When does it all come together?

All good things take time.

So they say.

And I know.

But how much time are we talking about?

My kids play tennis. Well, that's not entirely true. The truer statement is that they are learning to play the game. They've been "learning" for the past 3 years, and it's been a long ride of stress, frustration, and apathy to "I'm stupid for paying for this stupid game."

Didn't someone say "the definition of stupidity is doing the same thing again and again—expecting the same results"? Yeah, that defines me.

Coaches tell me that, at some point, everything clicks. I know this is true because it's universal - in habits, writing, learning, entrepreneurship—put in enough reps, and scattered threads suddenly weave into pattern. It's the aha moment. It's the I get it now moment.

But when will their tennis come together?

As a parent, I find it funny and painful. Absolute superstars during practice only to play a shadow of tennis during competitive games (in fact, people on the sidelines would say it's a stretch to call it tennis). Painful because tennis is expensive, and entry into these competitions is more than a meal for 4 at McDonald’s.

It's funny because, as an adult, you know all you have to do to win is play boring tennis, which is foundational, fundamental tennis:

Kids watch their heroes on screen, slicing, dicing, knifing, and smashing through games. They try to emulate these beasts, such as Sinner and Alcaraz. But it's hard to drill into their thought process that everything begins with boring. For most, boredom and consistency are likely combinations for success.

For now I'll continue with the tennis. Why? Because it seems like they actually like it (not liking it because I like it). The moment I get low-energy vibes, we're saying bye-bye to tennis.

Maybe the larger truth here isn't about tennis at all.

Maybe it's about accepting that mastery looks like boredom before it looks like brilliance.

And sometimes, that's exactly when it all comes together.