Battling Hard with the Rain

Sunday, March 25, 2018 (Court Day #139)

I awoke at 1:25 a.m. Drips were chattering in the downspout. “Uh, oh.” The courts might be wet in seven hours. As site coordinator, would I have to call off the day? Time would tell. After an hour or so, I managed to get back to sleep.

As I got ready, I asked Siri on my iPhone the temperature: “Brr! It’s 41 degrees outside.” I grabbed my sweatshirt.

I walked up to the Derby courts at 8:50. Oy. Very wet—puddles! I tried to call Dave Allenbaugh but got no answer, so I emailed Dave and Karen Long asking them to broadcast to the club that we should delay the start for an hour.

I got to blowing off the courts. Ray was the first arrival and helped set up.

There was a man from Canada visiting with a local friend. The friend said they’d just played in a tournament the day before in Southern California. I had the visitor sign the liability release. Optimistic!

After we’d set up one net and installed the mesh divider between the two tennis nets, it began to rain. Arg!!  Begrudging amused, we collected everything, returned it all to the storage bins then, disappointedly, the eight or so of us diehards went our separate ways.

Yep. Derby was a little soggy. A sad lonely place after everything was put back away.

As I was on the phone with Dave in my car, Grita and I waved to each other as she drove away. She never even made it to the courts. Dave would email out the cancel notice.

Reprise

Back at home, I got a text from John P. at 9:30 saying the rain should clear up by 2 p.m. and we—John, Eric, Tom S.—should meet at Brommer. It was drying out at my house with intermittent sun.

My wife Kristen and I ran a couple of errands a few blocks from Derby and it was raining again at about 11:45. It was a good call to cancel play this morning.

At 1:20, it was hailing! I was only partially optimistic, but still hoping for the Brommer gathering. At 1:45, John said that the pavement had dried near his house so he’d meet Tom at the courts at 2. Shortly before 2, I hopped in the car and headed over. But halfway there, a text came through which I had the phone read to me. John said the courts were wet and was canceling. Later, I saw he had attached a photo as proof.

I turned around and headed home. About a quarter of the way from home, I got a call from Eric saying they were going to do some dinking drills since they were there anyway. I turned around at Ocean Street and got back onto the freeway. Sheesh. Dedicated, aren’t we all?

I arrived at Brommer at 2:20. Tom was sweeping puddles off the first court, while Eric and John were dinking. The sun was peeking in and out of the moving clouds.

We played a couple of dinking games using only the non-volley zone as the legal court. At one point, John smiled and exclaimed, “I hate that you can switch hands!” (When he’d hit a sharp cross court dink, and I’d just switch the paddle to my left hand and hit the ball back over.) We were about to start a real game when the rain swept through again. *grumble* John and I retreated to my car while Eric and Tom braved the 10 minute shower.

The court dried quicker this time around. An unfamiliar family showed up—a dad and a friend along with the mom and son around 10-years-old. They had a pickleball set with four matching paddles—probably wood—and a bright green ball. They were having a grand time. Though they were a bit too exuberant for the court conditions and the mom ended up on her back. She was smiling and ok, but they did their share of slipping!

We continued with our dinking game. As the court dried, we moved to Terry’s “work your way to the net” drill—person at the net cooperatively serves to the player at the baseline who hits a drive. From there the net player tries to keep the other back, while the other tries to gain the net. If the baseline player survives four hits, then the drill is over and that player “survives”. I played with John while Eric played with Tom.

Soon the court was dry enough for a gentle pickleball game. We played, careful not to do anything too wild. As time progressed, the court got dry enough for typical games. We used our tournament partners, Eric and me against John and Tom. Eric and I won every time. After a few games, we mixed it up.

Eric was only having marginal success with a crosscourt drop shot. “Ah, you are using the patented Andrew Crosscourt Dropshot!” I think he got one out of four or five attempts. After a miss, I told him, “You know I can license that shot to you.” After another miss, I repeated, “I can license that to you.” Eric laughed, “At this point, I’m willing to pay just about anything!”

While Eric worked on his crosscourt dropshots, I worked a little on my forehand slice service return. More failed than worked, but I did have some success. After one went wild, Eric chuckled and suggested said, “You can only use that when we’re five points ahead.” So, I worked harder to get us five points ahead. Which we achieved… until my next forehand slice return went wild! But hey, if you don’t try, you don’t improve!

I had a learning moment. Tom accidentally popped up a very high shot that landed in the kitchen and bounced quite high. I stepped into the kitchen, waited for the ball to bounce, then slammed it between them for a winner. That is, until I called a fault on myself for hitting the net with my paddle followthrough. Duh. Something to avoid next time!

Around 4 p.m., maybe half an hour after the family left, a group of six athletic-looking seniors appeared and settled in on the far pickleball courts. I didn’t recognize any of them—it seems they don’t come to the club days.

John had his mom coming over for dinner and had to leave by 4:45. We finished our game at 4:40. “I have to go.” I pleaded, “You have time! One more game!” “5 minutes.” Eric suggested we start a game at 5-5. Surprisingly, John and Tom went on a six point run and—while service went back and forth a few times—beat Eric and me for the first time that day. “I feel better now,” said John.

On the way off of the courts, Eric asked John, “Did you bring a car or are you riding that home?” John was carrying his broom. “This is my Nimbus 2000!” (An obvious Harry Potter reference!) John, never one to pass kidding around, demonstrated!

“As long as you can see the broom in the photo!” Don’t worry, John!

I realized after we’d played most of our games that I still hadn’t put on my ankle brace. I opted to delay when we started since we were only dinking but then I didn’t get around to it. My ankle held up fine. It’s still not back to normal, but it seems to be continually improving.

Number of days on a court: 139
Number of total hours: 397.5

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