In 1985 I was a young sports television producer making less than $20,000 a year. Receiving a call to work the World Championship Tennis Finals in Dallas for $125 per day was a windfall. My role was to be the stage manager, which meant I would spend five evenings in a comfy, sound-proof booth supporting the announcers.

I also had one other important task. Positioning myself on the floor of Reunion Arena as the broadcast began each night, it was my job to prompt the two competitors onto the court during introductions. That made for great television and allowed me to meet the world’s best players. By the fourth night I had gotten really good at cueing them, then racing up to the booth on the mezzanine level to get paid for watching grown men in shorts hit a yellow ball.

Then it happened. The PA announcer boomed, “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the number one player in the world, Ivan Lendl.” Polite applause. Cue in my headset from the producer. Tap Lendl on the shoulder. Lendl walks on the court. Perfect. “Please welcome,” the announcer continued, “four time U.S. Open and three time Wimbledon champion, John McEnroe.” Loud applause. Cue from the producer. Tap McEnroe on the shoulder. McEnroe? John? Where’s McEnroe? Actually, at that moment the producer was yelling, “Where the %$#@ is McEnroe?”

Finally, after about 30 seconds, McEnroe casually strolls out of the tunnel, looks right at me, smiles, and says, “Sorry…pee break.” That was the last thing I ever did for WCT.

More than a Game

This memory came back to me recently as I read “The Inner Game of Tennis,” which is interesting in itself, since I never have played a game of tennis. But that’s alright, because W. Timothy Gallwey’s 1973 bestseller isn’t really about tennis anyway. Its theme is that all of us possess the natural ability to succeed, but our thoughts get in the way of letting it happen.

Do the Lendls, McEnroes, or Roger Federers ever look like they’re thinking on the court? Concentrating? Yes. Trying too hard? No. Pick your player or sport: Tiger Woods? Peyton Manning? LeBron James? Derek Jeter? Great athletes appear effortless in their execution, which is so hard to relate to that sportscasters lean on catchphrases to describe it: “She’s playing out of her mind,” “He’s unconscious out there.”

In the moment of competition, professional athletes allow their performances to unfold…one swing, one shot, one throw at a time. In coach speak, the game “slows down” for them—effortless and thoughtless—as instinct and skill take over.

What about the rest of us, mere amateurs? (If sports aren’t your bag, think about playing cards, board games, or whatever challenge you enjoy.) What’s typically going on inside your head during competition? If you’re like me, and the people Gallwey observed, it probably involves a continual conversation disrupting your focus.