things, but there’s an unspoken understanding that makes it different.
For example, I moved from Spain to Panama when I was 15, and I lost touch with my school friends. But the friends I made through tennis? I still talk to them. Even if years go by, when we see each other, it’s like nothing has changed.
Yeah, that’s something special about tennis friendships.
Exactly. It’s something I’m really grateful for. Now, I want to shift the conversation to the emotional side of tennis.
Tennis players live a very different lifestyle compared to people who haven’t played sports at a high level. How do you think tennis has shaped you as a person and influenced your outlook on life?
Tremendously. Tennis challenges you in ways few other things do. It exposes your fears, pushes you to your limits, and teaches you how to handle both victory and defeat.
My dad used to say that in a tight tennis match, a player’s true character comes out. That stuck with me because it’s true—tennis reveals who you really are. It’s just you out there, competing one-on-one, almost like a battle. You learn so much about yourself in those moments.
Because of that, tennis has helped me in other areas of life. It’s made me more adaptable, more resilient. When I face obstacles, I can relate them back to experiences on the court. Tennis is both the most exciting and most stressful thing I do, and nothing else challenges me mentally in the same way.
It’s given me a different perspective on life, helping me step back and see challenges with more clarity.
That makes a lot of sense. Was there ever a time when you felt close to giving up? Not necessarily quitting, but a moment when you were scared you wouldn’t reach the level you always aimed for—whether that was getting into a top school or turning pro?
Yeah, there were two major moments like that.
The first was when I was 12. I almost quit tennis to play baseball. My younger brothers also played tennis, but they struggled with the expectations from my dad and eventually quit. One of them started playing baseball, and I saw how much fun he was having with his teammates.
At that time, I was feeling a bit burnt out, and tennis felt lonely. Unlike baseball, there was no team, no group of friends traveling together. I seriously considered switching sports. But then I played a big national tournament and ended up winning it. That win saved me—I realized how much I loved competing and decided to stick with tennis.
The second time was in college, during my freshman year. COVID hit, and I suffered a serious hip injury that kept me out for a year and a half. Some days, I could barely walk around my house.
When I finally came back, I felt so far behind my teammates. They had been training and improving, while I had been sidelined for so long. It was frustrating—I questioned whether I had enough time to catch up, whether I could still compete at a high level.
Even though I was already at UC Berkeley, I didn’t want to just be on the team—I wanted to contribute, to earn my spot in the lineup. That period was full of doubt, but I kept pushing through it. Looking back, it was one of the toughest challenges I’ve faced, but it also made me stronger.
That second time you mentioned, in college—how did you push through it? What kept you motivated while you were trying to get back to your level?
Honestly, the biggest motivator was watching my teammates compete. I enjoyed it, but at the same time, I was jealous. I wanted to be out there. I missed the competition—I missed putting everything on the line.
And seeing them play for something bigger than themselves was huge. I had never experienced that before. In college tennis, you're playing for a team, for the guys you spend every single day with. That looked like so much fun, and it pushed me to keep going, to push past limits I didn’t even know I had.
How are you feeling on the court right now?
Well, in the fall, I played really well. I had some great wins. But I had this lingering wrist issue the entire time—I just played through it. During winter break, I finally decided to rest it, so I didn’t hit backhands for about three weeks.
I was still training, but it was different—just forehands and serves, no matches, no tournaments. And I’m the kind of player who needs to compete regularly. I rely on certain rituals and a specific mental framework to stay clear-headed on court. If I don’t compete often, I can get stuck in my own head and not play at the level I know I can.
This season has been okay—not bad, but not what I was hoping for. Right now, I feel like I’m in one of those challenging stretches where you just have to keep your head down, trust the process, and do the right things. Hopefully, this weekend, I can put together a strong performance.
That said, I’m actually enjoying this phase because it’s testing me. For most of 2024, I felt like my level was skyrocketing. Now, I’m facing another challenge, and I see it as an opportunity to grow even more.
Yeah, Bernie actually told me something similar in his interview—there’s no secret formula. You just keep working, keep giving yourself more opportunities. That’s the only way forward.
Yeah, exactly. And with Bernie, I think coming in, he didn’t fully understand the level of college tennis. As a top junior, you’re used to being the best. But in college, no one cares about your junior results.
I think it was a reality check for him. He had to adjust to not being the top guy right away. But I’ve seen him grow a lot. He’s insanely talented—his strokes are incredible—but now he’s learning the little things that matter at this level.
Watching how other players approach their daily routines—how they train, eat, stretch—has helped him become more professional. You can tell he’s been putting in the work, and it’s great to see his progress.
Yeah, I hope he keeps going.
For sure.
He’s super motivated.
Yeah, definitely.
Alright, last big question before we get into some fun ones. If you could sit down and talk to your younger self—whether it’s when you first started tennis or when you were 14, 15, 16—what advice would you give him?
I’d tell him to truly believe in his abilities.
Growing up, I always had people telling me, “Alex, you’re so talented. You can make it to the top.” But deep down, I don’t think I ever fully believed it myself. And that’s everything.
Tennis is a sport where no one else can do it for you. If you don’t believe in yourself, it shows. Looking back, I wish I had pushed myself harder, approached certain situations differently, and really trusted that I could make it.
And honestly, I still struggle with this today. You see all these guys giving everything they have, and some of them still don’t make it—don’t crack the top 100, don’t make a living from the sport. That fear of failure can hold you back.
I think a lot of juniors, including me back then, subconsciously avoid going all in. It’s like a defense mechanism—if you don’t try 100%, then you can always say, “Well, I didn’t really fail, I just didn’t give it my all.” But that’s not how growth happens.
So yeah, I’d tell my younger self: Believe. Go all in. Accept that failure is part of it. Because at the end of the day, the only regret is not giving it everything.
That’s so important. It might sound cliché to some, but once you really understand what it means, it changes everything—your mindset, your tennis, your life.
Exactly. It’s a complete shift in perspective.
Alright, let’s wrap up with two quick fun questions. Would you rather win a Grand Slam or be world number one?
A Grand Slam, for sure.
Why?
I don’t want to be, you know… not to call out Zverev, but I don’t want to be the guy who made every Grand Slam final but never won one.
Winning a Slam cements your place in history. People remember Slam champions way more than they remember who was ranked number one. Djokovic, for example—he barely plays tournaments now because he already proved himself.
But if you win Wimbledon or the US Open, your name is in the record books forever.
Totally. I always think about Stan Wawrinka—he wasn’t world number one, but when you think of him, you remember him as an absolute beast.
Exactly. Or even Del Potro—he only won one Slam, but people still talk about his monster forehand. That’s the impact of winning a major.
You know, winning a Grand Slam during that time period was incredibly tough.
Yeah, especially if you're not one of the top players like Djokovic. It's crazy.
Definitely. Last question, who was your idol growing up?
It was always Rafa. I’m left-handed, so I’ve always felt a connection to him. I just love watching him compete. His intensity, his power—it’s amazing. Reading his book gave me a deeper understanding of his struggles. He's not a superhero, you know? After losing his first Wimbledon final to Federer, he doubted everything. He even wondered if he could ever win again. That human side of him makes his achievements even more remarkable. On the court, he's a machine, but off the court, he’s just like any of us.
I totally get that. I actually read his book when I was really young. I think it was the first book I ever read by myself. I’m not a big reader, but after seeing Rafa, I had to read it. It really made me realize how human he is—he has doubts just like everyone else. What makes him incredible is how he overcomes them. He’s a true beast on the court. For me, he represents the values of tennis: overcoming adversity.
Exactly. Rafa might not have the elegance of Federer, but his hard work is undeniable. It’s not just about talent—he brings everything to the table. He always says that the winner is the one who’s willing to suffer more, to push harder. That mindset is what sets him apart.
That’s the key to improvement—there’s no shortcut. Everyone has to push through it.
Yeah, that’s so true.
Alright, Alex, that’s all for me.
That was awesome. It made me think a lot about myself—things I hadn’t thought about in a while.
That’s the idea, actually. Reflecting on things, even if they’re difficult, is important. It’s also great for people to hear, especially tennis fans, because it lets them understand the struggles players face behind the scenes.
Exactly. Many players, or those trying to compete, will relate to this. I think it’s great that we’re showing this side of tennis.
I’m hoping it reaches a lot of people. I’ll do my best to make sure it does.
By the way, Bernie mentioned you were a really good player. Do you still play, or are you more focused on this?
Right now, I’m focused on this, but I’m coaching a young player. As for me, when I was younger, I was really good in Spain. I was ranked number one in Madrid and in the top 10 in Spain by the time I was 14. But then I moved to Panama, and the competition here just wasn’t the same. I was still number one in Panama, but it didn’t feel like it had the same weight.
Yeah, I understand.
My parents were really focused on education, so I balanced tennis with my studies. I spent high school in Panama, and whenever I went back to Spain, I noticed a shift. I kept losing to players I used to beat. It was tough, and I didn’t play many ITFs except the ones in Panama. By the time I applied to college, my tennis career wasn’t strong enough to help my application, so I focused on education instead.
Oh, you went to college in the U.S.?
Yeah, I studied at Georgetown.
Wow, that’s impressive!
Thanks! I was a decent student. I went down the education path, which was hard because tennis had always been a big part of my life. After the pandemic, I started playing again. I fell out of love with tennis for a while because I wasn’t winning matches. It was tough to deal with knowing I had once been at such a high level, but now I wasn’t able to compete.
It must have been hard to come to terms with that.
Yeah, I didn’t have the humility to acknowledge that my level had dropped, and I didn’t push myself hard enough to get it back.
It’s understandable, though. It’s hard to admit that you have to work your way back.
Exactly. But now I’m still playing for fun, just not competitively.
That’s great. Thanks for sharing your story.
Of course! That’s the story in a nutshell.
Very cool. Thanks again!
Anytime!