From Tour to Teaching: How Dana Mathewson Relearned the Game as a Coach
When Dana Mathewson once called retirement “an athlete’s first death,” she wasn’t talking about a loss of love for tennis. She was simply referring to the end of a lifestyle. The constant travel. The grind. The singular focus on her own performance.
What came next wasn’t a revival of passion, because that passion never left. It was a reframing.
Now retired from professional wheelchair tennis and an emerging coach, Mathewson has found herself back on court in a different role, one that asks her to slow down instincts built over decades and translate them into language others can use.
“I always loved tennis,” Mathewson says. “Training, competing, the strategy, the cat-and-mouse aspect of it. What I fell out of love with was the lifestyle.” Coaching keeps her close to the game without the wear of the tour. And while she still feels the occasional tug to compete again, those urges fade as she leans into a new challenge: tailoring the game to someone else.
From Instinct to Instruction
As a player, Mathewson moved largely by feel. As a coach, she’s had to unpack that intuition.
“The hardest part has been knowing what ‘language’ to speak with each player,” she explains. Some athletes need visuals. Others respond to metaphor, or to film, or to direct explanation. What works for one can fall flat for another.
For coaches, the takeaway is simple but demanding: learning styles matter. The job isn’t just teaching technique – it’s figuring out what makes a player tick, then adapting accordingly. “I try to check in often and read the room,” Mathewson says. “I’m not perfect at it, but that awareness is part of the work.”
Movement, Memory and the Wheelchair Game
Wheelchair tennis presents unique challenges that able-bodied coaches may not immediately recognize. One of the most counterintuitive is anticipation. Wheelchair players often have to turn their backs to the court during a point, something that goes against every visual instinct.
The key, Mathewson says, is naming that discomfort and committing to repetition. “Turning away from the thing you need to respond to feels wrong. But drills and repetition build familiarity. Eventually it becomes muscle memory.”
When it comes to movement training, she points coaches toward spider drills or hub drills, simple setups that mirror able-bodied patterns while emphasizing the critical difference: how a player turns the chair to create diagonal angles. These drills are easy to find and easy to teach, but the technical detail is where progress happens.
What Coaches Should – and Shouldn’t – Own
One area Mathewson is careful not to oversimplify is chair setup. For coaches new to adaptive tennis, she cautions against assuming responsibility for fit.
“Chair setup is incredibly bespoke,” she says. While experienced coaches may eventually spot instability or sizing issues, early on the better move is to know the resources. Manufacturers and specialists can handle fittings, sometimes even over video. Coaches support the process by connecting players to the right experts, not by guessing.
Science, Stubbornness and the Mental Game
Mathewson holds a doctorate in audiology, and that scientific training shows up in her coaching. She looks for the “why” behind performance issues, enjoys problem-solving and tends to thrive with high-performance players seeking fine-tuned adjustments.
She’s also known for grit. Can that bulldog toughness be taught?
“Not from nothing,” she says. “But if you see glimpses of it, you can grow it like any skill.” Most serious players have some tenacity; the coach’s role is learning how to channel it productively.
That balance, support and push, was modeled early for her by her mother, who introduced her to tennis at 13 despite her doubts. Fear was acknowledged, not dismissed, but it wasn’t allowed to dictate the outcome. “She made me feel safe, but still challenged me,” Mathewson says. That taught me that good things can come from uncomfortable situations.” It’s a lesson she believes modern coaches should carry forward.
Setting a Standard for Wheelchair Tennis
Wheelchair tennis in the U.S. can still feel like a novelty at the club level. Mathewson believes normalization starts with exposure and everyday treatment.
“Coaches need to treat players with disabilities the same way they treat able-bodied players,” she says. Over time, that consistency removes the “special” label and invites participation. She encourages clubs to let able-bodied players try wheelchair tennis themselves. Sitting in a chair changes perspective fast, and builds appreciation.
Other countries have shown what visibility can do, she notes, pointing to the post-London 2012 shift in the UK. With LA 2028 on the horizon, she’s hopeful the U.S. will follow.
For Mathewson, coaching isn’t a second act away from tennis. It’s another way deeper into it, one built on curiosity, adaptation and the belief that the game is better when more people feel they belong on court
