Perspective

Wednesday, February 14, 2018 (Court Day #125)

On Monday, I emailed the Livermore office for the tournament asking if they have a schedule yet for the event, but received no reply.

On Tuesday afternoon, I got a call from my dad. They found a new pair of the athletic shoes that I wear in a closet in my size that fits no one in their house. (My youngest brother lives with my folks and helps them out.) Sure, I’ll take them. My dad dropped them off at work. Not only are they my size, my model/make, they are the slightly older version where the insole is already glued in! Thank you, God! Man, that’ll save some headaches! Especially since the shoe isn’t currently available at Costco in-store or online! Yay!

Yesterday, also on Tuesday afternoon, I emailed Eric to see if he wanted to head over to San Jose again to play indoor. Unfortunately, he caught the flu going around. At least it’s this week and not next week leading up to our first tournament! Get better, partner!

Tragedy Strikes

My wife’s dad Ron underwent a routine heart surgery yesterday (Tuesday). While the valve replacements went fine using a DaVinci robot, complications have him in a coma due to a stroke. There were a flurry of phone calls since Ron was not coming out of anesthesia. They rushed him to a CAT scan which appeared normal—or so we initially heard, but later we heard of a dark spot (blood clot) in his brain. The devastating news is that the doctors don’t expect him to recover. My wife and I left the house about 5 a.m. for her last-minute 6:40 a.m. flight to San Diego to be with her mom and her sister. Ron is a wonderful and gregarious giant of a man, 6’2″ and barrel-chested, like a big teddy bear. 25 years ago, he graciously accepted me into their family as his daughter’s “new boyfriend” and has, very much, been a second father to me. (Next year is my wife’s and my 25th wedding anniversary.) We can only hope and pray for the best, but the prognosis is not good. It weighs on me.

Derby Park

I opted to go to pickleball to get my mind off of things, it only partly worked. Ron was never far from my thoughts. I arrived a few minutes after 9. Dave Allenbaugh and John P. were there finishing setup. When I told John—whom my wife and I have known for about 6-7 years—about Ron, he gave me a hug and told me, “Pass that along to Kristen.” (John was the one that got me into pickleball in the first place.)

We had a guest. An advanced player in his 40s named Sam hailing from Alabama. I was lucky enough to get a game in with Sam as my partner against Dean and Dave Cox. Sam and I won. Dave was not having his best day. One funny moment was Dave was serving from the odd court to me. I typically hit back to the server to give the longest amount of time for me to get to the kitchen line. One point though, I was thinking, “I don’t get to play with Dean very often and I want to take advantage of the opportunity.” So I hit the ball straight ahead to Dean’s backhand. I think Dean was shocked. He hit it back into the net! Dean got me though. We were dinking diagonally and he hit it wide, it switched the paddle to my left hand to get it but I mis-hit it. “It spun away from you,” came Dean’s explanation. Tricky!

I played a variety of games. Much later, I realized that in one game against Grita where we both had weaker partners, she was almost exclusively hitting to my partner! I generally don’t play like that. I just hit where strategy dictated by the assumption that the opponents are both equal. They aren’t, of course, but I want to get better. Avoiding the better opponent is not how to push yourself to improve.

“You are playing really well, my friend.’ said John P. after watching one of my games then playing with me.

Kevin’s wife Bev and I played against Grita and Mike. Bev and I lost our lead and the game by a couple points. Afterward, from his chair, Mike said, “You are playing well.” One things about that game though, Mike hit an excellent crosscourt shot to my left. I lunged for it and my left hip was not happy about the move. Nothing major, but it was a bit sore afterward.

I looked at the time on my iPhone. 11:42. There was a text message from my wife to call her. I often stick it out until the last players—sometimes until 1 p.m. on Sundays—but I left with three courts still going.

Livermore

I heard back from the Livermore person and he said they’d be sending something out Monday. But I have no idea right now if it’s going to work out with what’s going on with my wife’s dad. Family first. I emailed warning Eric and he was very understanding and supportive if Livermore doesn’t happen for us.

Number of days on a court: 125
Number of total hours: 357

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