The Power of Patience - Part Eight of The Mental Side of Pickleball

By David Pascolla

Most Points Are Lost to Impatience

Most recreational pickleball points aren’t lost because of skill—they’re lost because someone gets impatient.

Watch a few games at our Atascadero courts and it becomes obvious. A rally develops—dinks, resets, nothing to attack. Then someone speeds it up. Not because the shot is there, but because the wait starts to feel uncomfortable.

Impatience doesn’t feel wrong in the moment. It feels like the right ball to attack. It usually isn’t.

The Illusion of Progress

There’s an unspoken belief in recreational pickleball that improvement looks like hitting harder and finishing faster—speeding the ball up, driving more, attacking earlier in the rally. We tend to equate action with growth.

But better play often looks the opposite: patience, restraint. It can feel passive, but it isn’t. It’s active in a quieter way—built on awareness and emotional control, and the discipline to stay in a rally long enough for the right ball to show up.

That’s where a lot of us struggle.

In a recent game, I played with Mark Chandler, one of our club members, who suggested something simple just for fun. Here’s how it went: after the serve and return, the third shot had to be a drop into or around the kitchen, and from there it was all dinking.

It turned out to be more challenging than expected. It forced all four of us to slow down, reset, and actually build points instead of rushing them. Rallies got longer. Decisions got clearer. More than anything, it made patience unavoidable—and I loved that.

As a side note, if you tend to stay back at the baseline lobbing balls instead of joining your partner at the kitchen, this game is for you. It’s the perfect way to break that habit and master the transition to the net. Just sayin.

Speeding Up Too Soon

We’ve all done it. Three or four controlled shots. The rally is neutral, nothing’s open. Then suddenly, someone goes for it.

Not because it’s there—but because neutral feels uncomfortable. Long rallies create tension, and tension pushes us to decide early. We start looking for relief instead of waiting for advantage.

So we manufacture offense before it’s earned.

But high-percentage pickleball isn’t about forcing the first opening—it’s about recognizing the actual one. Patience is the ability to sit in that uncertainty without reacting to it.

Being Comfortable Being Boring

This might be the hardest part of patience: disciplined players are comfortable being boring. They are fine hitting five, ten, or more controlled shots in a row—crosscourt dinks, middle resets, and high-percentage balls that don’t look flashy or impressive. Maturity in this game looks less dramatic, but it is infinitely more effective.

This restraint is a form of quiet confidence. It’s the ability to wait for the right ball instead of just the first one—trusting that pressure builds over time and doesn’t need to be forced. While the impatient player tries to end the rally early to prove a point, the disciplined player simply lets it unfold.

And that mindset changes everything. When you stop rushing the narrative, your shot selection improves, your positioning stabilizes, and your unforced errors drop. By staying composed while your opponents get antsy, you gain an invisible edge. The longer the rally goes, the more the game slows down for you—and speeds up for them.

Ben Johns

Over the years, one of my favorite players to watch is Ben Johns. One of the top doubles players in the world, he’s a master of the “boring” game. He never rushes points, staying balanced and composed even in 40-shot rallies.

While others scramble or go for the highlight-reel winner, Johns hits neutral balls and lets the game come to him. He builds pressure patiently, waiting for even the smallest mistake—and when it shows up, he’s ready.

It’s a masterclass in winning through restraint rather than raw power or athleticism.

Beyond the Court

Patience in pickleball looks a lot like patience everywhere else. We rush things—points, conversations, decisions. We want the outcome before we’ve really earned it.

But most improvement doesn’t happen in big moments. It happens in the small, repeatable ones. The shots you don’t force. The balls you reset. The times you stay in the point a little longer than you want to.

In pickleball, that might be ten straight dinks. In life, it’s letting someone finish their thought before jumping in. Taking a breath before responding instead of reacting. Letting a tough moment pass instead of trying to force a quick fix.

It’s choosing not to fire off that text right away. Not interrupting. Not quitting something just because it got uncomfortable.

It’s simple, but not easy.

Patience isn’t sitting back—it’s choosing not to speed things up just because you’re uncomfortable. And more often than not, that’s what keeps you in control of the point—and everything else.