The Tennis

For the first time ever, I am playing this spring in an adult team tennis league sponsored by the United States Tennis Association. I guess most people sign up as a team, but I signed up as an individual so was assigned to a team composed of guys who work for R.J. Reynolds tobacco company.

We are not a strong team. I am probably the best player on the team — which is just another way of saying we are not a strong team.

Last weekend was our third match. Because of my traveling, and Chipper’s baseball schedule, I missed the first match. The second match rained out, so the third match was my first. It was actually the third time I played tennis in 2005 (other than hitting with the kids). I am sorry to say that things did not go well.

I played at #1 singles and lost 6-2, 6-1. I got whooped, but the scores don’t accurately reflect how close the match was. If I would have held serve every time we went to deuce on my serve, the scores would have been 4 and 3.

Still, my conditioning is terrible, affecting my footwork and ball-striking. And when you are not getting enough oxygen, it is hard to think.

Nonetheless, for my poor performance, I apologize to my coaches, Mad Dog and Glory, and all of my fans.

Postscript: In my second league match, playing at #1 singles, I won 6-3, 6-1. Turns out the first team I played against has gone to the state championships in each of the past 3 years, and have a number of what in golf would be called “sand baggers” (people playing below their actual ability level).

Published by David Yamane

Sociologist at Wake Forest U, student of gun culture, tennis player, racket stringer (MRT), whisk(e)y drinker, bow-tie wearer, father, husband. Not necessarily in that order.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: