Pick up your racquet for a moment. Feel its weight in your hand. The grip familiar from hitting ten thousand balls. This trusty companion has carried you through wins and losses, good days and bad, and asked for nothing in return.

We've called out “Love Your Racquet,” but this track isn't really about the racquet. It's about everything the racquet stands for. It's about gratitude — and how easily we forget it.

Tennis gives us so much. A body that can move. A game that has taught us patience, courage, and how to lose with grace. Opponents who push us to be better — because without them, there is no game at all. Coaches who gave us their time and their belief. And yet how often do we step onto the court taking all of it for granted, our heads full of the froth and nonsense of the day, barely present at all?

So here is a small practice. Before your next match, take one breath. A real one. Breathe it all in — the court, the sunlight, the sound of a ball struck cleanly somewhere nearby. And breathe out everything that doesn't belong here. The traffic. The email. The argument. Let it go. You are lucky to be here. Many people would give anything to stand where you're standing.

And carry that same kindness onto the court with you. Be gracious to your opponent — they showed up for you. Be patient with your coach. And above all, be gentle with yourself. We are so quick to forgive a friend a bad shot, and so slow to forgive ourselves. The player who loves the game — and who loves themselves enough to play it freely — is far harder to beat than the one at war with every mistake.

Because loving your racquet, in the end, is just a way of loving the whole of it. The game. The people in it. The chance to be out here at all. And yes — learning, quietly, to love yourself.

So look after your racquet. Be thankful for the game. Be kind to the people who share it with you. And be kind to yourself. That's how you play with purpose. Carry it. Hear it. Live it.