The idea that some points in a tennis match are more important than others seems logical, obvious, and so hardly worthy of discussion. Yet I have always enjoyed challenging commonly held beliefs. The concept of the “big point” is deeply embedded in competitive tennis.
But popularity does not necessarily make an idea true.
Let us explore.
What Is a Big Point?
Two perceptions seem to arise when we buy into the big-point theory. One player may interpret a situation as a point that has to be won. Another may see it as a point that cannot be lost. Although these statements sound similar, they can produce very different approaches.
Brad Gilbert, in Winning Ugly, defines a big point as any point that can win a game or any point that, if won, would lead to a game-winning point.
I find this logic difficult to accept.
Imagine a four-rung ladder beneath an apple tree. The goal is to reach the apple. You cannot reach the fourth rung unless you first climb the third. You cannot reach the third without reaching the second, and so on.
Each rung is equally necessary because each one leads to the next.
Tennis is similar. We generally need to win four points to win a game. It may seem that the final point is the most important, but without winning the points that precede it, you never reach that final point.
So which point is most important when all of them are necessary?
How Does the Idea Affect Us?
Players respond to the concept of a big point in different ways.
Some players become energized by the prospect. They love competition, thrive on challenging themselves, and are motivated by the opportunity to succeed. For them, the possibility of winning may be so compelling that the fear of losing does not discourage them from competing.
Others respond very differently. Players who lack confidence or are uncomfortable comparing themselves with others may experience a big point as threatening. The idea that a point “must” be won can create doubt, fear, tension, and hesitation.
Of course, these are not fixed personality types. Most of us contain elements of both. Different circumstances can bring different parts of us to the surface.
This raises a more important question:
Does identifying certain points as “big” actually help us play them better?
The answer depends largely on how the player responds to the idea.
But if we are going to call a point “big,” we need to ask another question: What are we going to do differently?
Are we going to try harder?
If so, we immediately have a problem. If we play our best on the big points, what are we doing on all the other points?
We cannot play better than our best.
Are we comfortable telling players—especially developing juniors—that they should play some points with less than their best effort?
Should the Score Determine Our Tactics?
Another problem with the big-point theory is deciding how these points should actually be played.
Should we play safer?
Should we become more aggressive?
Should the score determine our shot selection?
Some players believe that a big point is an opportunity to surprise the opponent by doing something different. But how sensible is it to suddenly serve and volley if you are primarily a baseliner?
If you have not used that tactic much during the match, there is probably a reason. It may not be one of your strengths. Why would you choose an unfamiliar tactic on a point you have already decided is especially important?
And if serving and volleying is something you can do successfully, then it should be incorporated into your game throughout the match—not saved exclusively for a big point.
After all, you can only surprise an opponent once.
The same question applies to hitting a bigger first serve. If you decide that every big point requires your biggest serve, you make yourself more predictable and potentially increase the consequences of missing it.
And what happens mentally when that first serve misses?
If you have already convinced yourself that the point must be won, what kind of pressure are you now putting on your second serve?
Play the Ball, Not the Score
A fundamental principle of tactical play is variation.
At higher levels, opponents are constantly looking for patterns. If you respond to every “big point” in the same way, your opponent will eventually recognize the pattern and adjust.
More importantly, I believe that shot selection should be based primarily on the physical circumstances of the point.
The height, speed, depth, location, and spin of the ball matter. So do your own capabilities and your opponent’s strengths and weaknesses.
If you receive a ball you can attack, why should the score change that?
If the score is 15–15 and you receive an attackable ball, attack it.
If the score is 15–40 and you receive the same ball, why should you suddenly play differently?
Likewise, if you are in a defensive position, play defense.
The physical situation should determine your response more than the score.
The score is certainly relevant. It provides information, and there may be patterns in how your opponent plays particular situations. Those patterns can be useful.
But the score should not override the information coming from the ball itself.
The Problem with Playing Safe
Perhaps the most common advice concerning big points is to “play safe.” Don’t make a mistake. Play within yourself. Avoid making an error.
At certain levels and in certain circumstances, this may help a player win matches.
But I believe it can become increasingly dangerous as players attempt to reach their full potential.
Playing too safely can surrender the initiative to your opponent. If you consistently give up opportunities to attack because the point feels important, you allow your opponent to dictate the exchange.
As players improve, they generally need to become more willing to take appropriate risks.
The key word is appropriate.
Taking risks does not mean playing recklessly. It means having the confidence and skill to act when the situation calls for it.
The ability to take that risk calmly—without unnecessary tension—is an important skill. Unfortunately, these skills can begin to disappear during development when winning becomes more important than learning and improving.
What Does It Mean to Play the Big Points Well?
There are many theories about how to play big points, but I believe they ultimately miss the central issue.
The best big-point player is not necessarily the player who becomes more aggressive, more conservative, or more focused when the score becomes important.
It is the player who is least affected by the perceived importance of the point.
That player plays the point as well as possible—not better than possible, but as well as they play every other point.
The ideal state, for me, is what I call relaxed intensity.
The intensity comes from total commitment: 100 percent effort and complete engagement in the point.
The relaxation comes from detachment from the result.
Once the point begins, the player cannot afford to be thinking about its magnitude. Attention needs to be directed toward the ball, the opponent, the court, and the information immediately relevant to playing the point.
The less affected you are by the importance you have assigned to the point, the more likely you are to perform at your potential.
Winning or Improving?
Consider a player who reaches match point and plays very tentatively. The opponent eventually makes an error, and the player wins the match.
What has the player actually learned?
Yes, the player won. Perhaps the ranking improves. But rankings do not win future matches. Performances do.
The goal should be to continually improve performance and, through that process, become a better player.
What happens when that same player faces a stronger opponent who does not make the error?
Suppose the player again receives an attackable ball but plays tentatively because the point feels too important. This time, the opponent attacks the short ball and hits a winner.
The result may be different, but the underlying problem has not changed.
If you get an attackable ball, attack it—whether the score is 15–15 or 15–40.
If you are in a defensive position, defend.
Let the situation determine the response.
We Choose the Story
At lower levels of competitive tennis, it is common to see “big” points become long, cautious exchanges. Players hit loopy balls with short swings, trying desperately to avoid making a mistake.
This is understandable. When skill levels are lower, mistakes are more common, and players may have less trust in their own abilities. They may rely more heavily on the hope that their opponent will eventually make an error.
As skill levels increase, however, players generally become more capable of trusting their own skills. They become more willing to allow the outcome to be determined by what they can do rather than simply hoping their opponent misses.
At higher levels, players will sometimes say after a loss that they did not play the important points aggressively enough.
This is revealing.
The issue is not whether aggression is always the right answer. It is whether the player was able to execute the tennis that the situation required without becoming overly influenced by the perceived importance of the score.
Ultimately, we can choose the story we tell ourselves.
If believing in “big points” helps you focus and play your best tennis, then by all means use that story.
But if the idea of a big point frightens you, creates tension, or causes you to play tentatively, perhaps it is time to let the idea go.
Treat the point as another point.
Look at the ball.
Read the situation.
Trust your skills.
Then play.
Your choice.