Alberto Cei

The culture of work should allow the coach to go beyond conventional actions, avoiding being trapped in habitual mindsets that often lead to passively accepting training principles and their applications. Instead, one must question their own beliefs and remain open-minded to new solutions.

Coaching is not just about teaching a technique or tactic, and for the player, it’s not just about learning—even if what must be learned is complex and its execution requires a high level of mastery. Coaching and training mean using one’s cognitive, emotional, and motor intelligence to teach and learn how to understand and execute what needs to be done in order to achieve performance levels that aim to optimize match performance.

To plan a training program focused on improving athletic performance, it’s essential that the player and coach—and the team as a whole—share the objectives to be achieved through the intended training.

As already explained, in sports, performance refers to the motor behavior produced in response to a task that can be measured, whereas skill refers to the competence required to deliver a performance at a given level.
To improve performance, training must aim to develop within the team the idea of “thinking while moving,” which means always having a guiding idea behind each game action.
This approach can be applied in a basic way for beginners, or in a technically more refined and targeted manner as experience grows.

There is no game action without thought, so learning or training means moving with a mental representation of what one intends to do.

(Source: Alberto Cei, Palla al centro, Bologna: Il Mulino)

In these days of chaos for the Italian national football team, the main commentators have blamed the defeat against Norway, in the World Cup qualifying match, on the poor technical level of the players, while the coach Luciano Spalletti himself expressed regret at not having been able to do his job to the best of his ability.

I do not want to question these explanations, nor those that blame the FIGC and its president.

What I would like to know, instead, is what was done beforehand to build a united team, aware of the difficulties and the tasks that awaited them.

We all know—or at least we all should know—that if a team lacks great individual talent and a well-oiled playing style, it should not give up, but rather be ready to fight for every inch of the pitch, with players ready to step in when a teammate is about to face trouble. In essence, regardless of everything else, never give up an inch. Be tenacious, which means continuing to do what you’ve been doing, even after you’ve done it.

With this in mind, I wonder how the days leading up to the match were spent, how these issues were addressed in training and technical meetings—or whether, as I have often seen happen, only technical-tactical matters were discussed, detached from the human factor. It’s too easy to claim that the available players were just not good enough—what does that even help?

It’s easy to say they didn’t show pride in wearing the Azzurri shirt—but how were they supposed to develop that pride, when they don’t even play for Italian clubs because they’re overlooked in favor of any foreign player, and have grown up under agents more focused on inflating their fees than anything else? Of course, everyone should develop a sense of belonging—which, after all, is one of our fundamental human needs—but who was supposed to teach them that?

Unfortunately, these themes are of no interest—so let them go on finding a new scapegoat each time.

There is much talk about tennis, but too often, beyond general psychological explanations, there is little illustration of what seem to be the sport’s key characteristics.

Sport of Opposition

Tennis is an individual opposition sport, where the goal is to dominate the opponent through your own game. It’s not just about hitting correct or winning shots, but about imposing a strategy, reading the opponent’s, and constantly adapting to what happens on court. The match unfolds as a continuous mental duel, where every point is a psychological battle.

Undefined Duration and Mental Endurance

One of tennis’s most distinctive traits is its unpredictable match duration. Unlike other timed sports, a match can last from under an hour to over five hours, depending on the score and balance of play. This demands long-term management of physical and especially mental fatigue. The player must pace their energy, maintain focus, and stay mentally sharp even after hours of intense play.

Error Management

Tennis involves a high number of errors, even at the professional level. Unforced errors, double faults, backhands into the net—they’re all part of the game. The ability to accept mistakes without emotional collapse, and instead react constructively, is a core mental skill. The best players are not those who avoid errors, but those who recover quickly and keep playing with clarity.

Between-Point Routines and Self-Reflection

The game is marked by frequent short pauses between points. If not handled properly, these breaks can become opportunities for distraction or overthinking. That’s why professional players develop personal routines between points: toweling off, adjusting clothes, breathing deeply, thinking about tactics. These help to maintain focus, regulate emotions, and prepare for the next point.

Self-Talk and Encouragement

Tennis demands active internal dialogue. Players speak to themselves during the match to encourage, concentrate, or adjust. Phrases like “come on,” “play deep,” or “stay with it” help to regulate attention and motivation. This kind of self-awareness can be decisive during pressure moments or mental slumps.

Tactical Thinking and Mental Flexibility

Every opponent has a different style, and each match unfolds in unpredictable ways. Tennis requires constant adaptation, both technically and mentally. Changing pace, trying new solutions, reading the opponent’s intentions—these all rely on a flexible and responsive mind.

Competitive Isolation

During a match, coaching is limited. The player is essentially alone with themselves. They can’t rely on a team to help during a rough patch. This calls for emotional and decision-making autonomy, and the ability to be one’s own coach in real time.

Regarding anxiety management and, more generally, emotional self-regulation in sports, I was reminded of athletes I’ve worked with over the years who have achieved great success.
Margherita Zalaffi, the first and only athlete to date to have won Olympic medals in both foil and épée; Alessandra Sensini, the most successful athlete in the history of Italian sailing; Giovanni Pellielo, the strongest trap shooter in the world; Daniele Scarpa, Olympic gold medalist in canoeing; and Andrea Minguzzi, Olympic gold medalist in Greco-Roman wrestling.

Their greatest psychological strength was the absolute determination to reach the goal they had set for themselves. At the same time, they were well aware that it would be very difficult and that failure was a real possibility. They went through intense moments of discouragement, fearing what might happen if they didn’t win—but they persevered.

Incidentally, questionnaires used to assess grit and tenacity often include terms that reflect an extreme or absolute desire to achieve one’s goals. Therefore, it’s no surprise that top athletes exhibit this same mindset.

I am convinced that it is precisely this mental approach to training and performance that creates that small final edge—perhaps just 1%—which separates those who make it to the podium from those who fall just short, and the serial winners from those who shine only once.

Many athletes do not have this mindset in their sporting and competitive lives, and it is likely this very absence that prevents them from achieving the goals they dream of.