The ball touches the net cord and drops. A pair already feels its lead slipping away. One bounce becomes the explanation for the whole afternoon.
The Wheel of Fortune gives that story a wider frame. Racket heads and golden nodes form a vast rotating mechanism; figures climb, ride and fall around its rim. Sun and moon occupy the upper corners while the court below looks small. No figure owns the place it occupies for a while.
A match contains choices, preparation, responses from four people and margins nobody can command. Treating every change as luck erases the work you can do. Treating a streak as proof that you have become untouchable makes its end feel like a personal humiliation. Both stories ask the moment to carry more than it can.
The wheel's figures do not all occupy the same place at once. The player in a fortunate run and the player trying to recover from it are meeting the same shifting game from different angles. Remembering that can soften triumph without diminishing it, and keep a difficult spell from becoming a prophecy about the next season.
Enjoy the run of points while it is happening. When it turns, you can still call to your partner, choose the next ball and attend to the opponents in front of you. A good decision offers chance somewhere to land; it cannot require chance to stay. This is harder when the scoreboard makes every turn feel consequential. You may want a ritual to keep the run alive or a scapegoat when it ends. The Wheel allows neither superstition nor resignation to take the racket from your hands.
Before the next serve, can you let a change of fortune be a change of fortune rather than a verdict?