Seems like most of the kids today are into other sports other

When Jana Novotná reflected, “Seems like most of the kids today are into other sports other than tennis,” she was not lamenting with bitterness, but speaking with the sorrowful honesty of one who had given her life to a game and seen its glow fade in the eyes of the young. Her words remind us that every age has its shifting passions, that what once drew the hearts of children may in time be overshadowed by newer games, louder spectacles, or changing fashions. They are the words of a champion who knew the beauty of her sport, yet recognized that beauty alone is not always enough to capture the restless spirit of youth.

The origin of this quote lies in Novotná’s journey as a Czech tennis star, known for her elegant serve-and-volley style and her emotional triumph at Wimbledon in 1998. Tennis had been her world, her discipline, her art. Yet as years passed, she observed that children were turning more toward football, basketball, and other fast-paced sports. Her words were not a condemnation of those pursuits, but a reflection of a cultural truth: that each generation’s interests are shaped by the winds of time, by what is celebrated, televised, and made accessible.

This pattern is ancient. In Greece, the pankration once thrilled crowds as a brutal test of strength, but in later centuries, it waned in favor of other contests. In Rome, chariot racing held the people’s hearts more than the discipline of wrestling or the beauty of the discus throw. History shows that the games which dominate one generation may lose their throne to the next. Novotná’s lament echoes this eternal rhythm of cultural change: the passions of the people shift, and no single sport can claim the hearts of youth forever.

Yet within her words lies a quiet warning: when youth lose touch with a discipline, a thread of culture risks being broken. Tennis, for Novotná, was not only a game but a school of patience, strategy, and grace. She feared that if children turned away, they might lose not only the skills of the racket, but also the lessons it teaches about resilience, solitude, and artistry on the court. For tennis is unique: unlike team games, it demands self-reliance, courage in solitude, and the strength to rise again after every point lost.

Still, her statement should not be read only as sorrow, but as a call to renewal. If children are drawn to other sports, then those who love tennis must find ways to make it alive again, to pass on its stories, its heroes, and its beauty. The solution is not to scorn the new passions of youth, but to show them why this old game still matters. Just as teachers keep alive the works of Homer or Shakespeare in a world flooded with new voices, so must the lovers of tennis keep alive its legacy.

The lesson for us is this: do not despair when the world’s passions shift, but work to preserve what is good and true. Every generation must decide what to carry forward, and it is the duty of those who cherish a tradition to reveal its value anew. If your craft, your art, or your sport seems neglected by the young, do not abandon it—become its ambassador. Share its joys, teach its lessons, and live its beauty so that others may see in it what you have seen.

So let us hear Novotná’s words with wisdom: “Seems like most of the kids today are into other sports other than tennis.” Let them not only echo as lament, but stir us to action. For the fate of every discipline rests in the hands of those who love it enough to pass it on. Whether in sport, in art, or in life itself, do not allow treasures to be forgotten. Instead, kindle them anew, so that even in changing times, the flame of what is noble and true continues to burn.