It’s the end of the tennis season, and it’s supposed to get cold. This weekend they take down the nights. A few friends and myself went to play tennis after work. We played nine sets, starting at 6:00 and ending at about 11:30. I also drank 2 or 3 (or maybe 10) beers, strictly for hydration of course.
3 sets of singles, 6 of doubles.
I’m 33, but right now I feel very very old. My lower back is a painful knot, my legs are stiff, my right arm feels like it’s been wrenched from its socket, and I have a headache.
I am at work now, and there are things I have to do today. I would really rather curl up into a ball of self-satisfied tired pity.
But I won 7 of the 9 sets. My serve was a thunderbolt. My groundstrokes inspired fear. When I charged the net the angels retreated, and the ground shook at my overheads. It was worth it, a great night.
I say we call you Tennistilus. God of the Green Court.
I’m an avid Racquetball player, and got hit in the kidney by a very hard shot yesterday. It hit bare skin because of the tank I was wearing and actually managed to suck blood out through the skin. Pretty funny really, but boy oh boy does it hurt today. I empathize with you…
Actually I would have felt really guilty if Unclebeer had had to waste his 4000th post moving my stupid thread.
I for one am looking for something truly inspiring, that will lift me up out of my physical and mental malaise, and give me a reason to live through the long dark winter of tennislessness.
That’s what r-ball is for Scylla. Maybe a totally different game, but the same pricipals. Plus you don’t have to go chasing down little yellow balls. You can chase down blue or green balls.
Tho’ I now see the irony in always getting blue-balls when I go to the gym.
