Month: April 2019 (Page 2 of 4)

Sunday, April 21, 2019 (Court Day #257)
Easter Sunday

I went to an early Easter service with my wife then was off to open Derby Park. For once, I arrived very comfortably early. I had asked Dave and John P. via email this week if either could close today, but both had family obligations—like me! But Stuart was available and willing.

While I blew off the courts, I noticed just how bad some spots were getting. It’s good that the city is planning to refinish them: 

There were several things of note today. I didn’t miss a single serve today. Impressive playing left handed! A woman named Laurie was visiting. When I shook her hand as my partner, she said that she believed that she’d met me at Mitchell Park in Palo Alto. “I have been there once.” (Later, as I was on the path leaving Derby, I passed her daughter emerging from the Port-A-Potty. Then it clicked. Maree and I had definitely played against them in Palo Alto.) Janet and I  played against Laurie and Cal. Laurie plays much better than you’d expect for a larger, 60-ish woman. Were she a local, her play would fall in the top half of the club. Janet and I got clobbered in that game. Though for one point, Cal was whipping his tennis instructor forehand drives at me from the back court while I was at the net. I staved off three and on the fourth, he drove the ball into the net. Later, he said, “You play well left handed.” That’s the second time in a week that he’s said that. I wish he’d started showing up when I was still playing with my dominant right hand! Some day, he’ll see what my normal play is like and not struggling playing lefty.

The most important news of the day was when I picked up my phone about 11:15, there were missed calls and a number of texts from about half an hour before. My mom had passed out at home and was unresponsive and was rushed to the hospital. By the time I called my brother Mike—who had been next to my mom when it happened, an Easter blessing, he caught her and kept her from bashing her head—she was in the ER awake and diagnosed. She was having AFIB and they’d given her medication to address that. Her heart still was irregular, but nothing life-threatening. Mike said I could keep playing if I wanted since everything was under control and there was nothing I could do, and I was tempted, but I instead headed home, showered then headed to the hospital. Pickleball pales in comparison.

Monday, April 22, 2019 (No Play)

Today, my mom’s heart returned to normal rhythm naturally and she was released to go home and rest—a day earlier than the doctors had originally figured. Excellent news. She’ll be permanently on blood thinners, but that’s a small price to pay.

This afternoon I shook a customer’s hand and it immediately struck me that I hadn’t experienced any pain. Quite a milestone. Maybe it was “just right” to avoid the pain that I typically experience. There’s still significant pain when I stick my arm out straight and bend my hand up at the wrist and I expect handshakes to hurt again—there are ups and downs—but progress is progress!

At closing time at work, pickleball came up in discussion. (Surprise, right?) The two clerks right there didn’t know what it was—one had confused it with bocce ball—so I found a video on YouTube about how to play it. After showing them that, mostly talking over the video, I did a search for “Andrew Santa Cruz pickleball” and a match from last summer appeared, one that featured Eric and me against Oleg and Jeff. I started that and they watched all of about one or two minutes. I watching it, I said, “Boy, I just hit a nice drop shot… wow, this is a really good point…” I was getting pretty good back then. Perspective is an interesting animal. There’s a certain amount of respect and admiration from afar for where I was compared to where I am now playing left-handed. There’s some frustration too. I want to be playing that well now! And how much of a slide will manifest itself when I switch back to my right hand? Where would my play have been had I not had pain for the last five months?

As it is, my right shoulder is sore. I’m far more aware of it now after my visit to the physical therapist. I can lift my upper arm to about 25 degrees below level with the ground before pain starts.

I’m harboring hopes that I’ll be back to right handed in time to play in the Cabrillo tournament in August. As always, time will tell!

Number of days on a court: 257
Number of total hours: 702.5

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Wednesday, April 17, 2019 (Court Day #256)

I went to Ruby—the physical therapist my wife highly recommended—at 9:45 a.m. for my first ever physical therapy appointment. I’d never met her. She’s a stout middle-aged woman with blonde hair and a big smile. She asked about my arm. I told her about the tournament in mid-November, how it was my 7th or 8th tournament, how the elbow started hurting a day or two after, how I played through it until January 1 when it just got too painful and how I’ve been playing left-handed. How the foam roll for “Tyler Twists” was too painful to use. I also started to mention my right ankle, but at that she firmly stated, “I can only address what is on the referral.” (That is, only my elbow.)

She smiled knowingly as I told my story. “It’s not your elbow. It’s your shoulder. I could tell as soon as you sat down.” She tested my grip strength and my finger pinching power. The left grip was about 85 pounds. Right grip was a mere 5 pounds before it hurt and I stopped. After I pinched a different device she presented to my right hand, she said something to the effect of, “Remind me not to get into a finger battle with you!” Apparently, that reading was particularly strong. Bagpiping? Pickleball? Vises I use at work periodically at work? Genetics? Dunno.

She worked on my right shoulder for 5-6 minutes, saying it’s partially frozen. She said I’m compensating for my lack of shoulder range with more motion by my elbow. She said both were inflamed and I might also have some mild tearing in the elbow.

She had my lie on my back and Ruby ran the ultrasound machine over my shoulder for a while, then my elbow and forearm. She said this was to heat the deep tissues.

She then worked on my shoulder more with me pushing my elbow toward my feet while she provided resistance. She also worked on my right wrist a bit. Then she applied some tape to my elbow with the instruction to leave it for two days.

She provided several exercises/stretches, which she video recorded on my phone for me to reference. One stretch involved pushing my shoulder back using a doorframe via my arm. Another used an inflated ball held against the wall. Another, show below, used an inverted hand against the wall.

Just one example of a stretch explained by Ruby…

Palm flat against the wall. 

Rotate the body away from the wall. Try to pull fingers away.

Repeat other side.

Rudy wrote up an order for four more sessions. She also gave me a couple sheets with the stretches I’m to do at least a few times each week. I scheduled the follow-up appointments at the front desk. It was now 10:45. As I had hoped, still time to play pickleball!

Derby

I got to Derby Park just after 11 a.m. All the courts were full on this beautiful day.

The view walking up to Derby Park.

I walked up to the court board and signed up in an empty box in blue, the color for “intermediate/advanced” players. I got skipped over and a few players signed up in a new box all in red, the color for purely “advanced”. (Officially, by club standards, this would be 4.0 skill and above.) There were no 4.0 players in that bunch. Tom B. (“Visor Tom”) also signed up in red in yet the next empty box.

A rarity occurred. I was mad—not at Tom in particular, more so at the other non-4.0 players that first skipped over my box. Like Wayne. (I love Wayne, but stinker!) I’m always polite, but, boy, was I complaining to Tom! “I’m better left-handed than some of these people signing up in red!” (Not my most humble moment!) I erased my blue name and rewrote it in red. “Tom, sign up in my box.” He did, erasing his name from the other box. Robin walked up. “Sign up in red in my box,” I suggested. I ducked inside the gate and Allan K. was walking up having just finished a game. “We need a fourth. Sign up in our box?” Bingo! We had a game!

Tom and I went on to win against Allan and Robin. And it wasn’t all Tom’s play that made the difference. Afterward, Allan said, “You’re playing well left-handed. When you go back to playing right-handed, are you going to play with both hands?” I told him I still play far better right-handed.

Later, in the last game, Wayne and I played against Robin and Allan. We lost. My serves fell apart a bit and I missed maybe 4-5 serves in that game. It’s that consistency thing.

About 12:30, work was “calling”. Home then to work.

Number of days on a court: 256
Number of total hours: 700.5

To start at the beginning of this blog click on “1st Post” in the menu above.

Monday, April 15, 2019 (Court Day #255)

Being that I worked Monday through Saturday and part of yesterday (Sunday), I took this morning off. I arrived at Brommer Park at 9:10. Things were already hopping.

The view of Brommer at 10 minutes after start time. Gearing up.

There was a man I’d never seen before, James. I introduced myself. James was visiting from San Jose. I asked if he knew Bryan and he said that he did. James is quite skinny and reminds me of a road bicyclist. I didn’t get to play with him, but of the few glimpses that I saw, he looked like a good player.

While we were sitting next to each other on the bench waiting for another game, Cal said, “You play well left handed.” Cathy—Kim’s friend—and I had just wiped out Cal and Chuck. We were leading 10-0 before I made an error and gave them a point. I think it ended 11-2.

Cal asked how my backhands are. I told him that I tend to hit low balls that come to my lefty backhand off to the right—I need to point the end of my paddle a bit more towards the middle of my opponent’s court. Cal recommended choking up on my paddle for backhands and maybe putting my thumb on the face for more control. He may be right. I don’t think I’d be able to change my paddle that fast on a backhand, so that might mean holding my paddle all the time that way. Not sure if I’m ready for that…

Jerry—not Jerry Louis, he moved to Arizona last year—was surprised when I told him that I’m only playing left-handed. He didn’t notice in the game we’d played against each other. I don’t know whether to be complimented on my left-handed play or insulted on behalf of my right-handed play!

My mom texted a couple hours into the morning. The Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris is on fire and the main spire has fallen. This was horrible news. My wife and daughter both got to visit it. (I’ve never been to France.) I was distraught. I’d heard such amazing things about that church. Now, I—or anyone else—might never be able to see it . . . ever.

My day was inconsistent. Par for the course lately. Some games, I played almost on par with my right handed play. Others, shots were laughable—in fact, those that were completely wild, I’d bust up laughing.

I did some more backhand slices. They were more successful than yesterday. A couple went into the net on my side, but more went into the net—or simply bounced twice—on the other side. Some progress there.

By 12:20 on the road for home, then to work.

Ratings

One thing that I don’t consider “fair” in the USAPA rating system is the age factor. And I know I’ve complained about this before. There are others I could pick, but I’m going to choose Melody since it’s a prime example. (Plus Mel is a nice person and a good sport.) My current UTPR rating is 3.0 (3.469 to be exact, it rounds down), but Melody—whom I consistently outplay when I’m healthy and I’m approaching her skill level with me playing left handed—has a 4.0 UTPR because she only plays in older age brackets. I play tournaments in 3.5 since I don’t think it’d be fair for me to play in 3.0. Even in 50+ mens—not even “18+”— Mel would unquestionably be a 3.0 tournament player. (Or maybe even 2.5 equivalent in a big men’s sanctioned tournament? Could be. Men’s sanctioned tournaments are tough.) This USAPA discrepancy in UTPR “offends” my inner logician. If ratings aren’t going to be universal, then they should be clarified with an age bracket. “4.0 60+” or “3.5 70+”. At least, that’s my opinion. I’ll continue to hold that opinion even if I’m playing 20 years from now.

Speaking of long time playing, I’m almost to 700 hours on a pickleball court!

Tuesdsday, April 16, 2019 (No Play)

I got a message from Ruby, the physical therapist that my wife swears by, saying she had an appointment opening at 9:45 a.m. tomorrow. (Apparently, someone canceled.)  So, rather that having to wait several weeks, it turned into several days! Excellent. Ironically, my arm is feeling a little better. Though, still, if I fully straighten my right arm and flex my hand back at the wrist, it’s significantly painful near the elbow. There’s no doubt that it’s still nowhere near healed, unfortunately. Hopefully, Ruby can live up to my wife’s praises!

Number of days on a court: 255
Number of total hours: 699

To start at the beginning of this blog click on “1st Post” in the menu above.