Saturday, April 22, 2017 (Court Day #18)

I arrived at Scotts Valley at about 9:10 for my first ever Saturday morning pickleball. (One of the nice things about being the boss is you have some flexibility as to when put in your 50 hours a week.) Cheryl was collecting the requisite $4 and having people sign the liability release required by the City of Scotts Valley. Mark (Maree’s husband) was there helping set up nets. Four were already set up. Signing up were a couple in their late 50s from Washington along with who I believe was their son and his slightly (showing) pregnant wife who live in the region but were still visiting. I realized that I’d never added my name and signature to the release sheet so I did so. Thursday nights aren’t official (not connected with the city, per se), so I think that’s why there is no fee and no release is set out then.

Saturdays are a bit of a different crowd. I recognized about half the people. There was also a man there three children maybe about 5-years-old showing them pickleball . . . though at one point, he was hitting a tennis ball with his very young daughter with the rest in the adjacent pickleball court.

I played a couple games, not doing too badly.

And I gotta learn to not feel sorry for older opponents on the court before I see them play. There was a little granny who could really smack ’em this morning!

The Tourists

In an early game, I was partnered with Larry (a regular, trim white goatee) and the visiting dad and son. They quickly ran up a lead—something like 5-0. Larry and I came back and made it something like 8-5 in our favor. But then they came back and won 11-8. It was a game of streaks. They weren’t slouches!

I asked Marianne about her cheek and she couldn’t even remember who had slammed the ball into her face. She thought it was Tom. Nope. Me. She said she was fine and again said that she had only left that game because her eye had started watering. Good news. No permanent damage. Unless memory . . . nah!

It’s amazing to watch the progress of Marianne and Janet (not there today), especially Marianne since she had the the furthest to go. She had some long rallies today. She’s still not stellar and has a weak backhand—which I recommended to her to work on—but definite progress.

I played with a taller fellow named Terry whom I had never seen. His mantra to me was when slamming the ball, hit it at our opponents’ feet. Good advice. Be a good slammer. Unless you can be Batman. Then always be Batman.

The Sidelines

As the morning moved along, more and more players sat on the bench or hung out chatting by the fence leaving courts idle. Aren’t we here to play? Again, a different crowd.

Rick and I played against Lauren (a regular, gray-blonde hair) and Terry, Lauren said the two of them needed practice together. (Maybe a tournament coming up for them? Senior Games in Palo Alto?) Rick and I lost the first game by a few points, but then won the second game handily. Go figure.

The Glorious and The Lame

As we left about 11:45, I told Eric’s friend Rick that once I play tomorrow, it will have been five times in eight days. He said, “No wonder you are getting good.” I make way too many errors to consider myself good. I’m solidly in the mix though with some glory moments and some moments of lameness.

One glory moment was picking a spot for a serve (shallow outside corner) and darned if I didn’t hit the spot perfectly. I mean, it could have been a tea saucer and I would have hit it. But I’m not that consistent. I had two serves go wide of the court today. I do better when I mentally pick an exact spot to hit to. My drop shots are improving though, that’s good. But in one game of the day, I made at least five mistakes in the first five minutes! It was sad.

Woe—thy name is consistency.

Number of days on a court: 18
Number of total hours: 52