Tennis has a point-based, rather than a time-based, scoring system. A match ends when a player wins a certain number of sets, which requires winning a certain number of games, which consist of points. Consequently, a player never runs out of time to win; the only way to lose is to allow your opponent to win enough points. One of the interesting implications of this scoring system is that before the match actually ends it is in principle always possible for the player who is trailing to win. In contrast, a soccer team trailing 4-0 with 10 minutes to go has all but lost the match because it’s virtually impossible to score that many goals in such a short time. In tennis, however, even a significant deficit can be made up at any stage.

What has already happened in a tennis match is still important, though in a different way. As an opponent’s lead grows the task of coming back becomes more and more daunting for the other player, but it never really becomes physically or technically impossible. Rather, the challenge is psychological. The key for a player in this situation is to stop discouraging himself by thinking of past missed opportunities and the accumulated deficit – the proverbial “hole” to dig out of – and to focus instead, defiantly, on the potential for a comeback that continues to exist. As long as he can muster belief that he can play out the remaining points properly, a player preserves a fighting chance. Once this conviction is lost, however, the result of the match is a foregone conclusion. This can often be seen in a player’s body language. Sometimes, a player who is trailing will come particularly close to breaking back but ultimately come up short, after which his body language will change to manifest a decidedly broken spirit and lack of hope. At this point, the match isn’t technically over, but it is pretty much over.

As rare as they are, we’ve all witnessed or even participated in one of those improbable comebacks where a match that seems lost gets turned on its head and ultimately reaches a favourable denouement. I recently played a competitive singles tournament with the OTA. In the qualification round I faced a tough opponent who was leading 5-1, 40-0 on his serve in the third set. In other words, he was just one point from winning the match and had multiple chances to get this point, on his serve no less. Overall he was a more experienced opponent who had outplayed me so far. I was preparing for the end of our encounter but refused to let myself be ushered off the court. I kept my focus on the remaining points, putting in just as much effort as if I still had a clear chance of winning. Fending off the first several match points, I slowly gained momentum, grew in confidence, and ultimately went on to claim the match in a tiebreaker. It’s seeing and living dramatic reversals like this that can give us the inspiration to underpin hope in seemingly forlorn circumstances.

Life, to be sure, does have a time limit. We are mortal and will eventually die. Apart from this ultimate limit, though, there are many other limitations that are self-imposed and result from a loss of will rather than true incapacity. For example, it might seem as if, after a certain age, it’s impossible to get in good shape or make a career out of our passion. The truth, however, as someone once said on this topic, is that we don’t miss the fitness train or the career train. Those train haven’t left; we just stopped thinking of them as our trains and cut off our journey to the station. In this sense, life is like tennis. Our unrealized dreams and ambitious projects are usually not truly out of reach, and those with unwavering determination and clear-headed optimism will find that they can still accomplish a lot more than they were “supposed to” under their life circumstances.