Friday, May 24, 2019 (Court Day #269)
Day 30 playing left-handed. Tennis elbow.
I had a physical therapist appointment this morning at 8:30. Ruby, the PT, gave me yet another exercise. Reaching out my straight arm in front of me, with my wrist bent down, and placing the back of my hand against the wall making sure my arm is locked straight. It is to stretch out my wrist—obviously, right?
Brommer Park
It was 9:15 by the time I was a Brommer. As I walked up, Greg and his wife Angie called up from a court asking if I’d be in LA next month. “For the graduation?” (Their daughter Lexi is studying English at UCLA and my son Nicholas is there studying Applied Mathematics.) “Yes, we’ll be there!” “We’ll need to meet up!” “Sounds good!” For good measure, I was co-incidentally wearing my Yoda-themed UCLA Bruins T-shirt! (It was a gift from my wife!)
The view of the courts as I walked up at 9:15. Many more players yet to come.
From one court to another, I called over to George that I needed to talk to him. It was a while, but I got a chance, right before his group got called for an open court. “Do the names Rick Dougherty, Charlie Stokes, and Gary mean anything to you?” By the time I’d gotten to “Stokes”, a smile had broken across his face and he’d interjected, “Sure! How…” “We overlapped on the software engineering team at Mountain Computer in 1989!” So, this George Propper was indeed the George Propper who had been a 42-year-old senior engineer while I was a 22-year-old junior engineer. I told him I had only been there a few months over the summer. (As I mentioned previously, it was a temporary position, and I’d turned down the opportunity to make it permanent.) We reminisced a bit, particularly about the co-worker—my immediate supervisor—who had anger management issues, Gary. Neither of us could remember his last name.
I played an assortment of games. My play was marginal. I missed more than my share of serves. But I improved over the morning.
George and I played against Greg—Angie’s husband—and Allan Cable. There were good games. George and I won the first 11-6 and the second game 11-8. I have to say, looking back hours later, that’s quite an accomplishment. Greg and Allan aren’t fantastic players—though Allan has won medals—but they certainly aren’t weak players. With George, I had just beaten them, twice, playing left-handed. That’s an accomplishment. It’s one thing to beat a weaker team, it’s another to beat to decent players. (At my prime right-handed, I was somewhat better than both, but that’s meaningless right now.)
Those two were my last games for the day. I was done about 12:15.
So?
I played ok today. Not so great to start, but I got better as the morning went on. George commented that I’m overall getting better—“not at the same level” (as my normal righty play)—but improving. He said my footwork is holding me back as well as not using my hips for power for my lefty backhand. He was impressed that I didn’t miss any of my service returns.
In the parking lot, George excitedly and proudly shared the previously forgotten last name: “Williams!” “Yes!”, I confirmed with a pleased smile. I’d been wracking my brain for days, trying to remember!
Number of days on a court: 269
Number of total hours: 739
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