Watching the pros train!

It’s a hot Saturday morning when I reach the tennis courts of Bombay Gymkhana to watch India’s top tennis stars, Mahesh Bhupathi and Sania Mirza, do some off-season training. I’m there at the designated time – 9:30 AM. Seeing no one around, I pull up a chair and read the newspaper – trying to act as nonchalant as possible – even as my nerves scale new highs on the Richter scale.

Two juniors, also part of the training camp, arrive. Next to us, a young girl is warming up; doing drills that would make Marion Bartoli look normal. I later realize she’s not here for the training session but is participating in a badminton tournament at the same venue.

I read the paper twice over. Still no signs of Hesh, Sania or Shyamal (their trainer and the one who agreed to let me come watch the training). It’s close to 10 AM when I decide to go get some water.

When I come back, Sania Mirza, in a pink top, black shorts and pink shoes, is sitting next to where I was seated just a few minutes ago. I missed her entrance. Her father is also around. I see Shyamal, hoping he would recognize me. He does. I walk up to him and say hello.

He tells me Mahesh is not feeling well and wouldn’t join; then gives me a rundown of the schedule – one hour of physical fitness followed by 90 minutes of tennis practice, after which he’ll get Sania to talk to me. I tell him I have a few questions for him too. He says he’s happy to answer them later.

Sania and the juniors get ready to hit the court. Someone makes a comment about the front page news of a former leading Bollywood actor’s sexual orientation. If that actor has any doubts about his orientation, I think Sania could set them straight. She looks very fit – tall and slim – with a nice tan – no visible scars or taping from her knee surgery.

Shyamal leads the trio onto the court. What follows is a series of exercises – which he would later describe as hand-eye co-ordination and agility exercises – for the next hour. The first one sees them start at the middle of the baseline, go straight up to the net, sideways to the left, then sideways to the right, sideways back to the centre and finally back to the baseline. One of the juniors – they call him Lukewarm – is very fluid in his movement – as if he is playing the piano as he stomps his feet side to side.

Scott Davidoff, the tennis coach and once an ATP pro himself, joins in too. Another drill has Shyamal standing behind the net on one side and throwing balls, making sure they go in different directions and are of different lengths, which the players need to catch with their hand. There are some hopping, skipping, jumping and sprinting exercises too; another seems like a take on Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” dance moves.

I’m trying keenly to observe Sania’s movement – knee injuries have known to prematurely end many a player’s career – but I don’t see any hindrances in her movement.

Another drill sees Shyamal throw weird shaped objects against a wall which the trio are expected to catch at one bounce; of course, their weird shapes mean the objects have a mind and a trajectory of their own. Sania is not too happy with the way Shyamal throws the objects. She asks for the roles to be reversed and throws some for Shyamal to catch. He’s not much better.

I’m trying to take everything in – there is a lot to notice, observe and hear. I learn that the Mirzas are staying in a suburban hotel which means at least a one-hour drive each way everyday. I’m wondering why they didn’t choose a hotel closer to this venue. The nose ring, as much a Sania trademark as her forehand, is on too. And just like any other 25 year old, Sania uses the breaks to check her phone and crack some jokes. There’s no grunting here but enough giggles to ensure that it’s not all work for the players.

After an hour, Sania and the juniors are exhausted. I’m exhausted just watching. Another 5 minute break, and it’s time to play some tennis. Former India Davis Cupper Mustafa Ghouse joins them for this session.

Sania and Shahbaz hit on one court; Mustafa and Lukewarm on the other. They start by hitting from the service line to warm up, followed by volley drills and overheads.

I’ve seen Sania play before so the pace on her forehand is not new to me. She hits a hard ball. What does strike me is her two-handed backhand. Sania can generate a lot of pace off that flank too. Scott, the coach, is giving Sania some tips. I’m trying to note them down hoping to implement the same for my weekend game of club tennis.

Take an extra step; get under the ball; if you’re out of position, take some pace off the ball – these are some of the tips that Scott shouts out.

Funnyman Cyrus Broacha passes by and checks in on how his friend, Mustafa, is doing against Sania – taking a few jibes at him much to the amusement of us around.

There are many drills with the tennis too – first the groundstrokes – cross court, then down the line; followed by the volleys. Post that, they move on to playing actual points. It’s not all fun and giggles though; at one point, Sania lets out an expletive when she misses an easy forehand. They wrap up by hitting a ton of serves and returns; and conclude with some stretching.

Lunch is ordered before the last break. Sania keeps it light with some chicken. As she walks past me, she asks me if we can talk after she showers. I tell her, “Sure – whatever suits you best.” She asks me to meet her in ten minutes.

Seeing no one around, I pull up a chair and read the newspaper AGAIN – trying to act as nonchalant as possible – even while my nerves scale new highs on the Richter scale. Someone’s phone goes off and the ring tone is the latest Bollywood chart buster – “Ooooh la la oooooh la la, Tu hai meri fantasy.” I’m thinking to myself that I’ve just watched a practice session of Sania Mirza and in a few minutes will interview the biggest star in Indian tennis. Meri fantasy toh shuru ho gayi!