It’s 3:21 in the afternoon on a sunny day at the 2012 U.S. Open, and Bret Waltz is in motion with a frantic urgency. “Gotta recharge my phone!” he yells while rushing out of the players’ fitness center. It’s no joke. Waltz without his charged cell is like Federer without his topspin—serviceable but diminished. Within minutes on any given day, his presence may be required for a warm-up, practice session, strategy confab, meal, workout or competition. Since match times other than the first ones of each day are fluid, all he can do is guess his schedule and hope.
“It’s exhausting, but fun and rewarding,” says the 33-year-old Waltz, a Strength & Conditioning Specialist headquartered at the USTA Tennis Center in Flushing, NY. During last year’s Open, Waltz was primarily responsible for the fitness needs of three Americans—Melanie Oudin, Ryan Harrison and Christina McHale.
“And I was also available for any American player who requested my services,” he says. Such established pros as John Isner, the Williams sisters and Mardy Fish have their own trainers. But if those trainers are not available for whatever reason, Waltz fills in.
Waltz warmed up McHale and Oudin before they practiced on the first Monday of the Open. Performed at the fitness center in the structure that houses Arthur Ashe Stadium, the warm-up entailed dynamic stretching, movement maneuvers, shoulder exercises with a stretch cord, and reaction and footwork drills with cones.
“What we do depends on how much time we have,” Waltz says. “I can tell from players’ movements in warm-up whether they’re nervous. Moving too quickly means they’re anxious. At some tournaments players aren’t focused. But at Grand Slams, they’re totally locked in.”
As he worked with a player, Waltz was mindful of his other responsibilities that day. When Melanie took a moment to relax, he checked his phone messages. Ryan Harrison and his younger brother Christian received a wild card entry into the doubles tournament, and would be playing fourth-seeded Mariusz Fyrstenberg and Marcin Matkowski of Poland on Tuesday. They’d need warm-ups, practice sessions and meetings with Waltz and their coaches.
“But it was nothing compared to the previous week when we had the qualifying tournament and endless warm-ups and fitness sessions with American players,” Waltz says. “When the Open started, there was less focus on fitness because it was such a demanding event, with hot days and best-of-five-set singles matches for the men.”
While Waltz did no coaching, he was on the court for the practice sessions because they affected how he would train the players. “I’m with the coaches all the time,” he says. “We work as a team, with the goal of improving the players in every way possible. On court, a coach will tell me, ‘She has to work on lateral speed,’ or ‘She’s not strong enough hitting an overhead.’ So I’ll know exactly what to work on in the gym. I tailor workouts for each player based on what the coaches say they need to improve.”
Such intensity makes for close relationships, and Waltz needs to know how much he can push a player. “You need to know what your players respond to and what they don’t respond to,” he says. “They have mood swings, which is understandable in this competitive profession. When they win, there’s relief and less stress. They could be drained from the match but they’re happy. When they lose, their mood depends on how they performed. If they played badly, they’re down. If they felt they played well but just weren’t the better player, then it’s OK.”