In the Trenches: The Day I Realized Tennis Was Never About Tennis

In the Trenches: The Day I Realized Tennis Was Never About Tennis

By Susan Nardi

I didn't realize it at the time, but the lesson that would eventually change how I viewed tennis began with my mother.

My mom was an emergency room nurse and later an industrial nurse. Like so many caregivers, she spent her life taking care of everyone else. When my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer, she became his primary caregiver while continuing to work and support our family.

The stress eventually caught up with her.

She suffered a massive heart attack.

Doctors were not optimistic. The damage to her heart was extensive. Yet she lived another eight years. Looking back, it wasn't simply medical care that sustained her during those years.

It was connection.

Friends visited. Family rallied around her. People checked in. She remained engaged with others and continued to have purpose in her life. A

t the time, I didn't fully appreciate the role those relationships played in her recovery and quality of life. Today, I do. 

Because after nearly four decades as a coach, facility operator, player developer, and program builder, I have come to a realization that has fundamentally changed the way I view our industry.

Tennis was never really about tennis.

It was always about connection.

For years, I thought the greatest gift our sport provided was exercise.

Then I thought it was competition.

Then I thought it was player development.

Today, I believe all three are secondary to something far more important. 

Connection.

The more I look back on my career, the more I realize that the players who stayed involved in our sport were not always the most talented.

They were the most connected.

The adults who showed up week after week were not always chasing improvement.

They were chasing belonging.

The seniors who filled our morning courts were not simply exercising.

They were maintaining friendships.

The lesson was hiding in plain sight.

People weren't returning because of their forehand.

They were returning because someone was waiting for them.

Over the years, I have watched tennis and pickleball courts become gathering places for people navigating some of life's most difficult moments.

I've seen widows find new friendships.

I've seen retirees rediscover purpose.

I've seen adults recovering from illness rebuild confidence.

I've seen people navigating grief, divorce, career transitions, and personal challenges find a community they didn't know they needed.

The sport provided the introduction.

The relationships provided the healing. 

Recently, I had the opportunity to speak with Dr. Sachin Jain, CEO of SCAN Health Plan, on the Reframe podcast. During our conversation, we discussed one of the most significant public health challenges facing America today: loneliness.

Not loneliness as an emotion.

Loneliness as a health risk. The U.S. Surgeon General has called social isolation an epidemic. Researchers have linked chronic loneliness to increased risks of heart disease, stroke, depression, anxiety, cognitive decline, and premature death.

Think about that for a moment.

One of the greatest threats to health in America isn't a virus.

It isn't obesity.

It isn't smoking.

It's disconnection. That realization brought me back to something I had already observed on courts for decades. 

The solution to many of society's challenges may not always begin in a doctor's office.

Sometimes it begins on a tennis court.

Several years ago, I came across a Forbes article titled "Loneliness in America: Why We Need More Tennis Courts."

The title stopped me in my tracks.

Not because it was talking about tennis.

Because it was talking about loneliness.

At first glance, tennis courts and public health seem like completely different conversations. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized they were deeply connected.

The article reinforced something I had witnessed throughout my coaching career but had never fully articulated.

Tennis courts are more than recreational spaces.

They are social infrastructure.

They create opportunities for human connection in a world where genuine connection is becoming increasingly rare.

The court is one of the few places left where people of different ages, backgrounds, professions, and life experiences regularly come together face-to-face. They communicate. They problem-solve. They laugh. They encourage one another. Most importantly, they build relationships. 

In a society where more interactions happen through screens than across kitchen tables, that matters.

The article helped crystallize a thought that had been forming in my mind for years. Perhaps the greatest value of tennis isn't the exercise, the competition, or even the skill development.

Perhaps its greatest value is its ability to create belonging.

That realization became one of the inspirations behind HEAL-ACTS Foundation— Helping Ease Adult Loneliness through Adults Connecting Through Sports.

The mission wasn't born from a business plan.

It was born from observation.

It was born from watching lives change through connection.

It was born from understanding that the opposite of loneliness is not simply being around people.

The opposite of loneliness is belonging. 

The more I have explored this issue, the more convinced I have become that racquet sports are uniquely positioned to address one of society's fastest-growing public health challenges.

Nowhere has that become more apparent than through adaptive sports.

As Program Director for ACEing Autism at The Help Group, I have had the privilege of watching children and young adults on the autism spectrum experience something that extends far beyond learning a forehand or backhand.

Many people assume adaptive tennis is about teaching tennis skills.

It's not.

It's about creating opportunities for connection.

It's about helping participants feel included.

It's about building confidence through shared experiences.

It's about creating a place where every participant belongs.

The same lesson appears whether I'm working with children on the autism spectrum, adults in beginner programs, seniors in community clinics, or players in social pickleball groups.

The common denominator isn't competition.

It's connection. 

And perhaps nowhere is that lesson more visible than in wheelchair tennis.

Throughout my coaching career, I have welcomed wheelchair athletes into adult classes and community programs. What makes tennis unique is that one of the sport's greatest strengths is its ability to bring people together regardless of physical ability.

A wheelchair athlete and an able-bodied athlete can share the same court, play the same game, and compete together. Few sports offer that opportunity.

I've watched players stop seeing a wheelchair and start seeing a competitor, a doubles partner, a teammate, and ultimately a friend. 

The connection becomes stronger than the difference.

The same thing happens in adaptive tennis programs, autism programs, beginner clinics, senior mixers, and community pickleball sessions.

The court becomes a place where labels disappear.

People stop being defined by age, ability, occupation, diagnosis, or circumstance.

They simply become players. 

Connection Is the New Competition

For decades, our industry has focused on competition.

How many tournaments?

How many rankings?

How many championships?

How many scholarships?

Those accomplishments matter. They always will.

But I believe we are entering a new era in racquet sports.

Connection is becoming just as important as competition.

In some cases, it may be more important.

The loneliness epidemic is forcing us to rethink what success looks like. Healthcare leaders, municipalities, educators, and community organizations are increasingly recognizing that human connection is not a luxury—it is essential to physical, mental, and emotional well-being.

And that is where racquet sports have an opportunity unlike any other activity.

Every day on our courts, we create environments where people interact face-to-face. They communicate. They collaborate. They encourage one another. They share victories, frustrations, laughter, and stories.

These are not simply athletic experiences. 

They are human experiences.

As healthcare systems search for solutions to loneliness, as communities seek ways to bring people together, and as individuals search for places where they belong, racquet sports are uniquely positioned to help.

An aging population is looking for meaningful ways to stay active and socially engaged.

Healthcare organizations are recognizing that social connection is a critical component of wellness.

Municipalities are seeking community-based solutions that improve quality of life.

The need exists.

The courts already exist.

The question is whether our industry is ready to see itself differently.

For decades, we have measured success by the champions we develop.

Perhaps it is time to measure success by the communities we create. 

Maybe tennis was never about tennis.

Maybe it was always about people.

The forehands, backhands, rankings, tournaments, and trophies are simply the excuse that brings us together.

The real value has always been the relationships built along the way.

If the loneliness epidemic is one of the defining challenges of our time, perhaps racquet sports can become part of the solution.

And if that is true, then the future of our industry may be far greater than producing champions.

It may be producing healthier communities, stronger relationships, and a deeper sense of belonging.

Because in the years ahead, connection may become the most important competition we ever win.

#ConnectionisMedicine