it's funny what the little things can do to you. 3-4 in the first set, on serve, match is dead even, my serve, deuce, it's that period of the match where things are building toward the climax of the first set, waiting to see who can break the other person down that little bit and have an opportunity to win it. i've been serving well all day - the past few weeks, really, my serve has been on - and he knows it, this is the closest he's been to breaking my serve since the second game of the set, i can only imagine how much he wants to win this game and serve for the set. i hit another good first serve, get a short reply, slice a drop shot into his backhand and come in behind it - i know he can't do much with this shot, so i cover the line and dare him to try to go back crosscourt - he can't, as i knew, and he barely manages a floating return to my forehand - i have the ball on my racquet, and i hit a perfect shot, a lob volley into his backhand corner. time slows. i calculate more options in the next second than you can imagine - he's fast, i know he can get to this ball, but he won't be able to do much with it, he'll probably only be able to hit something back up the line unless he somehow manages to step around it, which he would have to be faster than this to do, so maybe he'll try something ridiculous, i don't see many tweeners but this is one player i don't know with abilities that i may be unaware of, the ball will bounce just a couple feet inside the sideline, giving him the slimmest of margins for error - the ball bounces. he takes that opportunity, i was right, it's a tweener but not with any pace behind it, straight into my forehand. i've hit untold thousands of routine forehand volleys in practice and matches and this one is no different, a simple  matter of sticking the racquet out and punching it into the open court, okay, eyes on the ball, plenty of room, just go into the open court - the ball makes contact with my racquet - and drops into the net. his point, his ad, my racquet drops from suddenly nerveless fingers and its clatter as it hits the ground covers his victorious yell as he knows that he just pulled off something remarkable and i know, just know, that he's going to win this game and serve out the set...i stare at the betraying racquet lying there on the ground and can't help but think that this match is over now, with him about to serve at 5-3 up and me having just suffered the most crushing of errors i've ever made.