Wednesday, January 10, 2018 (Court Day #111)

This was a Derby Park day. 50°F, a bit cold, though the sweatshirt lasted one game then came off leaving me in a “pickleball” T-shirt—my new Christmas present from my sister-in-law—and shorts.

Another Upset

Ted B. (Eric’s friend) and I beat Mike and Grita for a surprising upset. It was a tight game, but Ted and I did indeed win. Ted is a bit of a banger, but he played solidly in that game. I had some eye-popping highlight shots that I still can’t figure out how I managed to get them back over the net. We went on to have a rematch—Mike desperately wanted one—and Ted and I lost. We went on for a third game (there were no interested players waiting) and that one was lopsided in their favor. Given he’s in such great shape, it’s easy to forget that Ted is in his 70s. I think we may have worn him out a bit!

Down We Go

I was playing against Jane and Ron with Alan as my partner. (I don’t get to play with Jane all that much, so I was looking forward to it.) It was a close game, though Alan and I were down a couple of points . . . 5-3 or something. Jane hit a cross-court forehand and I moved quickly to my right. *CRUNCH* I was on the ground. The sound had come from me rolling my right ankle. Such a bummer! Someone helped me up. I was too distracted to notice. I was able to put weight on the ankle a bit without dying, so that was a good sign. Kim produced a bag of instant cold and I soon was seated with my right foot up on a chair and my ankle icing.

Tom Sherwood came over after his game finished. “What happened?” “I rolled my ankle.” He pressed on my ankle bone. “Does that hurt?” “No.” “How about this?” He pressed in the soft area on the front of my ankle. “No.” “It’s not broken, it’s just a strain. If you see any blood, that’s ok.” I looked at him puzzled, concerned, and amused. “Blood?” “If your ankle turns blue and purple, that’s ok.” Ah. Jane asked Tom what kind of doctor he was. “Retired!” Then it came out that he used to work in an E.R. over the hill (in the San Jose area). No question of his qualifications to diagnose an ankle. How convenient! Later someone asked about an X-ray for it. Tom said, “No preputable facility would X-ray it. It’s not broken.”

At about a quarter to 12, with Kent and Ted on either side of me to lean on, I hobbled to my car. Thanks, guys!

Thursday, January 11, 2018

Evening. So my ankle is getting better. It still hurts with each step, just below my outside ankle bone, but it is noticeably improved. Certain movements make me gasp, but it’s not as bad as yesterday. I, coincidently, had a previously scheduled annual checkup with my doctor, Dr. Atkinson. Since I was there anyway, he looked over the ankle again and—unsurprisingly—concurred with Dr. Tom’s diagnosis yesterday. Dr. Atkinson copied off some ankle rehabilitation instructions for me. He said as soon as comfortable, to get on the leg and use the ankle so scar tissue doesn’t build up.

He asked me how I did it. I told him I was playing pickleball. By his reaction, he obviously had heard of it before. I went on, “I played over 300 hours last year.” With raised eyebrows and a smile, he said, “300 hours? That’s like an hour a day!”

When I told him my back gets sore from pickleball, he recommended building up my core muscles. Coincidentally, this video was shared tonight on the FB Pickleball Forum, “Pickleball Core Power”. It starts a bit slow, but some exercises are towards the end:

There was also this video. Gee. I never hit a slam into the net. Not. Apropos. I’ll have to try this:

Jeanne has arranged for a small group instruction on Sunday with Terry Long. I’m supposed to be part of that group. We’ll see how it goes. I was out with my daughter Charlotte—she wanted a container of ice cream—and we stopped for batteries at CVS. While there I scoped out and purchased a $38 ankle brace . . . Velcro and elastic. Terry said he had tape to apply to my ankle if it wasn’t ready for Sunday. He also said, “You’ll be fine.” Just rub some dirt on it, right? Fingers crossed!

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Oh, speaking of Charlotte, she got an email today notifying her that she made the Dean’s List at Tufts University for the fall 2017 semester. Nice work, Charlotte! And my son Nicholas got straight “A”s at UCLA for the fall quarter which included what my particle physicist professor friend claims was the most difficult math class he took in college, Analysis, which is basically complex calculus proofs. Yes, it’s true. I admit it. I did ask my wife her SAT score on our first date. She did really well—but I still outscored her! (But she rightly points out that her GPA was higher than mine!) We did end up with pretty bright kids.

No Thursday night pickleball for me this week. Alas!

Number of days on a court: 111
Number of total hours: 313

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