I didn't want to use anything as a crutch and ever have excuses heading into a match.

In high school, some of the guys were really into music. When I first joined the team as a sophomore, I was blown away when we came out for our first home match—I'm getting goose bumps just thinking about it. The seniors would bring their whole stereo system. We started by yelling and stuff inside this little room just off the gym; then the coaches said, "Ready. Go!" We threw open the door and came running out. Even when I hear the songs now I get all jacked up.

I have adrenaline going and then focus on what I have to do and do it well. I know we'll have a good chance to win the match that way. I don't concern myself with the other team.

When I was on the U.S. men's indoor team, I was on the road 200 days of the year and sometimes in the worst conditions. We didn't have the food or luxuries we wanted. We didn't have a laundry service. So every night after the match, I soaped up my uniform in the shower. I learned to rely on outside things as little as possible, whether it was music or massage. I just got out of the habit of relying on outside things.

It was really an exciting time trying to find my way from being a boy to becoming a man—being toe to toe and eye to eye with grown men, even though I was only 11 or 12.

I had four different colors of hats, one of which was pink. I just got on a roll with the pink hat. So what started out as a superstition grew into a tradition and an easy way for my family to find me at tournaments because I am the only one with cojones big enough to wear a pink hat.

Practice like it's competition and compete like it's another day on the practice court.