Tennis players – Diehards, or just Desperate

Although I am not a great tennis player, I love to play. It’s good exercise for someone competitive and social. I’ve told my coaches over the years,” What I lack in talent, I make up for in stamina.” And, of course, add to that good sportsmanship, a good sense of humor, and no delusions about my skill level.

As proof of my diehard spirit, my friend and I were on the court at Waitsburg High School playing this Sunday in gale-force winds. The leaves and debris whirling around us were dizzying, but we persevered. My partner and I met on the courts with our racquets, balls, sunglasses, and our brooms. We’re not the Witches of Eastern Washington, but we needed to sweep the courts to spread around the remnant puddles from Saturday night’s rain to lessen the water hazards. I’m the clumsy one, so the fewer hazards, the better.

At times the wind was so strong, I thought for sure we might wind up in Kansas! The balls were twisting in the air and caught up in the gusts. Even though we tried hard not to aim for the puddles, there were many water landings.

In tennis, as in all sports, there are some fundamentals of what makes a “good shot.” First is space; there needs to be sufficient space between you and the ball to assure you have full range to swing and achieve pace, direction with a good follow-through to get spin on the ball. Finding the right space while the ball is flying through gusts of wind is nearly impossible. You track the ball to the right; it flies to the left, then up, then lands dead because it hit a headwind. Fundamental number one, not working.

Another fundamental is to hit the ball out front, be aggressive, make early contact. If you hit late, chances are the ball will not go in any direction other than the one you intended. Good luck on that one! This time the ball seemed to stop dead from the headwind as I nearly tripped, running towards it. It would fly past me other times, accelerated by the wind before I could think of running forward.

At first, I tried to be clever and figure out which direction the wind was blowing, like that would really improve my game (ha). I turned around and noticed leaves piled up about three feet high against the fence in the western corner of the court. Aha! Maybe I can plan somewhat of a strategy! That, of course, was futile. I was deluded into thinking I had the skills to strategize using one pile of leaves. But I tried to use whatever strategic skills I had to keep the balls from landing in the remaining puddles.

The weather is turning, and as it gets colder and wetter, our chances for a local game of tennis on Sunday mornings are less possible. So, we play in adverse conditions and excellent conditions, desperate to play as much as possible before the snow falls, and we are sidelined until spring. We are the diehards! When spring does come, we will be back! Ready to play even though a little older and slower. We are determined to get back on the court, not wiser but deserving of fun and some good exercise.

As I sit here, and the wind blows, I know tennis is probably over until spring. Deserving or not, the only tennis balls I’ll be playing with are the ones I throw to Mugsy. Slumber well, my well-used tennis racquet until next spring!