Taking Weekend Tennis Seriously

For the last two years, I usually am the teammate that volunteers to organize the post season team get-together.  I say usually because I am going to stop ever, ever, ever, ever organizing such terrible things as of today.  Yesterday’s get-together was my last one.  Organizing such things is not fun.  People suck.  And I usually end up hating at least half, if not more than half, of my teammates because of the process.

Never, ever, ever again.

I’m really good at being organized and hunting people down.  Scratch that.  I’m really good at being organized and am willing to hunt people down.  Spreadsheets, whoo!  Filling in previously blank fields, WHOO!  When I organize my teams’ get-togethers, my goal is to have the most people attending at the venue most popular with the team.  Do you see that?  Do you see what my problem is?  Do you see how those are two separate decisions that have to be made by each player?  I am a hopeful idiot.

Getting people to respond via email or text without sending a follow-up email or text is hard enough.  Getting people to respond at least twice is flat out stupidity cubed.  And, of course, it’s not like each decision requires only one response.  This year for each of the three teams I’ve been on, I’ve had to ask the teams to get back to me about their availabilities on another set of dates after the first ones didn’t work out.

I strive for 100% attendance.  I’ve had yet to attain that mythical fantasy.  People suck.  I’m a fool.  Here are the excuses I’ve had:

• Flat out forgot on the day of the get-together after I had emailed a reminder message the morning of.  As they teach you in communication workshops or sit down meetings with your higher-ups, clearly, I was the stupid one here because I didn’t communicate in all the different ways and text everyone the same message the morning of – really, I should have sent carrier pigeons – nor did I send out any reminders in the intervening two weeks between the event date and when I had set the date.  Because, you know, grown-ups just don’t know how to write things down or put it in their smart phones or however it is they’ve gone through their entire adult lives knowing when things are set to happen.  Because, you know, functioning, mature human beings can’t possibly be bothered to remember their own blasted schedule.
• Food poisoning/stomachache the day before and didn’t feel like eating (after I had changed the original party date partly because of her after she had finally responded to me.  Of course, she would ultimately get food poisoning and miss the party.)
• Decided to captain a team in a tournament scheduled for the weekend of our get-together after I had already set the date (I think I found out when she asked me to play on the team.  That was a delightful conversation.)
• Another teammate played in the same tournament, but my favorite part was when she tried to recruit one of our teammates for the tourney (who said no because she already had a prior engagement)
• Needed to board her dogs smack-dab in the middle of our six hour shin-dig
• Opened a store front in another state
• Needed to be with said person who was opening the store front in another state
• Volunteered at the US Open (2nd year in a row she couldn’t attend; the first time was when she captained a team.  This act is getting old.)
• Her brother just adopted a baby and was with his family during this joyous time
• After initially signing off on the date, never got back to me about anything else
• Opted to be at an out-of-town bridal shower for one of her good friends after our party’s date was set
• Had to work on a Saturday afternoon
• Dropped out less than 24 hours before the event. No explanation. “Hell hath no fury…”
• Planned a family trip out of town for the weekend of our party but then cancelled those plans because relatives came into town.  Clearly, those out-of-town plans were set in stone there.  Still couldn’t possibly make our shebang, of course.

And those are the memorable ones.  Let’s not forget the curt “Oh, sorry, I can’t now” emails I get the week of the event.  You know I don’t.

No, I don’t understand.  Do I seem like a rational person to you?  Well, except for the adoption one.  The adoption one is pretty cool, and I listed it because of its coolness.  And I can somewhat – but not totally – understand the people that are out of state or out of town.  We haven’t figured out teleportation, yet.  Otherwise, no.  I really don’t.  I already had to hunt you down for your responses, and then you dropped out suddenly?  If you wanted to get out of something, you would get out of it.  You know, kinda like how you got out of our already planned party.  If you had cared, you would have thought ahead.  If you wanted to be at our get-together, you would be at our get-together.  It’s very simple.

And if you really felt bad about not being present or about having signed up to bring a dish to our potluck party and now not being able to fulfill your responsibility, you would do something to make it up.  But you don’t.  And you don’t.

I already don’t understand when people drop out of previously planned tennis matches – and don’t freaking get a sub when it’s a doubles match and it affects more than one person, but that’s another blog post for another day, and believe you and me, that blog post will probably be coming shortly – and I especially don’t get it when you drop out of an event that’s been planned for like ever.  For like ever, people.  In my head for like ever.

I’m never putting myself through this organizational he– ever again.  I’m naïve.  People suck.  And they’re not good at tennis, either.

You wanna play singles over this?  I’m in a great mood to play singles over this.

Editor’s Note (there is no editor): I wrote this post in about an hour earlier this week in a fit of rage as people started abandoning ship for yesterday’s party.  I never write anything in an hour.  I’m somewhat in a better mood now, and a month from now, I’ll probably be right back to my hopeful, naïve organizational ways (actually, I think I’m just going to pick a date the captain can attend and say deal with it to everyone else…maybe.  Probably not.  Pray for me).  Yesterday’s party was all kinds of awesome, thanks for asking, but I’m still posting this because how can I possibly not let the world have this gift of a post to enjoy?  World, you are welcome.