Saintly Pro Joe Dinoffer hits two milestones this year. He turns 60, and his tennis training tools company, On Court Off Court, turns 20. That's a pretty big deal, those two decades, when you think of what a niche market he's operating in.
Joe Dinoffer, made a saint for all the times he's had to say, "racquet back." Photo, Joe Dinoffer. Halo conferred by Amy Eddings.
Flip through a catalog or click through On Court Off Court's website, and you'll find the tools in a typical tennis pro's teaching arsenal: brightly colored cones, flat plastic targets, ball machines and big foam tennis balls.
But there are also gadgets like the Forehand Fixer, the Billie Jean King Eye Coach, the Contact Doctor and the enigmatic Arm Pocket Developer, which sounds like a sewing notion. It's not. It's an arm band that helps correct for big backswings.
We're still trying to get tennis players to embrace the use of training aids more like golfers do
"These things all definitely help, there's no question about it," said Dinoffer in a recent telephone interview with me. "I think, intrinsically with tennis, there are people who would use training aids more -- and some do use them -- but there haven't been companies promoting training aids. One of the reasons is, the numbers are small enough that companies that come up with one or two ideas cannot sell enough of them to stay in business."
That hasn't been a problem with Dinoffer, who started delving into the science of learning out of a desire to help his students improve more quickly. "We've got a little over 200 proprietary products that I designed," Dinoffer said. Some are simply modifications for teaching carts and ball baskets, but others clearly involved thinking out of the box, or, in this case, the court.
The opening salvo in the War On Cones: Joe Dinoffer's Ropezone, which creates target hitting zones. Photo, On Court Off Court.His first product was Ropezone, a set of four, brightly-colored flat ropes that clip onto the net and are used to create target areas. Dinoffer said Ropezone not only helps players develop directional hitting, it builds confidence.
"When I started my company, I jokingly called it Join The War On Cones," he said. Why the Cone Hate?
Tennis pros walk on court, typically, with a mind set that they're getting paid to find what's wrong
"If you aim for a cone that's 60 or 80 feet away, and you hit it, it's just pure luck. People fail 95 percent of the time or more," he said. That leads to Tennis Hate. Haters, we know where that can lead us: straight off the court and onto the couch. Dinoffer said target zones are more forgiving than cones, they can be adjusted to a player's skills and abilities and they offer higher chances for success.
"Tennis pros walk on court, typically, with a mind set that they're getting paid to find what's wrong. Consequently, that's what they'll do. They'll see you, Amy, hitting a forehand [editor's note: I'm cringing here, which tells me he's on to something] and feel like, 'Wow, the more I notice what you're doing wrong, the more I can tell you what you're doing wrong, the better job I'm doing.' But that's going to backfire on the student.
"I came up with the theory that a 70 percent to 30 percent success to failure ratio was a reasonable thing to help people feel good about themselves and their experience." What Joe's offering through his products -- the funky Arm Pocket Developers, the ropes, the straps, even the little buzzing electronic shoe inserts designed to cattle-prod you onto your toes -- is encouragement and confidence. Hey, I can do this, too. I think I'll stick with this sport.
A tennis training aid, a Hannibal Lector restraint device, or a goalie mask? You decide. Photo courtesy Square Hit Tennis.It takes a lot of balls, though -- and I don't mean the fuzzy, yellow kind -- to show up at your club and strap on your Flex Trainer. I bought a Wrist Assist (check out the photo, left) after seeing coaching great Brad Gilbert shill for it on Tennis Channel, and it quickly moved from my wrist to the trunk of my car. I was too embarrassed to wear it.
Even gadget-less training efforts can draw stares from others. I once tried replicating a Bryan Brothers kick serve drill, one that involves serving from the baseline on your knees, to force you to hit up on the ball. Two guys on the next court stopped to watch. "Is that something you learned from watching Tennis Channel?" one jerk quipped.
I persisted for a few more serves, my cheeks bright red, every ball flopping into the net. I got up a few minutes later and tried to look nonchalent as I picked out green grains of Har-True that were embedded in my knees. Ouch. In more ways than one.
Saintly Pro Joe Dinoffer was sympathetic. "We're still trying to get tennis players to embrace the use of training aids more like golfers do," he said. "People swing golf clubs in their backyards more freely to practice than people will swing their tennis racquet. It could be that to play golf is a serious decision in that it takes half a day and it costs more money. I guess it motivates golfers to practice a little more. Tennis, perhaps, is taken a little more casually."
Well. I'm not a casual type of gal, Haters. I've put a lot of effort into trying to improve, and it often feels like it's been to my detriment. That Wrist Assist I threw out cost me $59, and I used it maybe 5 times before I let shame deter me. These things don't work anyway, I fumed.
I wonder if Joe Dinoffer offers an Attitude Adjustor?
That Wrist Assist, by the way? Joe says his Angle Doctor gets the job done for about half the price, something he hints at in this instructional video.