Huh. Ya Don’t Say…
Christy Vutam | May 22, 2013Somebody made this delightful video that summarizes everything I’ve ever thought about women’s recreational tennis in two and a half minutes.
Because of this video, there’s really no reason for me to keep writing. Oh, well.
The last time I was this stressed co-captaining a tennis team, that team ended up winning Sectionals. I guess that’s something to try to remember as I’m being pelted by the tennis gods as they play their version of dodgeball with me. In this game, I don’t get eliminated once I’ve been hit; I just keep getting hit. It hurts.
It is the second/third week of USTA, and I’ve discovered a truth about the player/captain relationship that I’m sure veteran captains already know: I dread hearing from any of my players. I don’t want to see a text from any of them on my cell; I don’t want to see an incoming call from any of them on my phone; and I don’t want to see an email from any of them in my inbox. In a perfect world, I would simply send out the line-up to the team, crawl back into bed, and sleep out the week till I had to see the scheduled players on Match Day.
I better see them all accounted for on Match Day. On time. Ooh, maybe even early. Wait. No. We’re still just working on being on time. Baby steps.
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