Windows, Doors, and Joy: Supporting Your Junior Tennis Player in a Competitive World

As a parent of a junior tennis player, you’re already familiar with the grind—early mornings, long drives, match after match, and the emotional rollercoaster that comes with competition.

But here’s a deeper question worth asking:
Are you looking for solutions through windows… or behind doors?

Windows are easy. You see the tournament draws, the rankings, the match stats. You hear what coaches say. You watch your child play and measure their progress against what’s visible. It’s natural—and tempting—to focus on what’s on display.

But what happens when the results stall… or when the sparkle in your child’s eyes starts to fade? That’s when it’s time to stop looking through windows and start opening doors.

Doors are harder. You can’t see through them. They require curiosity and courage. Behind those doors are the real questions:

• Is my child still enjoying this?

• Are we chasing rankings more than we’re cultivating passion?

• Are we celebrating effort as much as we celebrate wins?

Junior tennis is inherently competitive. That’s not a bad thing. Competition teaches resilience, focus, and discipline. But if the pursuit of excellence overshadows the joy of the game, we risk losing what brought our kids to the court in the first place.

Here’s the key: joy and competition are not opposites.
They’re partners. In fact, the most successful—and fulfilled—players are the ones who find joy within the grind.

As a parent, you play a huge role in that balance.

• Through the window, you might say: “You should’ve won that match.”

• Behind the door, you could ask: “What did you learn from that match?”

• Through the window, you might see a slump and think: “We need more lessons.”

• Behind the door, you might realize: “They’re feeling pressure to be perfect.”

Joy doesn’t mean they’re not working hard.
It means they’re connected to why they’re working hard. It means they can bounce back from losses with perspective. It means tennis isn’t just something they do—it’s something they love.

So the next time you're searching for answers, ask yourself:
Am I just observing through the window, focused on what I can measure?
Or am I opening the door, listening, asking, connecting—so my child can grow, compete, and still love the game? Because in the end, it’s not just about raising a great tennis player. It’s about raising a great human—one who finds joy, even in the heat of competition.