Finding Your Game: Tennis, Music, Competition, and Everything In Between

By Steve Motyka | Founder, Kingdom Keys Elevation LLC

Tennis has been part of my life for a long time. I started playing competitively when I was younger, played junior USTA tournaments, and played #1 singles at Downingtown East High School. I came close to making States during those years, and like a lot of competitive players, at that point I was mostly concerned about my own matches, improving, and trying to win. I certainly wasn't thinking that years later I would be teaching tennis, running programs, managing adult teams, directing tournaments, working with juniors and adults, and eventually starting my own company. But that's where tennis ended up taking me. Kingdom Keys Elevation is a newer chapter of that story, but the ideas behind it aren't really new at all. A lot of them come from things I've picked up over years of playing, teaching, competing, working in education, dealing with different personalities, running programs, and frankly making plenty of mistakes along the way. One of the biggest things I've learned is that there isn't one correct way to be a tennis player.

I'm Not Trying to Make Everybody Play the Same

Obviously, fundamentals matter. If your footwork is causing problems, we have to work on it. If your technique is breaking down, we'll address it. Court positioning, preparation, balance, shot selection and strategy all matter. But I've never been a big believer in changing something just because it doesn't look exactly like the way somebody thinks it is "supposed" to look. I've worked with too many different types of players to believe that. Some players want to crush the forehand and control the point. Some people will happily stand on the baseline all day and make you hit another ball. Some players have great hands and naturally understand doubles. Some players love coming to the net. Others want absolutely nothing to do with it when they first start. And sometimes the person with the prettiest-looking strokes isn't the person winning the match. When I work with somebody, I want to know what they already do well. I want to know what actually hurts them in matches. I want to know what kind of player they are trying to become. Then we work from there. I'm not interested in rebuilding somebody's entire game just so I can say I changed it. If something works, there should be a reason to mess with it. At the same time, I'm also not going to tell somebody everything looks great when it doesn't. If something is holding you back, we're going to work on it. The balance is figuring out what needs to change and what simply needs to become better.

Music Actually Has a Lot to Do With How I Look at This

Anyone who knows me personally knows I love music, especially rock and metal. Give me loud guitars and I'm usually pretty happy. What I like about music, though, is that the best artists don't all sound the same. They couldn't. If everybody played the same guitar, sang the same way, used the same sound and wrote the same songs, music would be incredibly boring. The fundamentals are still there. Great musicians spend years learning their instruments and developing their craft. But eventually they take those fundamentals and do something of their own with them. I think tennis works the same way. You have to learn how to hit the ball. You have to learn movement, positioning and strategy. You need repetition. But at some point, your tennis should start looking like your tennis. Maybe your forehand becomes your biggest weapon. Maybe you're ridiculously consistent. Maybe you're great at the net. Maybe you have an annoying slice that drives opponents crazy. Maybe you aren't overpowering anyone, but you're smart and figure out how to expose weaknesses. That's part of what makes tennis interesting. You can put two good players on a court who approach the sport completely differently and see who figures it out.

And Then There's Whitney Houston

Here's where I'll throw people a curveball. For as much as I love rock and metal, I also consider Whitney Houston's “Greatest Love of All” one of the best songs ever made. Period. It's obviously an incredible performance, but what I've always liked is the message behind it. There are themes in that song about young people, learning, dignity, self-belief and realizing your own worth that have always stood out to me. And considering my background in both education and coaching, that hits home. I have Social Studies and Special Education backgrounds in addition to my years in the racquets industry, and one thing teaching and coaching have both reinforced for me is that you can give someone every tool imaginable, but eventually they have to start believing they can actually use those tools. That's definitely true in tennis. I've watched players who had the ability to compete at a higher level but didn't believe they belonged there yet. You can sometimes almost see the moment somebody starts realizing, Wait a minute. I can play with these people. Then everything changes. They move differently. They stop being afraid of the ball. They make decisions instead of hoping their opponent misses. They become willing to go after something. As a coach, you can't manufacture confidence out of thin air, and I'm not interested in giving people fake confidence either. Confidence should come from preparation and experience. But you can put players in situations where they learn what they're capable of doing. That's especially important with juniors. Of course I want a junior to leave my program with a better forehand, serve or volley. But I'd also like them to become a little more independent, learn how to deal with frustration, understand competition, communicate, solve problems and gain confidence. Twenty years from now, they probably aren't going to care whether they won a random practice tiebreaker. Some of the other things they learn through sports might stick around a lot longer. That's one reason the message behind “Greatest Love of All” has always meant something to me. And yes, I'll still probably go right back to rock music afterward.

Practice Should Have a Point

One thing I don't like is doing drills just to do drills. If we're hitting crosscourt forehands for fifteen minutes, I want there to be a reason for it. Where does that ball show up in a match? What are we trying to accomplish? What are you looking for before changing direction? Where should you recover? Sometimes we absolutely need repetition. There are times when you need to hit the same shot over and over again until something starts becoming natural. Other times, I want to keep score. I want to see what happens when suddenly the ball matters. You learn a lot about somebody once you say, "Okay, first to seven." The shot they were hitting perfectly five minutes ago suddenly looks a little different. That's tennis. Hitting a great forehand at 0-0 during a lesson is one thing. Hitting it at 4-4, 30-30 when you really don't want to miss is another. That's why I like incorporating competition and match situations into instruction. Eventually, you have to learn how your game holds up when there's some pressure attached to it.

Sometimes the Player Has to Figure It Out

I also don't want somebody looking over at me every thirty seconds waiting for an answer. One of the great things about tennis is that it forces you to solve problems. You might have a game plan before a match and realize five minutes in that it isn't going to work. Now what? Maybe your opponent is better from the baseline than you expected. Maybe they hate high balls. Maybe they're crushing your second serve. Maybe they're cheating toward one side. Maybe the person across the net is simply having a great day. You have to notice these things. If I tell a player exactly what to do every single time something happens, I'm not really preparing that person to compete independently. I'd rather ask questions sometimes. What did you see? Why do you think that happened? What could you do differently? What is your opponent doing to you? Eventually, I want the player answering those questions before I even ask them. That's progress.

Losing Is Part of This Too

I hate losing. There. That's probably more accurate than pretending losses are wonderful learning adventures. I don't enjoy them. But I've played enough competitive tennis to know they're unavoidable. Sometimes you play badly. Sometimes you make terrible decisions. Sometimes you choke. Sometimes you run into somebody who is just better than you. Sometimes you play well and lose anyway. Then you have a choice. You can complain about it forever, or you can figure out what happened. Those aren't mutually exclusive, by the way. You can be annoyed first. But eventually you have to look at the match. Was it technical? Tactical? Mental? Physical? Did you get impatient? Did you abandon what was working? Did your opponent expose something that needs improvement? Or did you actually play a pretty good match and somebody else simply played better? There's a difference. Losing can give you useful information if you're willing to look at it.

Get Outside Once in a While

Another thing people who know me know is that I love being outside. And I absolutely love the beach, particularly Cape May. For me, there's something about getting near the ocean that resets things. Tennis, work, schedules, phones, emails and everything else can become pretty consuming. Then you get outside, get near the water and remember the world is quite a bit bigger than whatever irritated you three hours earlier. Tennis players need that reset button too. You are going to miss stupid shots. You are going to get bad calls. You are going to double fault. You might blow a lead. You might play a horrible game. But the next point doesn't care. That's one of the simplest and hardest things to learn about tennis. The previous point is over. If there's something useful to take from it, take it. Otherwise, leave it behind and play. I wish I could say I've personally mastered that every time I've competed. I haven't. Maybe that's why I believe in it so much.

Tennis Is Supposed to Be Fun Too

Sometimes competitive sports get so obsessed with development, ratings, rankings and results that we forget something pretty basic. We're choosing to do this. Tennis should be something that adds to your life. That doesn't mean you shouldn't take competition seriously. I certainly do. But some of my favorite parts of tennis have nothing to do with trophies. It's the friendships. It's being part of teams. It's the group texts. It's talking trash with somebody you know before a match and then going out and competing. It's grabbing food afterward. It's playing outdoors on a great summer evening. It's watching someone improve. It's seeing somebody who was nervous about joining a team suddenly become part of the group. I've managed and worked with a lot of adult players over the years, across a wide range of levels, and the community side of tennis is a huge part of why adults stay involved. That's something I want KKE to continue building. Kingdom Keys Elevation isn't supposed to be just a place where you book an hour, hit tennis balls and leave. I want clinics. I want teams. I want tournaments. I want leagues. I want juniors developing together. I want adults competing together. I want pickleball events. I want social events. I want people meeting each other. I want some personality involved.

Passion. Purpose. Potential.

Those three words are attached to Kingdom Keys Elevation for a reason. Passion. Purpose. Potential. Passion is what gets you interested. Purpose gives you somewhere to go with it. Potential is what you're trying to discover along the way. I don't think potential means everybody is going to become an elite tennis player. That's unrealistic, and that's not the point. Reaching your potential could mean making your high school team. It could mean moving from 3.0 to 3.5. It could mean becoming a strong 4.0 or 4.5 player. It could mean learning how to serve when you've never played tennis before. It could mean finally beating somebody you've lost to six times. It could mean getting healthier and finding something competitive that you enjoy. It could mean a junior discovering confidence they didn't have before. Everybody's version is different. That connects right back to why a song like “Greatest Love of All” sticks with me. At some point, development becomes more than waiting for another person to tell you you're good enough. You have to start discovering that for yourself.

I Want Players to Eventually Need Me Less

This might be a strange thing for a tennis professional to say, but one sign that I've done my job well is that a player becomes less dependent on me. They start seeing things. They recognize the short ball before I say anything. They know where to recover. They realize their opponent doesn't like something. They stop asking me whether every decision was right or wrong. They understand their own game. Obviously, coaching continues. There is always something to improve. But ownership matters. I want somebody to understand why they're doing something instead of memorizing instructions. That's how you build a player instead of simply teaching strokes.

There's No Single Destination

Not everybody coming through KKE is going to want the same thing. Good. I don't want them to. Some people are going to be highly competitive. Some are going to play tournaments. Some want USTA or UTR competition. Some want teams. Some want lessons. Some want clinics. Some want exercise. Some want the social side. Some juniors may become serious tournament players. Others might fall in love with playing on their school team. There's room for different goals. My responsibility is to understand what somebody is actually trying to accomplish and then help create a realistic path toward it. That is a lot more useful than assuming everyone has the same destination.

Keep Trying Stuff

This might be one of the simplest things I believe. Try things. Play someone better than you. Enter the tournament. Try singles. Try doubles. Come to the net. Hit the shot you've been afraid to hit. Take the lesson. Change your strategy. Join the team. If something isn't working, figure out why. I've always liked exploring outside tennis too. I like being outdoors, going to the beach, finding different places, listening to music, meeting people and experiencing things that break up the routine. I think some of that mentality belongs on the tennis court. You don't have to know exactly what kind of player you're going to become before you start. That's part of the fun. You find out.

Build a Game That Actually Belongs to You

If there's one idea I'd want someone to take away from all of this, it's probably that. Learn the fundamentals. Take instruction seriously. Practice. Compete. Listen to people who know what they're talking about. But don't spend your entire tennis life trying to become a copy of somebody else. Build something that belongs to you. That's what makes great music interesting too. I love rock and metal because there is personality in it. There is energy. There is attitude. There is something recognizable about the artists and bands you really connect with. And then you can have someone like Whitney Houston walk up to a microphone and do something completely different—and absolutely blow you away. Different sound. Same idea. It's authentic. That's what I want from players. And frankly, that's what I'm trying to build with Kingdom Keys Elevation too.

We're Just Getting Started

KKE is still young. The company started in 2026, but the experience behind it didn't. The long-term vision includes junior development, adult programming, clinics, leagues, teams, tournaments, pickleball, education and events across the Philadelphia suburbs. Some of it will evolve. Some ideas will work. Some will need to change. New opportunities will come along that I haven't even thought of yet. I'm okay with that. That's part of building something. I don't expect Kingdom Keys Elevation to look exactly the same five years from now as it does today. I hope it doesn't. I want it to grow. I want the people involved with it to grow too. So if you're a junior picking up a racquet for the first time, an adult returning after twenty years, somebody trying to move up a level, a tournament player looking for competition, or somebody who simply loves being around the sport, you're welcome here. We'll work. We'll compete. We'll probably laugh. We'll definitely make mistakes. We'll learn from them. And hopefully we'll have a pretty good time along the way. Turn the music up. Get outside. Go to the beach once in a while. Compete hard. Don't be afraid to lose. Don't be afraid to change. Believe in what you're capable of, but be willing to work for it. And most importantly, don't spend all your time trying to play somebody else's game. Find yours. Then let's see what you can do with it. Passion. Purpose. Potential. Kingdom Keys Elevation LLC.

Racquets. Competition. Development. Community.