Taking Weekend Tennis Seriously

Hi, I’m Christy Vutam, and I’m a singles tennis player.

Being a singles player in the weekend warrior tennis community makes you something of a curious spectacle. You…run? You…are okay with playing by yourself? You…don’t think the point of playing tennis is exclusively to socialize?

You…can’t volley?

Let’s get something out of the way right now. Asking someone if she plays singles or making any sort of references to her singles abilities after she’s just played a doubles tennis match is a slap in the face to that player. She’s playing doubles. She’s…okay, trying to play doubles, bless her. When you bring up her singles game, you’re essentially saying she’s not a good doubles player. You are being rude and disrespectful.

Unless, of course, your goal is to ignite an unrelenting, burning passion within her to become a doubles ninja who will eventually show you what a real doubles player looks like and then beat you on a regular basis at ease with her mad doubles skills even if it takes her several years to actually enact this revenge, then that’s cool. Ignite away.

Sorry. Back to singles.

See! That’s the thing. Doubles is by far the game of choice for most weekend warrior tennis players. I don’t know why when doubles is so bloody frustrating. Not being able to play doubles makes you an outcast. Not being able to play singles is like some badge of honor. Like, haha, I can’t run! Isn’t that adorable!

It’s not. Not being able to run makes you a liability in doubles. Not being able to hit groundstrokes also makes you a liability in doubles. We lose in doubles because of your inability to perform simple tennis actions like run and/or hit groundstrokes. You’re not adorable then.

Oh, and if you could volley as well as I can hit groundstrokes…

Sorry! Singles, right.

I don’t know what it’s like in other cities, but in my region, real USTA/spring-summer USTA (the only tennis league that matters) is sandwiched in between two city-wide doubles leagues. So for most of the year in the spring and fall seasons, many singles players are forced to play this mutant form of tennis and like it. Otherwise, we would never interact with anyone in the tennis community for most of the year. We are very thankful to those charitable team captains of these doubles leagues who so generously agree to take us in.

But when real USTA comes around, in which the format is two lines of singles and three lines of doubles, we’re finally free to be ourselves. We’re finally unconstrained from the ridiculous restrictions of doubles. We’re finally allowed to hit the ball down the line!

You have no idea how much inner turmoil goes on in my head before every cross-court stroke I hit in doubles. Not hitting the ball down the line in doubles is a constant battle I’m tormented by on every shot.

There I go again! I can’t stop talking about doubles. Man, do I hate doubles.

And therein lies the problem. I’ve been obsessively playing doubles for the last nine months. Essentially, when the last real USTA season ended. I’ve played maybe a handful of singles matches in that span. And now come May, I’m going to be counted on to play singles for my USTA teams. If I don’t win my singles matches, I’m basically worthless to my USTA captains. If I lose at singles, I’m defeating the whole purpose of why I’m on my USTA tennis teams. If I can’t be counted on to hold down the singles line, what good am I to anybody?

Oh, boy.

Real USTA is less than a month away. I have less than a month to re-condition my body and mind to play singles. I’m starting to freak out. I may have forgotten how to hit groundstrokes, y’all. That’s how doubles brainwashed I am right now.

Luckily though, I suspect I’m not alone. My fellow singles players have probably also been swept up in the frenzy of their doubles teams and the push to finish strong in their doubles leagues. They’re only now realizing how close we are to the start of real USTA. They’re freaking out, too.

Wait a second.

Freaking out?

HAHAHAHAHA.

Sorry, I forgot. There ain’t nobody else on our teams that will voluntarily play singles in our stead. As the designated singles players, our roles on our tennis teams are secure no matter what our personal win/loss record is. Teams without enough singles players have had fierce rock-paper-scissors battles over who had to play the anti-social lines with its foreign brand of running/groundstroke-filled tennis that week. So having people who are willing to play singles? You are welcome, Captain. I am happy to grace you with my presence and help you and your team out.

Besides, if I lose my singles matches, it’s only because I didn’t want to get bumped up. Totes. How players’ USTA ratings are determined is unknown although the involvement of blindfolded dart throwing has been widely suspected. However, the one rating rule we think we’ve nailed down is that playing singles makes players more susceptible to being bumped in either direction.

Oh, yeah, people. I said it. I’m going to lose most of my singles matches on purpose this spring/summer so I don’t get bumped up.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Thanks to rvacapinta in Flickr ©Creative Commons

Wow. I’ve officially cracked. 1) It is never okay to lose. 2) There’s no need for me to “try” to lose. 3) I’m nowhere close to being at risk of moving up in USTA rating. I mean, to be at risk means you had to have won your USTA tennis matches so…

This is why you don’t want to play singles, kids. You lose your mind after all that running around and physical exertion with the harsh sun beating down on you. No wonder there’s only one for-reals tennis season for singles players. This explains our oddball reputation. Playing singles in tennis: it’s a hazard to your mental well-being.

See the picture of eggs frying? This is your brain after playing singles.

~ Christy Vutam