Friday, May 3, 2019 (Court Day #262)

Day 23 playing left-handed. Tennis elbow.

I pulled into Brommer Park a few minutes after 9 a.m. Kim was walking in with her little dog about 20 feet in front of me. No games were going yet, just a few courts of warming up players and a net or two being set up in addition to the four permanent courts.

Claire

A middle-aged woman with cropped hair was warming up with Chris. I’d never seen her before. She introduced herself as Claire and she said she’s local but only plays at Brommer once or twice a month. She played at the recent Paso Robles tournament. We ended up playing as a team in my first game of the day. She has solid forehand and backhand strokes. That was a frustrating game—as they would prove to be during the course of the morning, my drop shots were consistently bad. Forehand, backhand, didn’t matter. I was hitting far too softly. Claire and I only lost by a couple of points. She wasn’t perfect, but the vast bulk of the errors were on me.

Of note, after one point, Claire said something to the effect of, “Don’t stop on your way to the net.” I didn’t say anything, but my first thought was the damaged ego thought, “There must have been some good reason I stopped.” And, honestly, I suspect there may have been. Maybe I thought the shot was attackable and about to be slammed back. But it’s very possible that I just errantly stopped too soon. Stuart also said that to me this week, “Get to the net!” I know for a fact some of those times I was either stopping instead of moving through a shot or expecting a ball to come back very fast. Regardless, this is something I’m going to have to investigate. Probably with the use of video.

Adrian

In a later game, Adrian and I had a fierce volley battle at the net. After the ball careened back and forth a number of times, Adrian hit it into the net. “Jesus, Andrew, left-handed!” He was obviously impressed.

Sacramento Doug

Doug and his wife were still in town visiting from Sacramento. I signed up in a box with them—unknowingly, since I didn’t know their names—and ended up in a game with them along with a younger fellow with an unusual name that escapes me at the moment—”Sante” maybe. He said this was his fifth time out, four at Skypark in Scotts Valley and this his first time here. After a volley battle at the net between Doug and me, his wife blurted out, “I’d hate to see him playing right-handed!”

But, for every great shot, there was a completely lame shot that ended up in the net or sailing off into Never Never Land somewhere. I missed a 3-4 serves today. Not bad. I figure not worse than most players today—miss one serve every game or two. One was when I was serving to a lefty—a “real” lefty—and trying to land it near his backhand . . . instead, it landed across the centerline in the wrong service court. Accuracy is still not there yet with my left-handed serving.

With the stiffer competition at Brommer, it’s a wake up call on progress. Yes, I’m very much improving playing left-handed, but lots of work to do yet. I really miss using my dominant right arm.

It was time to go. 12:11. Home, lunch, shower, work. In that order!

Number of days on a court: 262
Number of total hours: 717

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