When I first stumbled on Juan Manuel Cerundolo’s matches online, man, I gotta say, I didn’t pay much attention. Some young Argentinian guy winning a clay court tournament? Okay, cool. But honestly, as a weekend player pushing 40, I figured his stuff wouldn’t fit me.
Then I kept seeing his name pop up. That fighting spirit, you know? Always grinding, even when losing. That got me curious. Started digging deeper into interviews, bits of training info floating around. That’s when I decided, screw it, maybe there’s something here for my own rusty game. No coach, no fancy program – just me trying some stuff out, borrowing what might work. Here’s the mess that followed.
Starting Simple (And Feeling Stupid)
First big takeaway I saw was footwork. Clay court specialists like Cerundolo? They move like greased lightning, sliding everywhere. My feet felt planted in concrete. So, step one: tried adding pure sliding drills to my warm-up.
- Busted out the old ladder in my driveway.
- Focus: short, explosive little hops sideways, land soft like I was absorbing impact.
- Did sideways shuffles, trying to push off and glide low.
- Felt like a newborn deer trying to ice skate. Completely awkward. Fell on my ass twice the first day. Legs burned like crazy after just 10 minutes. Seriously questioned my life choices.
Stuck with it though. Added it before hitting, every single session, just for 10-15 mins. Brutal. But slowly, the legs stopped screaming as loud. Started actually feeling myself slide a tiny bit when reaching wide on court. Small win!
Rally Tolerance? More Like Rally Suffering
Okay, footwork starting to feel less like lead. Next challenge: Cerundolo doesn’t just hit winners constantly. He extends rallies, especially on clay, making opponents work. My rally tolerance was… pathetic. Three hard shots in a row and I was gasping.
My dumb solution? Hit against the wall. But with rules.
- Set a timer: 5 minutes straight rallying.
- Goal: Keep the ball going WITHOUT stopping or whacking winners. Consistency only.
- Didn’t matter how weak my shots were, just keep it alive.
- First time? Embarrassing. Could barely get to 90 seconds. My forearm felt like mush. That damn concrete wall felt like the world’s toughest opponent.
Kept at it daily. Just five damn minutes. Gradually pushed the timer up to 8 minutes. Still not pretty, still felt exhausting, but the ball stayed in play way more. On court, felt less panicked during longer points. Less rushing.
The Patience Thing (Where I Lost My Mind)
Here’s where it got mental. Watching Cerundolo, he’s so comfortable waiting. Waiting for the right shot, not rushing the point ender. Me? I see a slightly short ball and go for the absolute kill, usually straight into the net.
Tried forcing myself to play practice points where I wasn’t allowed to hit a winner until at least the SEVENTH shot in the rally. No, I’m not joking.
- Played mini-games with a buddy, deep behind the baseline.
- Forced to hit high, looping shots, deep to the middle. Over and over.
- Felt excruciatingly boring. Point after point building, fighting the urge to just crush it.
- My hitting partner laughed at how frustrated I got. Seriously wanted to scream sometimes. It felt unnatural, slow, dull.
Weirdest thing happened though. After a few sessions of this torture, I started noticing gaps more often later in points. When I did finally get to go for something, it actually felt… cleaner. Less forced. Fewer errors. Less panic. Still suck at patience, but maybe 5% better?
Results? Don’t Expect Miracles
Look, I’m not suddenly beating college players or anything crazy. Still the same mediocre club dude. BUT… after sticking with this grind for a few months:
- Moved way better on clay. Can chase down shots I used to just watch go by.
- Can actually sustain a rally for more than 30 seconds without wanting to collapse. Won a few extra points just by lasting longer.
- That annoying habit of going for winners too early? Happens less. Still happens, but less. And when I do go for it, it feels more intentional, less desperate.
- Weirdest bonus: mentally tougher during tight points. All that suffering paid off somehow.
So yeah, the takeaways? It wasn’t magic, just hard, boring work. Footwork drills suck. Long rallies suck. Playing patiently sucks. Building it into my routine sucked. Nothing revolutionary, just applying bits of what makes Cerundolo effective. The journey’s messy, uncomfortable, and honestly kinda stupid-looking sometimes. But little pieces started clicking. Felt good. Probably gonna keep stealing bits of his grind.
