My story
Fifteen years coaching on the Challenger tour.
I know who's tired, who hates the clay, and who's already packed for the next town. That's the whole job, and I've been doing it for fifteen years.
I grew up between Boston and Galway, hitting balls against a handball wall until the wall gave up. I was a decent junior and a very average pro — good enough to know exactly how good the good ones are.
Then I coached. Fifteen years on the Challenger tour, living out of a racket bag: Monday qualifying in one country, Sunday final in another. You learn the tour from the inside. Who sleeps badly. Who plays a different game on clay. Who walks on court already thinking about next week's flight.
That's why I tip. The price on a Tuesday first-round match is built mostly on rankings. Rankings don't know a guy played three three-setters in four days, or that he's never won a match on this surface, or that he's defending a pile of points and playing scared.
What I will and won't do: match-winner bets only. Two picks an email at most, and plenty of emails with none. I won't back a heavy favourite that pays next to nothing, and I won't touch a match I haven't looked at properly. Coach's honour.