Orun’s 2025 Tennis Wrapped: The Parallel Between Coaching and Academics

2025 was filled with learning experiences, both on and off the court — academically, socially, and personally. Through all of it, I kept noticing the same connection: the habits that make someone a serious student are the same habits that make them a serious tennis player.

Now that I am entering my sixth season as a tennis professional, each year I coach, the same truth becomes clearer: the players who improve on court are often the same people who succeed academically. It has a lot to do with how they show up. I can tell a lot before the first ball is hit, from the way someone walks onto the court, to how their bag is organized as well as the quiet warm-up they start without being asked. I’ve seen that same presence in the classroom: notebook open early, questions prepared, already engaged and ready to rock and roll. It’s the same mindset expressed in two different environments.

For a long time, I thought tennis and academics were separate lives. One felt physical, emotional, unpredictable; the other structured and logical. Eventually, the overlap was impossible to ignore. In both places, progress comes from preparation, not force. It comes from understanding why something broke down instead of convincing yourself to try harder next time. It comes from refusing to hide behind “I’ll try,” and choosing instead to say, “I’ll be ready.”

The players who grow the most are the ones who ask the right questions.

"How come my set-up is late?"

"Why do I let my emotion take control of my match?"

"Why does my backhand collapse during a crucial point?"

Those moments feel a lot like sitting over an economics assignment at night, realizing the issue isn’t information. It’s ownership. In both areas, technique without identity doesn’t last. You have to know what you stand on.

There’s a moment I see often in lessons that reveals everything. I ask, “What was your intention behind that?” and some players freeze. They realize there wasn’t one. They were playing to survive the rally, not direct it. Their answer is, “To get the ball back,” but performance begins when your shots start having meaning, not just motion. That hesitation tells me exactly where the real work needs to begin.

I’ve always respected the way Patrick Mouratoglou frames it: coaching is not only a correction, but also an identity. It’s about raising a player’s standards until their habits match their ambition. I’ve had to apply that to myself. One bad point, one missed question, one rough day do not decide the outcome. What matters is who you choose to be in the next moment.

Tennis taught me resilience. Academics taught me clarity. Together, they taught me responsibility. I don’t separate them anymore. They’re two sides of the same discipline: show up early, prepare with purpose, adjust without excuses, and build standards that don’t disappear when things get difficult.

Growth doesn’t announce itself. It starts quietly before anyone notices, before anyone applauds, before the results catch up to the person you’ve already decided to become.

Orun Genki Altintas, PTR