The Return of Dominance

May 3rd

Today, I Got a Piece of My Dominance Back

There are days you train. Days you play. Days you show up and just move through it because that’s what the process demands. And then—there are days like today. Days where you don’t just play… you take over. Where something primal cracks open inside you and you remember exactly who you are, exactly how it feels to press the gas and never let up.

I didn’t overthink today. I didn’t babysit my form or ponder too long on choices. I moved. I swung. I created. I shaped. I didn’t ask permission. I didn’t wait to see how the game would unfold. I made the game unfold.

And it felt damn good.

“I Just Played”

I played with someone to my right—Emerson. Talented. Raw. A little unconventional in coverage, but wired like me. After a few games of dancing around rhythm, I finally asked him: “You not gonna cover middle?” His reply? “I like to play right.”

Cool. Say less.

From that point on, I made the shift. I wasn’t going to wait for him to cover. I was going to cover. I was going to play my game. And I did.

Corner work? On point. Drop shots crosscourt from the left? Laced. Creating space from the right? Smooth. Dinking patterns? Stupid effective. Reach balls? Automatic. I was attacking middle with authority, and anytime something floated—my paddle was there to end it.

And yes, I brought out The Lob Tour. That soft, disrespectful little touch that says, “Come on, chase this.” One came back just how I wanted—set me up to step in and drop a little death ball over the net. Pure satisfaction.

The Paddle That Let Me Be Me

I’ve been messing with the Engage paddle again, and it’s waking something up in me. There’s a sharpness in my hands with it—more sure-footedness. I’m not overthinking. It’s light, fast, and I’m letting my instincts roll. My only gripe? I wish the handle was a touch shorter. But outside of that, I’m in love.

It’s letting me be precise without needing perfection. It’s giving me room to play my style—aggressive when I want, calm when I choose.

And today, I stayed in it. I didn’t switch back to the familiar paddle. I stuck it out. That meant something. That disciplineto ride with what you chose.

The Hidden Wins

We lost a few. Won a few. I think we played seven games total. Doesn’t really matter.

What matters? I moved.

There were points where I could’ve let the game slow down. Where I could’ve defaulted to passive resets or played it safe. But I didn’t. I stayed on the gas. I let the ball come back if it had to—but I didn’t flinch. That’s something I’ve been refining: understanding that sometimes the point will go five more balls. That doesn’t mean reset. That means own each shot. Stay present.

Dink with intent.
Drop and move through it.
Speed up and commit to it.

And most importantly—don’t bail on your posture. If I’m already in a forward-moving stance, if I’ve already committed to dominance, why would I pull the plug?

The Partner That Brings the Storm

Emerson’s the type of player I’d train with in rain, sleet, snow, or heatwave. He brings that edge. That pressure. That sense of “we’re here to compete.” There’s no fluff in our rhythm. Even when it gets grimy, we just run it back. The ball gets faster. The game gets realer. And I love that.

It reminds me of what I need: environment, tempo, accountability. I don’t need a cheerleader. I need someone who’ll force me to dig into the game and see what’s still there. And today, I saw it.

Refinement in Real Time

This wasn’t a training day where I needed a win to validate the work. This was a proof day. A feedback loop day. A force-through-the-wall day.

From the reach balls to the lob setup, from the left-side footwork to the right-side creation, from stacked confusion to stacked dominance—I stayed in it.

My drops had follow-through.
My speed-ups had consequence.
My paddle felt like an extension of my body.

And that’s rare. But not accidental.

Final Notes: The Gas Stayed On

If I could chart it—my assertiveness, my rhythm, my dominance—it’d be a sharp incline today. I didn’t drift into the game. I took it. I didn’t need perfect posture or textbook strategy. I needed presence, decision, and pressure.

That’s the version of me I love. The dominant version of Brett who doesn’t just play—he imposes. Who can move when the game calls for it. Who knows how to adapt, when to dig, when to fire, when to float.

This wasn’t just a good day. This was a signal.

I’m still here. And I’m still coming.

Quote to Carry:

“You don’t get dominance back by waiting for it. You take it back with every swing, every move, every decision you own in the fire.”