... surviving instinct wasn't something I had to learn how to do, and yet, in my tennis until recently, where I started to play more and more serious singles matches, I had done few of them before and some of them not at all.  Before every match, I worried that I might do something not proud to myself just to win-- and worried that I'd act lame on the court, to the eyes of the onlookers.

As it turned out, it wasn't something that could be avoided; the survival instinct just too great.

For the entirety of this one particular match, I hadn't hit one single regular backhand to the end.  In fact, for the very last point I hit another slice, a weak one at that, that sat on on him to take mercilessly; but lucky for me, he failed yet again to take advantage of the sitting duck.

It was as if I never knew how to hit a backhand other than a slice.  I had not planned this; it was all my body and its will.   The very first time, at the start of the match, where I got the ball to my backhand it was just automatic-- and it stayed tuned in that mode, without any hesitation at any moment during the match, till the very last point.

Survival instinct at its best...