Successful father-coach combos rare
The year was 1998. Sweat poured down my sunscreen-slathered face as I battled a junior tennis nemesis on the hard courts of a public park in Orlando, Fla. My mother was a fixture on the sideline during my junior tennis days in Florida, calmly reading a book or jotting down to-do lists between points.
But on that steamy spring weekend, my father accompanied me to my 16-and-under tournament. A tennis pro by trade, he taught me how to play the game that I grew to love, spending countless ...
Read full story