Back on the Court

My son and I played tennis this morning and I didn’t end up in the emergency room. Okay, I am exaggerating again, I have played tennis with him many times and ended up all in one piece.

A year ago I was hitting the ball around with my son in front of my house. I didn’t feel like driving to the tennis court so we made a makeshift court on our street (dodging the cars as they came off the highway was a challenge, but they usually honked to warn us they were coming.) The problem with playing in the street is that the street has a curb. We were about at the end of our “game” when my son dropped a shot right over the “net” and being the competitive person that I am, I ran for the ball, dove, tripped over the curb and landed on my shoulder.

The pain was excruciating, but the humiliation was almost worse. I kept thinking man, this hurts, and how many neighbors saw it? I haven’t played tennis in the street since then. I have no desire to spend all morning in the emergency room. The drugs afterwards were almost worth it, but the year long healing wasn’t!

My son is almost 13 and has improved his game so much in the last year. It helps that he has played so much more than I have, but I think his age also gives him a slight edge over me—at least when it comes to energy. I try to make up for that with skill. That doesn’t work so well now.

I surprised myself with some pretty decent whacks at the ball. I mean I wasn’t great, my backhand was horrible, but I held my own, and wasn’t even tired for a whole 10 minutes! It was only 500 degrees at 8:30am so cut me some slack here. The sun was beating down on my face, but I kept going. I looked my opponent in the eye and determined I would give him my all, even if I was sore in the morning.

After 60 minutes of getting beat at the net and listening to the victory screams of my son, he let me know that I might want to trade sides for a little while (we weren’t playing a real game just hitting back and forth.) I went over to the other side of the net and was welcomed by this nice breeze. The kid has the best side the whole time! The breeze was enough for me to get my mojo back though. I took two breaths and determined that he would be hearing my victory screams and watching my victory dance.

I did finally beat my son at the net and nature heard my victory screams but I had no energy for a victory dance. I left the court happy I survived almost 2 hours of partial humiliation and near heat stroke and held my own. It also helped that I looked cute in my tennis skirt.