Throughout My Formal Education I Spent Many,

Racism Is Not An Excuse To Not Do The Best You Can.

I Have Always Drawn Strength From Being Close To Home.

There Were Times When I Asked Myself Whether I Was Being Principled Or Simply A Coward.... I Was Wrapped In The Cocoon Of Tennis Early In Life, Mainly By Blacks Like My Most Powerful Mentor, Dr. Robert Walter Johnson Of Lynchburg, Virginia. They Insisted That I Be Unfailingly Polite On The Court, Unfalteringly Calm And Detached, So That Whites Could Never Accuse Me Of Meanness. I Learned Well. I Look At Photographs Of The Skinny, Frail, Little Black Boy That I Was In The Early 1950s, And I See That I Was My Tennis Racquet And My Tennis Racquet Was Me. It Was My Rod And My Staff.

I Have Become Convinced That We Blacks Spend Too Much Time On The Playing Field And Too Little Time In Libraries.

I'm Learning To Use Others' Weaknesses. I Don't Hammer A Man's Soft Spot Constantly, Because He May Strengthen It. I Just Save It As A Trump Up My Sleeve For Moments When I Really Need A Point.