This video has been making it’s way around the web and I have to thank New York City interior designer, Steve Adams to sending this to me. He said he can’t wait to do this with his son, and I agree! It is seriously one of the coolest things I have seen in a long time.
Long live dreaming!
Selected Life Lesson
Bigger isn’t always better.
-Cherie W’s Life Lesson from Cedar Rapids, Iowa
Richard’s Thoughts…
Sure the big house with three fireplaces and a pool and a butler sounds amazing! But you know what else sounds amazing? A day at the beach. A night under the stars. Curling up with a good book.
But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t reach for the stars. I want you dream big and the world needs you to! But remember, the sun is not always brighter on the other side. But when it is, all the pain, all the struggle, all the ups and downs become worth it.
We’re nearing the final quarter of the year … what do you want to go after? Now’s the time!
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I walked through the gates of the USTA Billie Jean King National Tennis Center on the hot and humid Friday afternoon. I didn’t have an entourage and there weren’t thousands of fans awaiting my mid-afternoon match, but in a way, it felt like the actual US Open. The grounds are in their final preparations for the hundreds of thousands of fans who will soon descend on this final major site to crown another year of champions.
But here I was, a kid who dreamed of hoisting the Wimbledon trophy as a kid, walking the player tunnel where Mary Joe Fernandez interviews the players. Then I stood at the doorway where the players always wait to be introduced. And then in my head, my name was called and the fans went crazy for I am an American in the twilight of my career and this may be my last best chance to win!
And there I was, in Arthur Ashe Stadium, on the court. I’ve watched probably a dozen matches in this enormous building, but to be able to walk out with my racquets in hand was breath-taking.
I looked at the American flag whipping in the wind on the South end of the stadium. I looked at the box seats wrapped all the way around mid-level. I looked at the chairs. Incredible.
And just like it was a match, we started to hit. I must say, that the court is huge. I mean huge! But I have to say, it felt like home. Not only was I back on the court, but this court and building that I have been watching matches unfold on for over a decade, I was hitting forehands, baseline-to-baseline and cracking backhands to Andrew’s backhand.
I wish I could find the words how to describe the entire experience, but I can’t find them. It was never something I thought I would have the chance to do, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. After nearly an hour on the court, it was time to go and as if I had won the match at the US Open, I took a ball and smashed it into the stands for my fans.
Not bad for a Friday afternoon. Funny thing is, all I had to do to make this happen, was ask.
On July 8, 2012, the Scot Andy Murray did something that no man had done in 74 years: Play in a Gentleman’s Singles Final at SW19, better know as Wimbledon. After four straight years in the semi-finals, he finally made it through, but waiting for him on the other side was probably the best player in the history of the men’s game: Roger Federer.
I must confess before I write any more: I have long been an Andy Murray fan, even writing a blistering letter to him at BackSeatFan.com.
I have defended him through his three grand slam final defeats where his set count was 0-9. Why my fellow tennis fans always asked me.
And my answer never seemed to be enough, but it has always been simple: The guy can flat out play. When he wants to, his forehand can be one of the best in the game. And hands down, his backhand can be lethal. But for the past four years, he hasn’t played offensive tennis. He’s the fittest player on tour and can play as long as anyone, but something wouldn’t let him be offensive.
Enter great Ivan Lendl and he has finally started to play like the man I’ve known he could be. He man has all the shorts in the game and one of the biggest hearts. That mentality is what endeared me to Rafael Nadal so many years ago. It’s who I am and who I would be if I were that good of a tennis player. It’s why I felt tears as I crossed the finish line of my marathon this past June.
Sadly, on July 8, I had to watch as Murray won the first set, squandered the second and watched in horror – but not surprise – as Federer took control and claimed his 17th Grand Slam title.
But here is where the story changes. I was gutted. I thought he had it. I thought the curse of Fred Perry had ended. But when Murray took the microphone and cried through his speech, he won over the hearts of every British tennis fan who had held back for so many years. My best friend’s brother even texted me, “I am a Murray fan now.”
So, why the sudden shift? Heart. Plain and simple. A man stood there in his Wimbledon whites with nearly the entire crowd and a heart-broken Kingdom cheering him on, and cried. He wanted to win as much for himself as them. And so another year goes by and the Kingdom must wait and wonder how long they must wait.
But here’s the thing: They have a champion in Murray. And for that, they and I am proud. It’s about the heart. Watch the video of his speech and judge for yourself.
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