Seize the Day

I woke up that morning like I was unsure about my capabilities. I remember the previous day when my dad said, “Possibly three matches tomorrow. Don’t try to rush into every one of them. Just focus on the moment.”

Seemed simple.

The tennis tournament took place in Sofia, the capital city of Bulgaria. The hotel that I was staying at was located at a ten-minute walk from the courts, so I went there at about 9:30am. At that time, the first scheduled match on my court had already started, but I was calm because I was match number three and I had time to warm up and prepare my mind. On the court next to it, was my opponent practicing.

His name was Viktor. He was 5’7’’ with dark blue eyes and unstyled, shaggy blonde hair. His body was not even close to a tennis player – rather plump – wearing a tight red t-shirt that formed his belly fat. His game style looked like somebody that was holding a racket for the first time, and the one thing that he could annoy you the most with was his hoarse voice, like a teenager just entering puberty.

The time for the match came, and suddenly he approached as I was warming up:

“Are you my opponent?” He inquired.

“Yes,” I answered, unbothered.

“I have never seen you at any venue. Are you new here? Do you even have a

ranking?” He said with a confident smile on his face.

“No, I am not new,” I told him not even making eye-contact and continuing my warmup routine.

The reason why I didn’t make a conversation with him was not because I am not a social person but because tennis is a no-contact sport, and if I let his provocations get to me, I would lose my calm and eventually the match. And this was kind of his tactic, to which he actually admitted later on.

Match number one. I didn’t listen to what my dad said because I sensed that the longer I stayed playing against Viktor, the more I would fall for his trap in annoying me and would eventually lose. So, in order to win, I had to play direct balls with shorter rallies, which was not that simple since we were playing on the slowest surface of all – clay. I was sprinting for every ball, hitting it as hard and as wide as I could. That didn’t work, and he grabbed the first set 6:4. From there, I knew I had to change something. I noticed he was having a hard time on his backhand, and I started aiming there until the court was open to attack. After two hours and twenty-five minutes, I managed to make a comeback and win 4:6, 6:4, 6:2.

I wasn’t happy about what I showed, but I had to stay positive and forget about it.

Match number two. My second opponent was Marin, a younger player who carried himself with surprising confidence. He lacked power, relying on a heavy topspin to keep me running. After my exhausting first match, my body was already failing me. I knew that he would play high balls with topspin because he just didn’t have the height and power to play direct. What I didn’t know was how I would recover from the previous match.

The match had started. I took an early break leading 2:0, but my lungs were already tired, which was unusual. He managed to rebreak and made a comeback – 2:3. From there, we played game to game until it was 6:6, where he had to play a tiebreaker to seven points. It was 4:5 for him when I felt that one of my legs was cramping from the heat. I lowered my movement to preserve my energy but eventually lost the set 5:7 in the tiebreaker.

It was in the second set 0:1 when I cramped again, this time in both my legs. I played one point, and it was 0:15 when on the second one I found myself on the ground unable to move, after I tried to catch a dropshot. This was a crucial moment for me. Everything became dark. Suddenly, an indistinct voice whispered, “Carpe diem,” repeating it four times. I woke up suddenly when I saw the physio of the tournament pouring water over my face. I quickly stood up, but she confronted me:

“Don’t move. You are having heat stroke. You should give up and wait for the ambulance.”

I looked at her and laughed, and I said seriously, “No chance” going back to the baseline.

I knew at that moment that God was with me, and he wanted me to continue. I gave 100% in the match but lost 7:6 6:3. From there, I had a choice.

Match number three. I either go hard or go home. My teammate on doubles, Nikola, looked at me and said, “Man, you look terrible! We have a match to play in an hour and a half, but I will respect your decision if you give up. After all, health is most important.” He wasn’t feeling like it would be a big miss if we didn’t play the match, but for me it was different. Coming as an underdog made me even more passionate, because I wanted to prove them wrong, and now seeing my own teammate underestimating me felt hard.

“You better warm up because we are playing.” I answered him.

I took one pill of magnesium to relieve my muscles and from there I felt like I had new powers. God armed me with new strength like a reward for passing his test of dedication. The match finished very fast with an easy win for us 6:2 6:1. The most fascinating thing was that we managed to win the whole tournament.

Since that day, my faith in Jesus has reignited, and from then, after every match win, I make a cross sign to praise the Lord and his power.