In Tennis, Love Means Nothing

I’ve often wondered if it would be possible to even return a tennis pro’s serve. Apparently this guy can, but winning a point is another matter:

It isn’t the speed of Tripp’s groundstrokes that impresses me; it isn’t his pace or serve. It’s his consistency. He places the ball where-even if I get to it-I’m so compromised that my legs are jelly and-if I do manage to return it-the ball just lilts over the net. He makes no errors. None.