Taking Weekend Tennis Seriously

I stumbled upon this D Magazine feature article on TCD (a non-USTA, cities-spanning, flight-ladder league in my area) from 1999. Some of the words/letters didn’t quite make it in the digital transition, but otherwise…yup. Yup, yup. Exactly.

On to the actual post:

You do not want to be my doubles partner. I wrote within the first month of starting this blog about the things I do / don’t do that annoy my doubles partners. Well, over the course of two years, I have accumulated even more evidence of my special talent for alienating people from wanting to play with me. I am awesome.

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I’ve got to start making a practice of clearing out the rest of my day after a tennis match.

If history holds, I will lose the match and then I am pretty much useless as a productive member of society for that day. I will spend what’s left of my waking seconds to do everything I can to cleanse myself of the stink of inadequacy off of me be it texting everyone in my little black tennis book for a pick-up match (by the way, here’s a tip: you should start off your text to me when you need a last second 4^th with “Hey, Christy, did you lose today? Do you want to play tennis right now?”) and/or hitting the ball machine.

I hit a lot of ball machine. I hit the ball machine more than you play tennis, fellow adult recreational tennis player. That’s just a fact.

That’s how much I lose at tennis.

Clearly, the ball machine is not helping you, Christy, um…

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