Huamantla, Mexico

The last two weeks in Huamantla, Mexico were both the lowest and highest points of my professional career thus far. I went from crying in my bedroom and almost booking a flight home to accomplishing my greatest tennis goal yet.

I traveled to Mexico to play two ITF M15 Futures in Huamantla, a small town about two hours east of Mexico City. This was my first time being in Mexico, and being safe was a top priority. Luckily, the tournaments provide a (very expensive) shuttle to get from the airport to the tournament hotel. I arrived safely and went straight to get some tacos and guacamole!

Huamantla sits on the side of a volcano at over 8,000 feet of elevation. I’ve played in elevation before in Colorado and Northern Arizona, but this was another level of extreme. They use depressurized balls that don’t even come in a can — just a cardboard box — and they already feel a bit dead. The ball flies much farther than normal, breathing is tougher, and serving becomes extremely important while returns become much more difficult. Rallies are generally shorter as well.

I was able to get some practice in and link up with former University of Portland player Luka Vukovic.

Week one I played qualifying and faced a Mexican player in the first round. After a bit of a slow start, I took care of business in straight sets. In Mexico, qualifying is only 32 players, so you only need to win two matches to reach the main draw.

In the second round I played a British player named Stefan Cooper. I had beaten him in three sets back in college when Portland State played Weber State, but it had been a few years. Cooper has a very unique playing style. He has a world-class serve, slices all of his groundstrokes, and serves and volleys every single point on both serves. In this elevation, that style works extremely well.

I came out returning his serve well and broke him the first three service games in a row — only to get broken right back each time. I couldn’t serve. Before the match I had raised my string tension by about 7–8 pounds, and it was simply too high. I lost the sweet spot and had no feeling on my serve. Double fault after double fault. I think I averaged almost two per game.

Somehow I still found myself leading in both sets, serving at 4–3 each time, but I couldn’t close them out. I lost 6–4, 7–5. This one was on me. My serve had completely broken down and I couldn’t get one or two holds to finish the match. The elevation suited his game style very well, but I tried not to hang my head too much on the loss. With a few more days of practice and the draws looking a bit weaker the following week, I liked my chances for week two.

I had also signed up to play doubles in week one with a Moldovan player who had some ATP points, but we missed the cut since there is no qualifying for doubles.

The hardest part about Futures tournaments is the waiting. If you lose early, you often spend five or six days sitting around waiting for the next tournament to start.

For week two, I was the fourth alternate to get into qualifying. Some spots had opened up on the entry list, so I was clearly going to move into the draw. And with me being straight into the qualifying draw in the first week, I had nothing to worry about. What I completely blanked on was that if you are listed as an alternate, you still have to go sign in with the ITF supervisor by 6 PM the night before to prove that you are on site and ready to play.

At about 6:15 PM it hit me.

I realized I hadn’t signed in.

In complete panic, I sprinted over to the ITF supervisor’s office to try and make my case and beg them to let me sign. It was too late. The entries had closed and the draw had already been made.

I sat in the supervisor’s office for about 15 minutes just soaking in the mistake I had made. After waiting around all week and playing some of my best tennis in practice, I couldn’t believe I had missed the one thing I needed to do.

I felt devastated, pissed, angry, and embarrassed. I had invested a lot of time, training, and money into this trip, and I couldn’t even give myself a chance to compete. That night was one of the lowest points I’ve had in tennis. I seriously considered booking a flight home the next morning, but I decided to sleep on it.

After talking with family and some close friends, I calmed down and decided it was worth staying a few more days to try to get into the doubles draw. I figured that after already waiting a full week, what was a few more days?

Luckily, I partnered with a Moldovan player named Aurel Ciocanu who had a few ATP doubles points, which gave us a better chance of getting into the draw.

After a couple more days of waiting, we got in.

I was finally set to play my first professional doubles match after signing up for doubles at tournaments for over a year and never getting into the draw. It had been incredibly frustrating, because I’ve always felt that doubles was one of the strongest parts of my game.

Well, I finally got my chance.

In the first round we drew the #2 seeds — two Italian players ranked around 600 in the world, with one of them having been inside the top 350 just two years ago.

We had nothing to lose.

Having played a lot of doubles throughout my life, I felt very comfortable stepping onto the court. From the start I could tell our opponents were underestimating us. They weren’t taking the warm-up very seriously and just gave off a relaxed vibe.

We knew we needed to start strong.

We chose to receive when we won the coin toss, hoping to grab an early break — and we did. We broke the 6'6" Italian in the very first game and held the rest of the set, winning it 6–4.

In the second set we secured another early break and were up 4–3 when things got strange. One of the Italians started complaining that the umpire was making bad calls. He called for the supervisor and then asked for the physio because his stomach didn’t feel well.

Of course the supervisor was about 85 years old and took ten minutes to get to the court. Then they argued for another ten minutes before play resumed.

Their tactic of icing us worked.

I stepped up to serve and double faulted twice, giving them the break. 4–4.

They held for 5–4. We held for 5–5. Then we broke the same Italian who had been complaining the whole time to go up 6–5.

I stepped up to serve again.

And this time I held.

7–5.

There it was — my first ATP points.

This was probably the happiest I’ve ever felt on a tennis court. I had been dreaming of that moment for a long time. All the hours on the court, the grind, sweat, pain, tears, and battles that go into chasing this career all came flooding in at once.

I soaked it all in. My partner and I took some pictures on the court, then had a great meal and a celebratory drink that evening before locking back in for the next round.

In the second round we rolled our opponents 6–2, 6–1. My partner and I were starting to gel and understand each other’s play styles. ATP points double every round you win, so now we were up to four.

We had reached the semifinals of my first professional doubles tournament.

In the semifinals we faced two Brazilian players who had made the finals the week before. We battled hard, but they outplayed us and won 6–3, 6–2. It didn’t feel disappointing at all. Reaching the semifinals of my first pro doubles event felt like a huge success.

After going through one of the worst nights of my tennis career by missing the singles sign-in deadline, the week turned into one of the highlights of my career.

It’s funny how often in life when something bad happens, if you just stick it out, good things eventually come. In tennis especially, sometimes your worst match or tournament is followed by your best.

I left Mexico as an official professional tennis player with ATP points. I even received my first prize money — $160, which ended up being about $100 after taxes and entry fees. Just enough to cover my taxi back to the airport.

This trip gave me a huge boost of confidence and motivation to keep fighting on tour. These ATP points also allow me to get into more doubles events in the future.

I’m incredibly thankful for everyone who has supported me on this journey so far. Hopefully, this is just the first of many ATP points.

Now I’m off to Houston to play a PTT and continue proving my singles game.

For all the highs and lows, Mexico will not be a place I forget.