Taking Weekend Tennis Seriously

Maybe my tennis team lost the last match of the season so that I would post regularly again.

Joke’s on them, of course. It’s taken me nearly two weeks to get over that loss. HAH!

I’m still not over it. I’m still in Phase One of the Don’t Make Play-Offs By One Match Recovery Stage: moping around in my sweat pants. Who’s joining me for Phase Two?

So, to the amazement of everyone – especially my players – that rah-rah speech from the last post worked. Can you believe it? I definitely saw people rolling their eyes while I was delivering it. But wouldn’t you know it, that litany of unbelievable things I listed last time that needed to fall our way happened. My USTA Thursday team ended up just needing to win the last match of the regular season and we would be headed to the Qualifying Tournament.

That’s it.

Win and we’re in.

Destiny solely in our hands again.

Just win 3 out of the 5 lines.

That’s it.

And with a team as good as mine, that shouldn’t be a problem, right? It would take some moron of a captain to screw it up and put out the wrong line-up in the most important match of the season.

Did someone call for a doctor? ~ Ocean’s Eleven

Hi, there. Did someone call for a moron of a captain?

When something really, seriously terrible happens like your recreational tennis team losing the one match it needed to win in order to have to take off precious vacation hours at work and/or be away from your family and receive the stink-eye from husbands and kids in order to play not even the actual play-offs of your weekend warrior tennis league, it’s natural to think back and question every single move you made in the events leading up to this tragedy.

All you want to do is go back and change just that one little, itty-bitty decision that ended up altering the entire course of the rest of your life.

I hate learning.

You know you’re a moron of a captain when:

• Half your team at various times asks you why you didn’t play so-and-so and they aren’t even asking about themselves.
• The opposing players ask you why you didn’t play so-and-so.
• The entire rest of the world knows who your line one players are except you.

Outstanding work, Captain.

Or.

Maybe the problem wasn’t me. Maybe my team was trolling me. In the two matches prior to that fateful last match of the season, my team won both of them 5-0. 5-0. That’s dominant. By waiting till the last match to lose and to not complete Project Win Out, they didn’t let me pull names out of a hat after all. That’s the real tragedy here. I totally would have bought a top hat to draw names out of.

Or, maybe I just didn’t want my team to advance, anyway. Subconsciously. And that’s why I threw out that mess of a line-up.

Both real and pretend play-offs are in July. You know what else is in July? The summer. The really hot summer.

My subconscious mind is saying, “You knew what you were doing. I mean, come on. You didn’t really want to be playing in July. Possibly two matches in one day. Way, way too hot for all that nonsense.”

“You didn’t really want to still be captaining right now. You didn’t really want to have to keep organizing and poring over spreadsheets and making it all look nice and colorful. Having to be in charge and feeling important. Having to keep being all swept up in the intoxicating world of team tennis where what your team does is a reflection of your true self-worth in life.”

Who wants that?

Right. As if there was really some part of me deep down inside hidden from even myself that doesn’t want any of that. Hmm. If such a part does exist, maybe it’s the part of me that’s still sane. The ever shrinking…

Look, tennis gods. Do I need to promise to be a better person on and around the tennis courts? Is that what this is all about? Is it the over-the-top youthful exuberance? Is it the unnecessary grunting? Is it the unfunny jokes I might throw down? Is it the extreme seriousness I might be exhibiting instead depending on how the match is going? Is it the obnoxious “Come on’s!” I yell out involuntarily from time to time when I do something good in a close match?

Okay, I can cut down on the unfunny jokes. And by tomorrow, I won’t be as young as I was today so the exuberance will gradually go away. That’s a start, right?

Right.

Sigh. Welp, this was an interesting first season as a captain. Torturous at times. Totally worth it at other times.

Heart-breaking. Numbing. Depressing.

So…do this again same time same place next year?

Oh, yeah. That’s right. There’s going to be a next time.

Next time, it’ll be different. All these learning experiences won’t go to waste. Next time, I’ll be better.

Besides, did you really think I was going to stop captaining and let off the weekend tennis world that easily? 🙂

~ Christy Vutam