Peace of Mind Helps Abrams Find Success

Geoff Abrams, the boy with the 120-m.p.h. serve and the businesslike demeanor, says he doesn’t care to reveal his inner self.

This from a kid who admits he’s currently writing a short story--just for fun--about a poor, unhappy mother who, hoping to cash in on insurance, hires an assassin to rub out her child.

Go ahead, psychologists, analyze all you wish. Abrams doesn’t care. The Newport Harbor freshman is at peace with his psyche. He has Teflon-coated confidence; self-assurance runs through his veins. You couldn’t put a dent in his demeanor if you tried.

You might have heard rumors about Abrams’ abilities. How he doesn’t so much serve and volley as serve, record an ace, and serve again. How tennis balls scream for mercy every time they see Abrams’ powerful 6-foot-5 frame heading their way. How, despite his height, he has more moves than the Super Mario Bros.

Part of that is true, of course. You don’t win a national 14-and-under tennis title or become the second youngest player to be named to the USTA national team by sashaying onto the court and announcing your existence. You don’t win the Sea View League individual title or go 27-3 overall solely by knowing how to tie your shoes.

But Abrams is more than capable; he’s confident, very much so. And that, more than anything else, might be the No. 1 reason for his success.

Ask Abrams about his long-range goals and he’ll tell you: He wants to be the best player in the world. Today, though, he’ll settle for getting through the Southern Section round of 16 and quarterfinals at the SeaCliff Country Club in Huntington Beach.

You need only to listen to Abrams for a few moments before you start to wonder who you’re talking to. Is this a 15-year-old boy--or a youthful-looking CEO? Is he truly this poised and composed--or is this just an act? Though he says he prefers mellow music--James Taylor, Chicago and the like--you wonder what a blast of Anthrax would do to his teen-age soul.

You can go on wondering, though, because Abrams says he doesn’t give a thought to what others think. Let others grumble about whether they feel he’s getting more publicity than he deserves or whether he’s more hype than substance. Abrams doesn’t care. He knows how hard he works. He knows what his goals are. He knows his accomplishments speak for themselves.

“Geoff is strong-headed and self-directed,” his father, Gil Abrams, says. “That’s half of his success story right there.”

The other half involves getting up at 6 a.m. to run on the beach, working with three tennis instructors to tune up various parts of his game, keeping pace with a fitness trainer, adhering to a low-fat, no-sugar diet, playing tennis two hours a day, seven days a week and going to sleep by 9 every night. That, and getting straight A’s.

Abrams’ parents say they never pushed him. Geoff--who through elementary school also competed in baseball, basketball, swimming and soccer--was a go-getter from the get-go, an achiever. Of course, his mother adds, it wasn’t as if Geoff was abnormal. As a baby, he sat on the beach and ate sand like any other kid.

Abrams was asked what, besides tennis, he might like to try as a career. His answer was matter-of-fact.

“Basketball,” he said.

Gil Abrams looked at his son, who stopped playing basketball in sixth grade.

“Geoff, I think she’s asking you about a career. . . “

“I’m talking about a career,” Geoff said.

Brash? Well, a little, although maybe it’s healthy self-esteem.

If Abrams is perceived as arrogant, perhaps he’s just misunderstood. After all, this is the same boy who--within earshot of his mother, Nancy--mentioned he was writing a just-for-fun story about a murderous mom. (Nancy paled instantly, by the way). This is also the kid who refused to give a reporter the names or phone numbers of his closest friends because he didn’t feel comfortable about what they might say about him.

“I don’t like to reveal myself that much,” Abrams said. “I don’t let too many people in.”

He’d rather just go about his business.