Every four years, the Princeton Tennis teams are treated to the Marx Tour, an endowed trip in which up to eight varsity men and eight varsity women travel abroad with their coaches to experience the culture of European cities and to compete in international tennis events.

A large shark was chasing me through the water carrying a giant tennis racquet trying to smash me over the head with it. Suddenly, it caught up and swung... Then I woke up. Sigh. It was just a dream. I looked at the clock. 8am. My match was at 10. I had won yesterday but it didn't matter unless I put together one more stunning performance. Yes, this next one would be my Picasso. There was only one thing I had to do before I stepped onto the court:

Turn pro! [Note: Brosens is a member of the Princeton Class of 2010] I got everyone's attention together to inform the tournament about my decision. This was the prize-money round and amateurs cannot accept monetary prizes that extend beyond their expenses. Amateur status. A thing of the past. Fifteen minutes after orating and crying and spilling my heart out to the French crowd, I realized not one single person understood me. Then I spotted Michael Lin. But he didn't understand me either. He was busy smiling, devouring a pizza. No matter. I'd show them...

Two hours of gut wrenching battle later I had perished, 7-6, 6-3. I had played my best and left it all out there. There was nothing to be ashamed about. The tears flowed like rain during a thunderstorm.

It is easy to play with the thought, "You know this doesn't really matter," or "Whatever, I'd prefer to be at the beach." But I have to say, when you stop smiling and pretending like you don't care, and you put yourself out there fully exposed, a loss does hurt. But, after the pain subsides, there is literally no better feeling than the pride which remains and lasts years after your beach tan has faded.