Thursday, March 25, 2021 (Court Day #364)
My red-eye flight left SFO Tuesday night at 10:48 p.m. I hate red-eyes. I have a hard time sleeping on a cramped and noisy airplane, but I did sleep a little.
I had a 2 1/2 hour layover in Florida so I started the Third Shot Sports Introductory Instructor Training Program . . . it involves a little bit of reading, watching an hour-long video, and a test. I got through a majority of the video while sitting at the gate.
My son Nicholas picked me up at the Durham airport shortly before noon yesterday (Wednesday). I did a little bit of work remotely, took a much-needed hour nap to catch up on missed sleep, then I finished up the Training Program. I passed the test with flying colors and I was emailed a link to a certificate proving I had witnessed and understood Mark Renneson’s program for introducing beginners to pickleball:
As a site coordinator for the Santa Cruz Pickleball Club, I’ve introduced a number of rank beginners to pickleball and this will likely continue into the future, so I appreciate another perspective on the process. I’ve been told by my various newbies that I do a good job—one even said it was like having a private coach—but I believe there is always room for improvement.
Nicholas and I went out for hamburgers at a local brewery downtown last night. The inside tables were closed due to COVID, but the weather was nice for a table outside not too close to other people. As a teaching assistant, Nicholas has had vaccine shots, but I haven’t. So far, I’m too young and too healthy and not considered enough at risk. My burger was overdone and they brought Nicholas the wrong burger at first, but still, I enjoyed our time together.
Ephesus Park
I left Nicholas’ apartment just after 9 a.m. and arrived at Ephesus Park in Chapel Hill, NC at 9:20. There was plenty of parking—it’s a good-sized lot—and people were already playing. I pulled in and a car pulled up next to me. We both got out. I asked, “Playing pickleball?” He said he was. This was Alex. Tall, white hair, thin, goatee. Pleasant fellow. I explained that I was visiting from California and he took me under his wing.
Alex connected us up with Ian and another fellow, I think his name was Jim, but I can’t remember. (Too many names!) Ian has some speedy shots at his disposal. Ian and I handily won two very lopsided games, then since the courts were now full, we made room for others.
They complained about their new courts; there was an obvious ripple on the courts nearest the parking. Alex said when it’s cold, the ripple sticks up even more and a player even tripped on it. Some spots could be noticed where the surface had been peeled up, treated, and adhered back down—three-quarter round circles with cement residue around each patch. There was talk about the courts being completely ripped up and replaced to fix the dead spots.
Soon, I had two games with super-nice Dwight against Ian and Ben. Ian has a great forehand drive and is good with placement. Ben isn’t super mobile, but hit well. Dwight told me Ian was having a bad day—Ian hit a few serves and drives into the net. We lost lost both games, but they were close games.
I played a game with some weaker players, David and his wife Suzanne against Laura and me. I enjoyed the game. Not challenging, but pickleball is nearly always fun. It was one of those games where you dial it down a bit. Laura and I won 12-10. They were all very nice, as was everyone I met today.
There were some better players in a game I observed, Terry whom I’d played against earlier (his friend Darcy was his partner) and three others. One, it turned out was named Mark, who said he’s only been playing a year . . . “To get my steps in!”, he explained with a broad smile. I talked to him for a bit. Mark’s about 6 foot, heavier-set, and probably in his late 40s or early 50s, judging from his dark hair.
I managed to get a game with Mark, Terry, and a man I never learned the name of. It started to rain but it was a warm rain and it wasn’t heavy—though the drops were large—and it didn’t make the court completely wet, maybe 80% of the surface, but enough to start making the surface slippery. We finished up the game which Mark and I lost by a significant margin.
Rain Delay
While we waited for the courts to dry, a few of us, Wendy—apparently, there are three of them!—Paul (visiting from Missouri, who said his wife is far better than him and plus in tournaments) and a red-head named Kim, did dinking at the net for about 20 minutes. Wendy’s getting over knee surgery. Kim bailed out before the courts were dry enough for my liking to join a strong game on an adjacent court.
Wendy and Paul (Missouri) played a game against me and a local named Kylene, who was decked out in a matching University of North Carolina cap and shirt. It was a pretty good game. Wendy is obviously a sports person, even recovering from a knee surgery—not mobile, but makes up for it with reliable shots. Paul was a solid intermediate too. I’m pretty sure we lost that one, but we made a good game of it.
Last Game
The last game was Kylene and me against Lisa and Arden. Arden reminds me of Walter Matthau. He was a bit distracting to the flow of the game but amusing. Kylene and I lost 11-9 after a valiant—but failed—comeback effort.
I waited around a bit longer then when it got apparent that the crowd had thinned too much to expect a game, plus it was nearly 2 p.m.—1:55—it was time to head back and see how Nicholas was doing on his schoolwork. I thanked Terry in the parking lot and I was on my way.
I didn’t get to see all the games, but my sense is that the overall level of play in Santa Cruz is stronger . . . but I only have a very small sample size!
Number of days on a court: 364
Number of total hours: 1,033.5
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