Last week, I had a conversation with a parent that perfectly captured one of the biggest misunderstandings in tennis coaching — the obsession with “technique.”

It started as a practical chat about scheduling and costs for lessons. But it quickly evolved into something far more revealing — a reflection on what coaching truly is, and what it definitely isn’t.

The “Technique” Trap

Like many parents, this one (let’s call him Alex) wanted the best for his child. He asked about private lessons, wondering if more one-to-one time with a coach would lead to faster improvement.

His reasoning made sense:

“In group lessons, they don’t get enough attention. If someone just fixed his technique, he’d improve quicker.”

It’s a fair assumption. But it’s also one of the most common — and misleading — beliefs in sport.

Because in tennis, there is no single correct technique to be fixed. There is only skill — and skill is always context-dependent.

Research in ecological dynamics (Davids, Button, & Bennett, 2008; Renshaw et al., 2019) shows that technique is not a universal blueprint that can be taught or copied. It’s a dynamic, adaptive response to the environment, the opponent, and the task in front of the player.

Players don’t execute pre-programmed movements; they coordinate actions in response to what they perceive.

Coaching as Guidance, Not Correction

This is where the difference between coaching and “instructing” becomes clear.

Traditional coaching tends to view the coach as the expert and the player as the performer — someone who must replicate what they are told. The ecological view challenges that.

From this perspective, the coach’s role isn’t to correct movement but to shape environments where useful movement solutions can emerge.

Or as Chow, Davids, and Hristovski (2011) explain, “Skill acquisition is a process of continuous adaptation between the performer and the environment.”

When I explained this to Alex, I said:

“Coaching isn’t about teaching a stroke — it’s about designing situations that help players discover better ones.”

If a child’s forehand isn’t consistent, I don’t stand behind them and repeat, “Elbow higher.”
I might instead change the width of the court, adjust the ball speed, or set a tactical constraint like “jam your opponent”or “find the open space.”

The player’s movement naturally adjusts to solve the problem — without explicit correction.

That’s skill emergence, not skill instruction.

Why One-to-One Lessons Often Miss the Point

Alex then asked if private lessons were still useful.

“Of course,” I said, “but it depends on what they’re for.”

One-to-one sessions can refine awareness and confidence, but if every ball is fed perfectly by a coach, the player learns a pattern that doesn’t exist in real tennis.

It’s the illusion of progress — smooth, clean, and completely unrepresentative.

In contrast, small-group or two-on-one sessions allow for natural variability. Players react to live information, not a coach’s controlled feed.

As Ranganathan, Newell, and Kostrubiec (2020) describe, skill develops through “repetition without repetition” — encountering similar problems in different ways, forcing the athlete to adapt rather than memorise.

That’s where true learning happens.

The Myth of the “Perfect Stroke”

Alex mentioned he’d been practising with his son at home — even removing the racket to focus on throwing and catching to improve the serve.

It’s a common idea, rooted in the “transfer of motor patterns” — the belief that movement skills learned in one task can be reused in another. But this assumption, too, is shaky.

Research by Davids et al. (2015) and Krause et al. (2019) highlights that skills don’t transfer as stored motor programs. What transfers is attunement to information — learning to detect and respond to cues in the environment.

Throwing can support perception and timing, but unless those cues exist in the tennis context — the ball toss, opponent position, spin, and so on — the transfer will be limited.

Or to put it simply:

“A tennis player doesn’t need to learn to throw. They need to learn to serve under information.”

That’s why I emphasised match play. Every rally, every decision, every mistake is an opportunity to calibrate actions against the game itself — not against abstract drills.

Redefining Progress

The parent’s final question was one that every coach hears:

“How do we know he’s improving?”

Progress in tennis is not measured by the prettiness of a forehand.
It’s measured by adaptability — how quickly a player perceives information, adjusts to new problems, and makes effective decisions under pressure.

That’s why, as Araújo and Davids (2011) explain, learning in sport should be understood as a process of functional adaptation, not mechanical repetition.

Some days, that progress looks messy.
Some days, it looks chaotic.
But that’s what learning looks like when it’s real.

The Bigger Picture: Coaching for Humans, Not Machines

When we talk about “technique,” we often mean control — the idea that the coach can (and should) dictate the correct form.

But humans aren’t machines.
They’re dynamic systems, influenced by their environment, emotions, and intentions.

The coach’s real skill lies in embracing that complexity — guiding, not dictating.

As I told Alex before we wrapped up:

“The best coaching doesn’t create perfect technique.
It creates adaptable players who can perform in imperfect situations.”

That’s the kind of coaching tennis needs — not more commands, but more curiosity.
Not more drills, but more problems to solve.
And not more “perfect strokes,” but more imperfect learners who can figure it out for themselves.

References

Araújo, D., & Davids, K. (2011). What exactly is acquired during skill acquisition? Journal of Consciousness Studies, 18(3–4), 7–23.

Chow, J. Y., Davids, K., & Hristovski, R. (2011). Nonlinear pedagogy: Learning design for self-organizing movement systems. British Journal of Educational Psychology, 81(2), 251–270.

Davids, K., Button, C., & Bennett, S. (2008). Dynamics of skill acquisition: A constraints-led approach. Human Kinetics.

Davids, K., Renshaw, I., & Araújo, D. (2015). Ecological dynamics and motor learning design in sport. Skill Acquisition in Sport, 3–22.

Krause, L., Farrow, D., Buszard, T., & Pinder, R. (2019). Application of representative learning design for assessment of common practice tasks in sport. Journal of Sports Sciences, 37(1), 1–10.

Ranganathan, R., Newell, K. M., & Kostrubiec, V. (2020). The problem of motor learning. Progress in Motor Control, 24, 27–45.

Renshaw, I., Davids, K., Newcombe, D., & Roberts, W. (2019). The constraints-led approach: Principles for sports coaching and practice design. Routledge.