One of the things that I like to do in my free time is play tennis. It’s a great way to pry myself away from my everyday concerns, although I occasionally allow a stray thought about an unfinished article to creep into my mind during a critical second serve. It’s a wonder that I don’t double-fault more often.

I play nearly every weekend, often in adult league matches. I used to play in tournaments, but I got tired of having to play two matches in a day, sometimes with only a 30- or 45-minute break. Of course, if I lost the first match, I didn’t have to play a second one, which was never much of a consolation.

I also like to watch tennis, both in person and on television. During the Wimbledon championships this past summer, I bought an access pass to tennis coverage on the Internet. For $25, I was able to watch dozens of matches, both live and on demand. This included singles matches between top-seeded men and women, but also many of the men’s, women’s and mixed doubles matches, the juniors and seniors events, and even some of the wheelchair competition.

Levels of the game
If you’ve never seen world-class wheelchair tennis players in competition, you will be awe-struck at how skilled they are. They can cover the court with incredible speed and precision, anticipating where their opponent’s shots are going and spinning their chairs into position so they can whack the ball back into their opponent’s court, usually with heavy topspin both on the forehand and backhand. They can also serve with impressive spin and pace, despite the fact that they’re disadvantaged by their seated position and low angle of attack.

Imagine how difficult it would be to learn to play tennis in a wheelchair. Even if you were a fairly proficient, able-bodied player at one time, learning the adaptations to play in a wheelchair would be discouraging and, for many, overwhelming. And yet the four gentlemen that I watched in the men’s wheelchair doubles finals had made that transition.

It’s also important to note that these competitors were just that, competitive. Just because they were seated in wheelchairs didn’t mean that they were any less prone to screams of frustration and bouts of line-call questioning than their able-bodied counterparts. If John McEnroe had been a world-class wheelchair tennis player, I’m certain he would have been just as abusive and disrespectful to line judges and chair umpires.

Aim as high as you can
What I took away from watching these talented men is that we all have untapped capabilities. If I had the desire, I could be a much better tennis player or writer or father or husband or, well, you get the picture. And you could certainly do the same, extending yourselves, for example, to become more committed school transportation professionals.

Do you really have all the knowledge you need to manage your staff with maximum efficiency? Or do your drivers have all the training they need to operate their vehicles with maximum safety? Do your technicians know everything they need to know to get the most out of your fleet?

I watched the wheelchair doubles final again recently because it inspires me to be a better tennis player and, perhaps, a better person. It’s so easy to become satisfied with the way things are that we need a reminder that it can be better. I guess we all find inspiration in different ways, don’t we? The key is just finding it.