There Is A Terrific Apprehension

I Have Become Convinced That We Blacks Spend Too Much Time On The Playing Field And Too Little Time In Libraries.

There Were Times When I Asked Myself Whether I Was Being Principled Or Simply A Coward.... I Was Wrapped In The Cocoon Of Tennis Early In Life, Mainly By Blacks Like My Most Powerful Mentor, Dr. Robert Walter Johnson Of Lynchburg, Virginia. They Insisted That I Be Unfailingly Polite On The Court, Unfalteringly Calm And Detached, So That Whites Could Never Accuse Me Of Meanness. I Learned Well. I Look At Photographs Of The Skinny, Frail, Little Black Boy That I Was In The Early 1950s, And I See That I Was My Tennis Racquet And My Tennis Racquet Was Me. It Was My Rod And My Staff.

...i Spent Many, Many Hours In...libraries. Libraries Became Courts Of Last Resort, As It Were.

I Don't Care Who You Are, You're Going To Choke In Certain Matches. You Get To A Point Where Your Legs Don't Move And You Can't Take A Deep Breath. You Start To Hit The Ball About A Yard Wide, Instead Of Inches.

When We Were Together, I Loved You Deeply And You Gave Me So Much Happiness I Can Never Repay You.