Tennis pieces that don't slot neatly into strings, racquets, buying guides, or pro setups — broader explainers, industry notes, and gear we tested once. Browse here, or head back to the main sections in the nav above.
The grip that feels most unnatural in your hand is the one tennis started with. Everything else came later. That is the part most lesson plans skip.
The between-the-legs shot gets the highlight reel and the slow-motion replay and the commentator who forgets words for a second. It is the tennis shot everyone clips.
In the first round at Wimbledon in 2010, John Isner hit 113 aces in a single match. Mahut hit 103. The match ran 11 hours and 5 minutes across three days and finished 70-68 in the fifth set.
Three hundred ninety-five grams per shoe, in a US men's 10.5. That is the first number we wrote down when the Adidas SoleCourt Boost came out of the box on the scale, and it is the number we kept…
A court shoe lives or dies in about 300 milliseconds — the time it takes a foot to land, load, roll, and push off again, several thousand times across a single match.
There is a sentence you will hear in nearly every conversation about American tennis history: that the United States produced an unbroken line of champions until the 1990s, and then the well went dry.…
The left side of a tennis court is called the "ad court," but the name has almost nothing to do with the side itself.
Walk onto any public court and within ten minutes someone will tell you the rule of thumb: the ad court is on the left, the deuce court is on the right.
For roughly two decades, buying a Barricade meant accepting a deal. You got a fortress around your foot — the kind of lateral stability that lets you load a wide forehand and trust the shoe not to…
You have probably stood at the baseline, ball in hand, and felt a small jolt of doubt: which side am I supposed to serve from right now, and which one is the "ad court" everyone keeps mentioning?
If you've worn the Barricade line for years, you already know what you bought it for: a shoe that anchors you in the corner and dares you to load up on a wide ball without rolling an ankle.
There is a tidy idea that gets repeated on coaching blogs and in pub conversation: a tennis court is just a rectangle, 78 feet by 36, with a net down the middle.