Proud Of Our Alumni!

Dear ATA,

It’s been a while since I’ve been around the ATA, or spoken with anyone in the loop, but I was just recently reading all of the exciting news that’s been coming out of the ATA from the past few months and thought it would be a good time to check in. Additionally, I’ve been reading the letters that other ATA alumni have sent to the ATA in the past, and realized that I hadn’t thrown in my two cents on the ‘college experience’; I thought that I might try to share some thoughts from my experiences as well, since they will have undoubtedly been different from everyone else’s, seeing as I unfortunately haven’t been playing competitive tennis for a while now. I’m warning you now; this email is going to be long, as I am pretty emotionally tied to the ATA and these thoughts, so read only if you really want to and if you don’t mind taking a while out of your day to listen to my ramblings.

Let’s start with the challenges first: if I were to summarize my sophomore year in one phrase, I would have to say that phrase would be “a learning experience”. To put it bluntly, I don’t think I’ve ever struggled with anything in my life up to this point as much as I did with balancing a tremendous workload (6 classes), Notre Dame Football (and the associated band responsibilities), managing my social life, planning my future career, staying healthy, and, above all, TRYING TO REMAIN SANE. I’m joking of course about the remaining sane part, but at times the ‘college experience that everyone talks about can be utterly overwhelming; ask any ATA alumnus and I’m absolutely certain they will feel exactly the same way. There are times when you can literally be a week behind in work with three projects and two papers due in a few days and no reprieve in sight, and the only thing you can do is to put your nose to the grindstone and pound it out. Sometimes, when I’m sitting on the 13th floor of the library, exiled in my sound-proof study room, the mounting pressure can get ridiculous, because I know that there are people all over the university studying for the same test, probably working just as hard as me (and probably wanting to punch through a window just like me). These are the moments, though, where I feel like I have an advantage over some other people. Being at the ATA taught me, among other things, the great value of discipline, and the impact that preparedness and consistent hard work can have on the outcome of future events. Even to this day, I find studying late into the night/early morning directly comparable to waking up every other day at 5:30am for those grueling laps around the track at St. Stephen’s, or those painful weight-lifting sessions at Barton Creek in the early days of the ATA, or the equally taxing sessions at Gold’s Gym. I can’t say that I was ever a perfect model of discipline at the ATA; everyone has their weaknesses, and I certainly have quite a few. But I can say that the value of the lessons learned at the ATA did not escape me, and that those lessons are at least as applicable to everyday life as they are to tennis. So that’s take away lesson number one, I suppose: keep on keeping on, because at times that’s all you can do. When times get tough, anyone from the ATA will always have their outstanding discipline and work ethic to fall back to, and that’s something that the vast majority of people entering college and/or everyday life will never have had the chance to develop.

The ‘learning experience’ idea continues with my next thought: there really is something to be said for the ‘never give up’ ideal that seems so overly quoted, at least in my life. Although this motif tends to go hand-in-hand with the earlier thought I had regarding discipline, I think (and my experiences have made it clear) that there is another layer of meaning here that really resonates with me. There’s a uniquely disturbing feeling that I’m sure everyone reading this has felt at some point during their careers, whether it be on the court or in the classroom, or in any other competitive enterprise for that matter: there comes a time when, in the heat of the moment and the battle is raging that you suddenly become concerned that you might lose this one; right there at that very moment, you unintentionally begin to make things much more difficult for yourself as that growing sense of doubt almost unfailingly turns into fear. I know that I myself have experienced this feeling many times, perhaps too many (especially during my countless tennis matches). This is one of those times when discipline and concentration are critical and will certainly help you, but will not necessarily solve the problem. You can be disciplined and stay the course, but those constantly nagging concerns in the back of your mind rarely leave of their own accord, and can really bog you down. I have found that only one thing can help in this circumstance: Belief, and yes that’s belief with a capital B. I’m going to give an example, and yes, it involves ND football; that’s no reason to ignore its validity, even if you’re a UT fan. As you might recall, ND played USC this fall in South Bend; this year was special, what with the re-emergence of ND as a powerhouse magnifying the annual arch-rivalry and all. Anyway, you know the story: a Notre Dame team with underwhelming talent nearly topples what at the time was considered one of the “greatest college football teams of all time”; once again, this shows the stupidity of ESPN, but that’s beside the point. Oddly enough though, when I was standing there on the field watching this unbelievable game play out, I could only attribute the performance of our team to one thing: their undeniable belief that they could win. Looking back on it now, I’ve seen many examples of this throughout my life: Ashley Weinhold beating a panicking Christy Baxley in the Texas Cup when she was only 12 years old to Christy’s 16 is one that will probably stick out permanently in my mind. Having seen numerous similar “upsets” throughout my tennis career, they all seem to come down to one thing: Belief. Perhaps I never felt confident enough in my tennis game to really feel this kind of belief when I played, but standing there on the field, willing my team to victory, I realized that I was thinking differently about competition than I ever had before: even though I wasn’t actually playing, I felt the tangible effect that the crowd’s belief was having on the team, and when I felt that kind of support, I felt like they could not fail. As it turned out, they failed by only the slimmest of margins, a last second touch down gifted to USC by the refs resulting from yet another clutch play by Leinart a few downs before. While the loss of the game was certainly crushing (I still can’t talk about it without getting angry), as time goes on I realize that the day was a successful one for me. It may seem silly to you, but that might have been the day that I first witnessed the power of Belief in relation to my own life, and it may have been the first time that I really felt it as well. Since then, I have made a point of trying to be more confident in my own decisions and actions, and not surprisingly, it has really made a significant impact on my life. It’s difficult to quantify what this kind of belief means, because I think that each person has to feel it for themselves before they understand it. Similarly, if it could be readily explained, I’m sure that I would have learned what Belief actually meant much sooner that at ND, since the coaches at the ATA talk about it and attempt to help people understand and grasp it all the time. Still, if I (in my truthfully unqualified position) were to give any kind of advice to ATA members of any age or experience level, it would be this: Believe in what you can do. People will never stop telling you to do that, and you are probably tired of hearing it, but when you feel it, you’ll know what I’m talking about. Often times, you’ll find that you are capable of things that you didn’t think you were if you simply Believe that you can do it. Try it out some time if you haven’t already; it’s pretty cool. And when the going gets tough and “just Believe” seems like the stupidest advice that you could possible get (come on, this is the classic cynical Danny Saad talking here), don’t just give up on it because things don’t seem to be getting better; that’s the caveat, of course, and this is the part that I always struggled with the most. It’s hard enough to keep focused and try your hardest in the midst of a competitive match, much less muster the strength of will to Believe in yourself. That is part of the value of tennis though, and I guess would be take home lesson number two; each battle has a profound effect on your opinion of yourself, and each battle, regardless of the outcome, is a chance to A) find out what you Believe and B) learn how to Believe in yourself a little more. I personally believe that the ATA teaches this kind of belief as a staple of its mission, something that very few other sports academies can say. That makes me proud to be an alumnus of the ATA, and it should do the same for every student, instructor, coach, parent, or any other member of the ATA family.

The final point (see, I told you this was going to be long) that I want to make is of quite a different nature than the others. Perhaps the most unique thing about the ATA (in relation to other sports programs) is the unique sense of ‘family’ that seems so prevalent in the ATA organization. Everyone - whether it’s from the youngest players to the older mentors, from the coaches to the parents, or from the supporters to the volunteers - is part of the ATA family, and each and every person (in my experience) respects and appreciates each other. Sure, there are squabbles and misunderstandings; tempers flare, fights break out, and things sometimes get said that shouldn’t have been. Still, everyone is joined by a common goal: to best the best that they can be. I believe that the “ATA family” appreciates that common goal more than most other institutions, and the combined effort of everybody to all get there together is what makes the ATA such a wonderful and powerful place. Truly sappy sentimentalism, I know; still, I feel confident in making the assertion that very few other groups of people in my life will ever have the same kind of profound impact on me that my colleagues, coaches, and friends at the ATA had on me. You will undoubtedly carry that sense of family with you wherever you go, and you will be surprised at the places that it will turn out to mean something. For example, on the very first day of classes at Notre Dame during my freshman year, I rolled into chemistry wearing one of the same ATA shirts that I had worn to practice countless times. Within one minute of sitting down at my desk in a room of more than 75 people, one guy came down to me and introduced himself, solely because he recognized the ATA symbol and what it stood for. He said that he had seen a lot of ATA people play before, having once been a nationally-ranked tennis player himself before a career-ending injury, and he just wanted to say that he respected our players and thought we had a special organization. I was stunned to say the least, but at the same time incredibly proud that someone outside of our small little bubble in Texas appreciated what the ATA stood for. It had occurred to me before that when you put on that ATA shirt, people associate you with a whole group of people, rather than just concentrating on you, but I’d never really experienced it quite so concretely. I was so happy in that moment to be associated with the ATA family, and I’m sure that you will appreciate the same feeling in time if you don’t already. As it so happens, the ATA even followed me to Paris this summer. I was in the middle of studying in France for 6 weeks when I happened to be in the same museum as Melissa and Alexis Weinnig, and Mary Bain. It was so great to see people so far from home that I knew and that had shared some of the same pivotal experiences as me; plus, I was so tired of not being able to speak English with people that seeing some old friends really made my day! It just goes to show you that the ATA family can be any- and everywhere, and that it not only means something to people at home, but also to people all over the world.

There you have it: a way too comprehensive summary of my first two years at Notre Dame. There’s a ton more to tell, but considering how fried my brain is after writing this, I’m sure that yours is just as fried from reading it. I hope that everything is going well at the ATA, and that this message is finding everyone enjoying the summer vacation. Best wishes for continued success, and here’s hoping that I can get out of my office cubicle and out to the ATA sometime soon!

Good luck, and GO IRISH!

Danny