Writing at Wofford

by Quinn Bernthal

Great performances start with a game plan. Coaches tirelessly analyze film, organize tactical notes on clipboards, recite a few motivational words before a game, perhaps share a few choice words after a bad first half, all an effort to help a player or team execute under testing conditions. Sports reward those who are able to take in useful information, communicate clearly and execute quick adjustments. Having a plan is one strategy to maximize that ability. 

For me, the game plan began with a folded up piece of lined notebook paper covered with bold black Sharpie in barely legible lettering. 

Tennis has been a core aspect of my life for as long as I can remember. Today I play for my college team at Wofford. I got into tennis because my dad has been a lifelong tennis fanatic. He was also a law school professor and his persona bridges the gap between academia and the competitive spirit of sport. He encouraged me to invest in both my academic and athletic pursuits. My experience being a student athlete has allowed me to see how those two worlds connect, and how skills I’ve learned in the classroom have influenced the way I approach athletics. Academic writing skills have helped me identify how to organize my understanding of tactical plays, articulate with teammates and coaches and be receptive to feedback. 

I loved tennis from a young age, and I was lucky enough to have parents who were willing to drive eight hours through snowstorms to get to sectional tournaments and invest in tennis lessons even when at the age where all it culminated in was the experience of bumping a second serve into the court and throwing a fit when the point wouldn’t go my way. During these tournaments that, at age 12, probably should have been for the sole purpose of a cute Facebook photo, my dad instilled the quality of competitiveness and the advantage of having a plan. Before heading out to the court, we would go through three bullet points, clear objectives that I should focus on during my match. I’d slide the game plan paper into my giant tennis bag that engulfed my tiny twelve year old body. 

Today, I use the same technique I did as when I was a kid: three clear objectives, often fragmented bullet points before I head out to the courts.

Writing gives us the ability to articulate and refine our ideas. At first, the process is messy, much like first learning the mechanics of a serve – there’s too many moving pieces and it’s hard to see how they fit together. Over time, we begin to organize, synthesize and simplify those components into something useful. The same is true in sports. Being able to consolidate information into simplified, actionable cues distilling complex tactics and techniques is critical. Furthermore, good writing often involves frequent revisions and feedback. Similarly, the quality of being receptive to feedback and making small adjustments to optimize performance is essential in sports. 

Perhaps approaching a match is not so different from the structure of writing an essay. To truly understand something, I have to begin with looking at the bigger picture. I can ask myself, what big objectives do I need to execute on to be successful during this match? From there, I can break things down and see how each piece contributes to the whole. Finally, I can simplify my thoughts into clear language to serve as a cue for more complex ideas. In writing, we make a claim, test it with evidence and discuss why it matters. I can utilize the same strategy in a match. Start with a strategy, evaluate what’s working and analyze and reflect on how something went before transitioning to the next task. 

It’s worth noting that while having a plan is generally a good tactical approach, I do not argue that it is something that should be strictly enforced. Similar to how everyone has a different writing style and approach with how they structure their work, one’s approach to a match might vary significantly. Moments of spontaneity and deviation from a plan can be one of the most freeing and exciting aspects of sports– a moment when practice and creativity are revealed. In fact, when an athlete is performing at their best, they are often thinking minimally about a plan. Instead of being overly conscious about what they should be doing, they may find themselves in a state of flow simply reverting to the many hours that have shaped the muscle memory of swings, throws, footwork and plays. Writing out a loose plan can be advantageous in preparing for the unpredictable nature of competition and in reflecting afterward. But during the match, the player ultimately has the authority to decide whether to stick with or strike a line through their initial game plan.

Academic writing skills are more transferable to athletics than they might appear. Writing provides structure, promotes reflection, and strengthens communication by finding your authentic voice, all of which are transferable skills across disciplines. Writing allows an athlete to bring their attention to what is most helpful to perform and enables athletes to think through possibilities before they even walk onto the court. In this way, writing has supported my ability to make sense of complex information, communicate clearly during matches and reflect on my performance on court. 

So next time you’re getting ready for practice or a game, consider how your experience can connect with the principles you’ve learned in the classroom. Start with an outline. Draft a game plan. Revise as you go. Be perceptive of details that can become anecdotes to a winning story.