Last Sunday, I headed out east to the not-so-crowded streets of Sayville, NY, hoping to solidify a tennis game in transition. The summer, amazingly, is almost over, so I hoped to put what I’ve learned this year to use in one of my final outdoor matches.

What have I learned this year? A lot – but I’m definitely still in the learning process.

To start, I learned how crucial the ball toss is during the serve. Historically, my serve has been all over the map, but I developed some consistency with it after watching the United States/France Davis Cup tie earlier this year. My press seat was right alongside the baseline, and after noticing how far Andy Roddick and Michael Llodra – two of the best servers in the sport – toss the ball in front of them, I figured that I should do the same. It’s led to more power and precision.

I’ve also learned that you need to practise both your forehand and backhand equally. The backhand tends to be the sexier shot of the two (more on that in a minute) and because of that players seem to practise it more. I did the same and, while my backhand has become more dependable, my forehand has suffered. It hasn’t developed into the automatic shot that I need it to be.

I learned something else about my backhand as well. Because of watching countless Roger Federer and Richard Gasquet matches, I’ve tried to hit a one-handed backhand. The results have been erratic. Sometimes, the ball explodes off my racquet with the depth and power that I crave. But more often, the shot lacks punch and the ball resides in a popular destination point – the bottom of the net.

Soon I realised that I have to be more consistent on the backhand side to win matches. That’s why I’ve decided to stick with a two-handed backhand, which I’ve always hit forcefully, accurately and, most importantly, with ease. Nothing goes through my head when I hit a two-hander. When I try to hit a one-hander, it’s as if I’m calculating the co-tangent of something.

With all this in mind, I headed into the match eager to show my stuff. Ninety minutes later, I walked off the court dejected and frustrated. For every ace I struck, I served three double faults. I continued to push sitter forehands into the net. And, while I did hit my two-handed backhand well, it was the lone highlight of the match. There were plenty of lowlights: Poor play, audible curses, tossed racquet and immature reactions to errors. All told, it was an uncharacteristic and unacceptable performance.

Two days later, I headed to the West Side Tennis Club to watch the Tier IV Forest Hills Classic. Played just a week prior to the US Open, this 16-player tournament doesn’t draw the WTA’s biggest names, but the history of the facility makes the event special nonetheless (Forest Hills is a former home of the US Open).

The Stadium Court in Forest Hills is a mixture of new and old. It was recently resurfaced to match the composition and colour of the courts at Flushing Meadows, but it is encapsulated by a tennis relic, reminding visitors of its past. The modern court is surrounded by a crescent of well-worn bench seats, which look like they haven't been occupied for decades. There are no visual obstructions, such as advertising or luxury suites, which makes the contrast sharp and unmistakable.

The unique design of the arena also makes for some unusual circumstances on court. When a ball is hit, the acoustics reminded me of an out-of-tune gong - if there is such a thing. And if it's windy, playing conditions become very difficult. The gusts bottle up inside the stadium, playing havoc with the ball.

Many of the players I saw on Tuesday found this out first-hand. After a rash of errors, many of the women became quite frustrated. Their negativity persisted even when the wind calmed down. I saw Petra Cetkovska yell at her coach, only to have him reply, “I am not player!” He walked off the court before the end of her straight-sets defeat.

In Elena Vesnina’s match against Iveta Benesova, Vesnina wasn’t playing well early on. Her smiles turned into looks of disbelief, and she tossed her racquet to the ground for good measure. I remembered doing the same thing just days earlier in Sayville. Unsurprisingly, Vesnina would lose the match, just as I did.

Benesova was no saint, either. After a string of mistakes, she pounded the ball into the pavement and flung her towel aside when she sat down in between games. When the ball kid retrieved it, she quickly buried her face inside. No one was immune to frustration on this day.

After seeing all of this, I couldn't help but think back to my own childish tantrums on court. Is anyone immune to fits of rage? I don't think so.  From amateurs to professionals, everyone gets frustrated while playing. That's fine for one match – letting off some steam might even be the best medicine. But what defines you as a player is how you handle the same situation in your next match. Benesova recovered to reach the semi-finals. I hope to rebound the next time I take the court.