Jesse Ferlianto

Past Entries

Entry 1

Entry 2

Entry 3

Entry 4

March 22, 2004

Hello world! Here I am, back again with my attempt to share with you what a typical day is like with the Emory men's tennis team on our annual spring break trip. Hoping to get some quality tennis matches under our belt, we were not headed for the spring break hotspots of Cancun or Miami, but rather the quiet, peaceful city of Wesley Chapel, Florida, Tyson Ramsay's lovely hometown.

On our schedule, we were set to play some tough matches against three formidable NCAA Division II opponents. We definitely had our work cut out for us that week, and although these matches do not count towards any national seedings, we were determined to fight hard simply for pride's sake.

As for housing accomodations, we were very fortunate that Mr. and Mrs. Ramsay offered to put us up in their cozy ancillary home within the exclusive Saddlebrook Resort, a much nicer arrangement than any hotel could ever provide. Our budget also thanks them for their hospitality!

I do not recall much of the seven-hour drive down to Tampa, as I was lucky to have a whole row of seats to myself in the van, and it allowed me to lie out and catch up on much needed sleep. I do recall at one point seeing Alex Jacobs glaring at me from the row in front, envious of my extremely comfortable sleeping position.

Midway through the trip, we stopped at a gas station to fill up our gas tanks and empty our personal tanks. I must tell you, that although I've seen freshman eagerness before (i.e. Lee Friedman), I've never seen anyone as enthusiastic as freshman Yoji Masuoka was about volunteering to pump the gas. That is intiative at its best. Not only did he volunteer to pump gas, but he also volunteered to wash our windshields as well. Way to take one for the team, Choji!

We arrived at Saddlebrook around 5 in the evening and proceeded to get a good workout in before dark. Never mind that half our squad practiced on clay, what was important was that we all worked up a good sweat after remaining immobile for most of the day within strict Ford Econoline confines.

Due to Florida's humid climate, our practice balls fluffed up into the size of grapefruits in no time. "This climate will slow my serve down into the lower 120 mph range!" Junior Mark Odgers complained. "These fluffier balls will give me more time to create more spins and speeds in my strategically planned shots!" claimed Jedimaster Jacobs.

"This humidity makes me sweat profusely, so I'm going to go change into my fourth shirt," said Josh Rubens. "This climate doesn't affect me one bit." said Pat Redmond, in a monotone, almost computerized-robot tone of voice, while his flowing locks of gorgeous, Pantene ProV-treated, curly half-asian hair flowed with the fluctuating breeze.

We finished up our hitting sessions feeling good about our games, confident that we would be able to put up a good fight against our opponents later that week. As dusk set in, we quickly hopped into our van on our way back to the Ramsays, who have graciously prepared for us the first of many delicious dinners during this trip. Caesar salad, roast beef, homemade mashed potatoes and gravy, steamed corn and carrots, and 100 percent fresh squeezed Florida orange juice-- it was a meal to be savored.

That night we settled into our rooms and relaxed to the sounds of Sportscenter highlights from the living room TV, the cranking noise of Tyson's Gamma stringer, the back and forth sounds of Yoji and J.P.'s ping pong rallies followed by the occasional poignant battle cry, and sporadic yells and cheers from those who had their hands on "Yahtzee!" the hand-held pocket game of endless hours of fun. You might think that the game is dumb, but not when you put it into the hands of a genius. And that was exactly the case as high scores were consistently crushed left and right over the course of the week.

That night, I perused the bookshelves in the study room and came across "You Cannot Be Serious," an autobiography by John McEnroe. It intrigued me, and throughout the remainder of the trip, I could not bring myself to drop the book. But as you will later find out, it would prove helpful to me in one of my matches later that week.

Sunday was our last day off, and we spent it doing a little bit of everything. A little bit of tennis, a little bit of the local golf driving range, a little bit of laying out by the pool, and a whole lot of sleeping and eating. That night we all went out to see "Starsky & Hutch" at the local theatre. What a pleasant day!

With all that rest and relaxation, we were ready for our first match the next day against Florida Southern.We got off to a quick start by winning all three doubles matches, putting us only two wins away from clinching the match (Division II rules have us play up to nine points, counting each doubles match as a point).

For the singles matches, Josh and I walked over to the other side of the athletic center since in the main playing area there were only enough courts to hold four matches. The No. 5 and 6 singles matches were relegated to the back courts. It reminded me of my high school tennis days when we played Beverly Hills High school at their similarly divided home courts. I never enjoyed it because I hated being cut off from the heart of the action.

Nevertheless, Josh and I discovered that we would be treated to the delightful cracking sounds of the baseball team batting practice in the neighboring cages (the "background music" never ceased). "I hate the sound of a bat striking a ball, because I always look to see if the ball is going to hit me," Josh commented.

It didn't faze Josh during the match, however, as he won his first set handily. Eventually, he won the match in three sets over his very vociferous and passionate opponent, who brought a fiery zeal to the tennis court the way a fresh dish of carne tampiquena brings vigorous stimulation to the taste buds.

On the other side of the athletic center, "Frodo" (Alex Jacobs) used his powerful ring to cruise to inevitable victory at No. 3 singles, winning 6-0, 6-3. Josh's win at No. 5 singles clinched the match for us, allowing me to play a 10-point super tie-breaker for the third set (thanks Josh!), which also happens to be one of my most hated formats, but fortunately I pulled through with a "W."

Our 6-3 victory over the No. 22 ranked NCAA Division II team Florida Southern gave us an early boost of confidence that would fuel us to even better levels of play in the matches to come.

Afterwards, it was interesting to learn that the house across the street from Tyson's belongs to Jennifer Capriati. When we pulled up to the driveway that evening, we noticed that there was some activity going on at her household. We contemplated the possibility of getting her to come out and hit with us at some point during the week, but then chickened out.

No worries. That evening was as equally relaxing as the one before, as we spent the time battling it out on the ping pong table, watching Jessica Simpson's reality tv show while engaging in prolonged debate over her deep and multi-faceted character traits, stringing rackets for the next day, or for some of us, calling our lovely girlfriends to comfort our aching hearts.

The next morning we woke up bright and early to go back to Florida Southern's tennis courts, where we would play University of Indianapolis. Our level of play picked up this time around, as we were able to cut down on our mistakes and play more confident and aggressive tennis.

Our doubles that day also improved, as our confidence from the match before translated into more aggressive and intelligent execution of points. We finished the match winning 9-0. I don't remember much of the rest the afternoon because I immediately fell into a long nap once we reached the house.

On the other hand, Tyson and Josh immediately searched for courts to exchange some routine crosscourt groundstrokes, diligently preparing for our showdown with Eckerd College the following day. To counteract the loss of water and minerals from sweating during the match earlier, Rubens went to the courts prepared with a jug of Pedialyte and a funnel to go with it.

I assumed that the rest of the boys remained at home on their best behavior for Mr. and Mrs. Ramsay. (i.e. no golfcart joyriding, no silly pranks, no unnecessary wrestling injuries, etc.)

Later that night, a few of us went out to the local theatres. J.P. and I went to see "The Passion" while Pat and Josh went to see "Miracle." Very different movies, I assure you. We went home and the rest of the guys were still chilling in the living room. Soon, it was time for bed as we prepared ourselves for the third and last day of battle.

Our match with Eckerd the next day would turn out to be the most intense, dramatic, and hostile match. We drove up in time to witness the Eckerd women's team duking it out with a visiting team. Watching their clean, precise strokes gave us the inspiration to play for perfection, and that was what we nearly achieved that afternoon.

After going up 2-1 at the end of the doubles matches, we proceeded to play our evenly matched singles matches. In the previous meets, courtesy, peace, and tranquility had generally been the norm. This match, however, would prove to be different. For some reason, the chemistry between their players and our players remained volatile throughout the duration of the singles matches.

At No. 2 singles, Tyson brought his "A" game and quickly dismissed his opponent in straight sets. His remedial hitting session the day before with Josh, his beloved hitting partner and doubles partner, must have given him the needed confidence to maintain that high level of ball stroking. The real T-Rex came out that day firing cannons off the ground--his opponent wasn't able to find any answers to Rex's carnivorous assaults.

At No. 6, I was up against a bulky character who appeared to come straight from Muscle Beach. After losing the first set, he was not amused that he was losing to a kid half his size, and proceeded to search for things to complain about. He rebuked me for not calling a let in the middle of one point in the second set when a ball rolled into the back court on his side. I honestly did not see it, and told him so. Later, my opponent threw some provocative comments at me, apparently out of frustration or in an attempt to intimidate me.

In most situations I would have simply ignored the opponent's behavior. Heck, that behavior usually does not come up in matches that I've played. However, after reading John McEnroe's autobiography, I was inspired to assertively vocalize my thoughts about his unnecessary comments and confront him about where I thought the direction of this match was headed.

He was visibly rattled at my sudden transformation in disposition. Ironically, the very next point, a ball rolled onto his side of the court and he ignored it! Regardless, this time I made sure to heed to his request and called the let that he had always wanted. The umpire agreed with my call and ordered us to play a let.

Oh well. From that point on, I went on to win the next six out of seven games to close out the match, 6-4, 6-1. What a beautiful day it was in the neighborhood. The clouds opened up and angels appeared from the sky…

At No. 3 singles, Jacobs was up against an apparently suave, well-tempered young opponent with a full head of beautiful, long hair. His strokes were smooth, solid, and penetrating, and we expected Jacobs to have his hands full.

But Jacobs was relentless, as he harnessed his diverse jedi artillery and persevered through each point as if it were his last (not exaggerating), eventually leaving his opponent baffled, frustrated, tired and broken. It got to the point where his opponent, already down a set and a break, resorted to accusing the integrity of Jacobs's shots.

If he hadn't been the victim of Jacobs's jedi mind tricks, he would definitely have appreciated the diversity of brilliant shots and strategies Jacobs brought to the match. I guess it isn't fun to be toyed with and made to look like an inexperienced amateur in front of a home crowd (some of which were cute girls who he must have wanted to impress).

On court 4, Redmond's opponent made some audible comments referring his embarrassment about losing to someone who was "just a kid." Redmond may have a baby face, but he is 160 pounds. of lean, mean fighting machine (Pat, how do you hit so hard?). Thank you Emory weight room! Thank you Steve for your "stick the landing" exercises!

Redmond, Odgers, and Rubens all were in the middle of three-set battles when the match was clinched. We had won, 5-1. It was a sweet feeling to go home with the three match wins under our belts, against three respectable Division II teams (Eckerd was ranked No. 23 at the time).

We still had another five days of spring break to kill, so a few of us went back to Emory while the rest either stayed at Tampa or flew directly to their homes, and some even drove to Miami for some good times.

Odgers decided to go back to Atlanta since he had some unfinished business related to his car registration and license. Or did he really? As it turns out, he was actually in Miss O'Leary withdrawal, and immediately bought a direct flight to Dallas to see her.

Rubens needed to go back to Atlanta so he could drive to New Orleans to see his lovely girl Hanna, a junior at Tulane. These were tough decisions for them, however, as the rest of the boys constantly prodded them to stay in Florida for some additional team bonding time. "Love is blind," some might say.

With that trip successfully completed, we have officially completed a good portion of our away matches, compiling an 8-1 record. Our string of home matches will begin on the 21st of March in our double-header against DePauw and Piedmont. Should be fun to play in front of more amicable crowds.

It has been a pleasure sharing a little bit of the Emory men's tennis team's adventures with all of you. For the moment, I'm off to tackling my next autobiography, "Holding Serve" by Michael Chang, but I promise I'll be back with more to share.

Jesse Ferlianto is a sophomore from Canyon Country, Calif. He would love to answer e-mail questions from Emory recruits and fans.