Taking Weekend Tennis Seriously

Pre-post digression: The office suite I work in is getting new carpets. Right now. During the weekday. While we’re all working. After coming in and checking my email for any work that needed immediate attention, I attempt my normal trudge to the kitchen, which is near the office suite entrance (I don’t go through the office suite’s front doors to get to my room) down the hall from my room only to find that I am blocked by the men tearing apart the carpets. Never fear. My room is by the back door. I walk out of the back of my room, out of the office suite, past the building restrooms and the elevators, and through the office suite’s front doors. Oh, what do you know? The kitchen is being renovated as well.

I thought I would be enjoying soup to go along with my busy work – I can’t function at work without eating first – but with the microwave unplugged and probably heavy, my hopes are dashed. What can I eat now?! Thinking quickly, I go for my jar of peanut butter and my sandwich bread. Drat, I’ve been keeping the sandwich bread in the freezer. So, I pick up the also unplugged toaster, a plastic spoon, a plastic knife, and paper plates. The plumber working in the kitchen looks on befuddled. Absolutely befuddled.

Back in my room, I plug in the toaster and set it next to my phone and printer, and all is well with the world. Except for the scent of carpet paste (a co-worker describes it as the smell of dead whales). And the tens of boxes they moved off the carpet and into my room.  And the AC guy also coming in today and setting up shop in my room.  And the carpet guys now blocking the entire hallway.  The items I need for work are in the other room…that I can’t get to.

Today is going to be a good day.

On to the actual blog post.

Team tennis is fun, isn’t it? So much fun. You don’t take weekend tennis seriously if you don’t play team tennis. The camaraderie. The eating out together. The inter-squabbles that aren’t actually voiced to the involved parties. So much fun.

Like families, all tennis teams are dysfunctional. Every single one of them. There is always someone who’s not happy. Someone who’s mad at the captain for her lack of playing time. Someone who disagrees with the captain about the lineup. Someone who’s wondering why that other person gets to play when she’s the better player. Someone who’s upset with her doubles partner for sucking. And why, Captain, did you put me with her?! It’s your fault for us losing that line. There’s always someone. Maybe five someones. On the same team. Thinking these thoughts.

This weekend is the USTA Tri-Level tournament for my city (Tri-Level – each team throws out three differently rated doubles lines for each head-to-head match.). Two weekends ago was USTA Fall Play-Offs. I watched the play-off tournament, and I’m participating(!) in Tri-Level. Oh, the angst of a team tennis tournament. The storylines between teams and within teams. The differing viewpoints from each side of the net of the same match (players can’t even agree on where a ball landed for goodness’s sakes). The glory. The disappointment. I love it. I love everything about it.

So much goes on behind the scenes of a team tennis tournament, and the world has no idea. Team tennis is a big deal, ya’ll. The intense lineup discussions in the war room (located usually on the patio of a restaurant or in the cafeteria of the tennis facility that’s housing the tournament). The scrutiny of the enemy’s past lineups in order to conclude who they will throw out for the impending battle (“So-and-so lost this morning, but her team won. Do you think her captain won’t play her for the finals because she lost?”). The making of opposing players out to be larger than life (Someone throws out the opinion that so-and-so has gotten a lot better and a Greek chorus of mm-hmms quickly follows).

And the internal agonizing within captains. I will never be a captain of a tennis team. I can’t even handle the emotional toll of party planning. Reason #23 on why I would never be captain: Why would I willingly take on a position in which half my team will hate me by the end of the season?

Captains – some of them – are constantly conflicted between playing their best players and letting everyone play. And if the team doesn’t win, whatever philosophy the captain went with was wrong. Only one team wins at the end of a season. All the other captains were wrong.  And you’ll find a player or two on the victorious team who thinks her captain was wrong.

Some captains rule with iron fists. Others will allow their players to have a say (and talk them into a lineup they didn’t originally plan on playing). What to do? How to captain? Decisions, decisions. Then the captains reluctantly turn in the lineups, and they can only look on helplessly from that moment on. It’s up to their head cases, invalids, and not-ready-for-prime-time players to carry the day…the captains perhaps among those players going to battle. Another reason to blame the captains for the loss, should it happen.

The actual matches start. The nail-biting begins. The begging. The second-guessing. The best part about watching team tennis is wishing you were playing. When your team is losing, you always think to yourself that you would have been the difference maker had you played. You would have played better than the players you’re rooting for. But you aren’t playing. You’re safe on the sidelines. Helpless. Smug.

The second best part of watching team tennis is experiencing the emotional roller coaster of an intense 3 set match in which your team comes back victorious. Every ball flight is watched closely. Every point is met with the anticipation of a jury verdict. Rapturous cheering followed by pangs of heartache followed by praying. Exhilarating!

If your team wins, everything is groovy. Everyone is happy. Unless you, individually, lost. Or you didn’t play enough. The team winning is nice and all but not at the expense of your play time. You know I’m right.

If your team loses…welp, bummer. But, hey, you won your match(es). Your team lost, but you won. That’s what’s important here.

These are the various emotions that will be felt this weekend. Actual thoughts inside people’s heads. Real feelings they won’t voice out loud. Or, maybe they will.  Oh, they totally will. And then we go through all of this again in a few months, if not the very next weekend.

I. love. it.