Taking Weekend Tennis Seriously

When I play doubles, there are times when it feels like I’m the scrawny, nobody-character in the TV show/movie who the screen shows the big bad guys being fearful of and sprinting away from, and my character’s all like “Yeah, that’s right! BE SCARED OF ME!”

Then I turn around and come face-to-face with the hero of the story with all the muscle and actual butt-kicking ability who was standing behind me the whole time.

Oh. So that’s why I won.

It’s especially fun when the match concludes and I go up to the net to shake hands with the opponents and they practically push me aside to flirt with my doubles partner and gush over her tennis abilities.

I don’t even recognize the win afterwards because I was as useful as a fern while my doubles partner, who is above my pay grade, did all the dominatin’ and I feel all worthless inside and I tear up on my drive home LIKE WHAT IS EVEN THE POINT ANYMORE.

Ahem.

Have you ever played with someone and wondered if this person stumbled onto your court and by your side by mistake? Because this otherworldly being is doing this…this…this thing that as a peasant, you’ve only heard whispers of from the wise men in your village: your partner puts volleys away.

I don’t understand the sorcery behind this witchcraft, but I have seen it with my own two eyes and I am blown away every time it happens.

Every. Time. It. Happens.

I don’t know if I’ll ever stop being in awe of a partner who can put volleys away.

Where I come from, being able to make contact with the ball before it hits the ground and have it go over the net and into the court is a minor miracle.

Hitting a volley winner is a MAJOR miracle.

I still tell my partners to this day after I execute a real-to-goodness put-away volley winner that it needs to be given its proper due with a week-long festival thrown in my honor that culminates in a knighthood ceremony instead of the apathy-bordering-on-disrespect currently being shown. Like, why aren’t you as amazed as I am at what just occurred? IT MAY NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN.

I, on the other hand, have no problem celebrating the spells my partners conjure up at the net. Um, except my partners do…because I be loud in my euphoria.

It’s gotten to the point where when I’m fortunate enough to play with those fine folks and they perform yet another textbook perfect put-away volley, I have to only look at the ground and pretend like someone didn’t just blow my mind with the news that the Earth actually revolves around the sun.

I seriously did have a partner tell me to stop looking at her like that – “that” would be my usual mixture of awe and idolization – and that hitting volley winners and smashing overheads like a boss while traveling backwards to the service line is totally normal tennis behavior.

IT MOST CERTAINLY IS NOT.

The worst part about playing with people who can win points on their volleys is that you start to think this is normal. Like, everyone should be able to execute a put-away volley. And then you may or may not lose your cool when other people you play doubles with either don’t even bother going for balls that are a step away from them when they’re at the net or simply bop the volley back harmlessly to the opponents, and then your partner may or may not turn right back around and ask you, “Whoa. Did you just yell at me?” and you have to mentally thump yourself in the head for being the town idiot, but then you realize the real problem here and silently curse those better-than-thou partners for ruining your tennis life.

That’s right. I’m the victim here. At fault are you people who can put volleys away like it-ain’t-no-big-thang.

Maybe I don’t execute volley winners with regularity because I’m just not making the right animal sacrifices…