I pulled into Brommer Park at 9:00 sharp. My car thermometer read 51 degrees. But it was sunny. I headed to the courts in a T-shirt and shorts. When I got to the planter (which acts as a bench), I pulled out my ankle brace and put it on.
I got to warm up with Dan Bliss. Dan’s still recovering from some serious joint surgery and has to limit his play. He was very personable and kind when we warmed up. (Not abnormal, by any stretch.) I was doing very well with my dinking.
I played an early game with a tall man named Harry. He’s a strong player. I think I’d seen him once before, he’s not a regular. There were quite a number of unfamiliar faces today. Maybe a dozen people that I didn’t know. It was an odd feeling.
The surprise of the day was Kim’s friend Cathy and I beat Leslie and Steve 11-4. That was a real shocker. I was playing well.
Kevin and I played a game against George and Art. Or maybe it was Harry and George or Harry and Art, I can’t remember. I was expecting a lopsided game, but instead, Kevin and I found ourselves having to make a comeback to win. I did get a big smile from Kevin when we walked off the court.
There was a pleasant surprise, Rob, my partner for the Golden State Games, who’s been AWOL for months appeared today. He said he’s just been working a lot do he hasn’t been playing pickleball. That and when the waves are particularly great, he surfs. We got in some games.
Eric asked if I was going to play in the Paso Robles tournament in March. I told him I hadn’t thought about it yet. He said the registration starts on the 2nd. I asked if he was looking for a partner. He said no, that John P. asked him to be his partner now that Eric qualities for the 60+ bracket. I told him that they should do well.
The last games of the day were Binh and me against Steve and Rob. We lost every game. I figured Steve and Rob were the strongest opponents, so I’d asked Binh to play with me. I don’t mind losing as long as I’m challenged.
The last few games my ankle was starting to consistently bother me. I was dragging.My tennis elbow was worsening to the point where nearly every shot hurt.
When we finished the last game, I was stunned at the time, 1:35 p.m.! No wonder I was dragging and my ankle and tennis elbow were painful—I’d been playing for 4 1/2 hours! I was going to be very late getting to work. Oy.
Saturday, December 29, 2018 (No Play)
Today, my right arm was very sore. It gave me trouble. Even last night, just resting my arm on something, it was aching. Not good.
This afternoon, after seeing the suggestion in an old discussion thread on the Pickleball Forum on Facebook, I went next door to the sporting goods store and bought a 3-pound weight. (I asked for 2 pounds as recommended, but they didn’t have any.) Tonight, I rested my forearm across the corner of our dining room table with the weight in my hand. I slowly dropped my hand, flexing at the wrist, and lowered the weight. Boy, did that hurt! I lowered and raised the weight about ten times. I’ll need to continue doing that on a regular basis and strengthen the muscles, tenons, ligaments and whatever else is messed up.
Number of days on a court: 237
Number of total hours: 651.5
To start at the beginning of this blog click on “1st Post” in the menu above.
I tried to find my ankle brace last night but had no luck. I still had no luck this morning so I opted to risk it and play without it. I was slow getting out of the house. I got to Derby Park about 9:30, a good half an hour after the start of play. Very unlike me, but considering I’m still fighting this lingering cold, I should get some slack. Work was closed today, taking Christmas as well as “Boxing Day” off—as long as I can remember, the family has closed both days to give a break to ourselves as well as to our staff.
It was partly cloudy with the sun peaking in and out. The temperature was good, starting in the mid-50s and climbing into the low 60s.
Rick and Eddie on the near side of the near court.
I played an assortment of games. Nothing much to write home about. I had a distinct lack of energy. The illness had tapped my endurance. My tennis elbow is still a problem—particularly with overhead slams. Those hurt. I’ve avoided slices since those have proved painful. Still, I played pretty decently. I missed some drop shots and the net tape was too often a magnet for the ball, but not bad.
My right ankle held up ok, barely bothering me until the last game. Then it started to hurting with even some more routine movements.
Eric and I played Oleg and Art, Art being the weakest player. I do have to say that Art is continuing to get better. He’s one who is easy to underestimate. Boy, Oleg does not like to lose. When he’s on a team that is losing game and he makes a mistake, he’ll often verbally berate himself. He’s a great foil since he’s a stronger player, but when he gets heated, even though it’s not directed at anyone else, it can get slightly uncomfortable in the game. It doesn’t last long though. Not too long after the game is over, he’s back to himself.
Play wrapped up at 12:20 p.m.
I think I’m going to see a doctor about my tennis elbow. It might involve some physical therapy. Craig’s wife Leah said today that it took a very long time for her to get over it—a year, she said. Ouch!
I’m getting used to to the clear proteticve glasses. It’s annoying when the sun pops out when you opted for clear glasses instead of sunglasses, but regardless, I’m going to continue to protect my eyes after that close call a few weeks ago.
Number of days on a court: 236
Number of total hours: 647
To start at the beginning of this blog click on “1st Post” in the menu above.
Last night, I got out my last roll of grip tape and added a outer later to my new Prince paddle handle. I’ve been meaning to do that for a couple of weeks, but this time I remembered before I got to the court!
My wife said rain was predicted today at 1 p.m. I got to Derby Park at 8:50 a.m. under threatening skies.
To protect my eyes from injury—a hot topic lately—I got out my cheesy freebie bright silver plastic glasses that’d popped the lenses out of. They continued to garner amusing comments from nearby players.
New Glasses
Stuart asked again about the effectiveness of my cheesy freebie bright silver plastic glasses frames. I told him it’s been busy and I haven’t been able to get to a store yet. He said, “I bought you some safety glasses.” I was thinking, “Please, God, may they not be those nasty yellow-tint things!” He then produced a pair of crystal clear wrap-style safety glasses with black and yellow accents. They looked pretty good. “How much do I owe you?” “Three bucks.” That’s reasonable. I played with them a few games then fished out three one-dollar bills from my wallet and gave them to to a happy Stuart along with a “thank you”.
Allan and Karl yapping it up about something.
Return of the Tennis Coach
Bob Hansen, who had been my college tennis P.E. tennis coach in the ’80s, came again today. He said his friend Jack was coming soon, who has a pickleball court installed on his property. (Boy. I’d love to have that!) Bob and I got to play a game together against Allan and Olga. We dispatched them in short order. Bob, teaching tennis for decades, has great hand-eye coordination, ball handling skills, reflexes, footwork, and ball placement. He still learning the finer details of pickleball, but he’s already above average. I made a winning jumping overhead slam to Allan’s feet. Bob gave me some compliment, to which I replied, “I learned that from my college tennis coach.” (Honestly, I don’t remember, but it’s likely we covered overheads back in the day.) “Well, I’ll take credit for that. It was a beautiful shot!” A nice pat on the back! I have to say, it’s an odd feeling—but a good feeling—to be playing on the same court as an equal some 30 years later with one of my former university tennis instructors.
From the left: Jeff, Charles (white hair), Ron (black shirt), Tom, MaryAnn, Eric, Dave Cox (white shirt), plus Kim, Craig and his wife in a visual lump.
Surprise!
Oleg was signed up in a box in red. Eric and I added our names. Now, we just had to wait for a fourth to sign up in our box. That fourth would be Grita. We’d have a strong game. Nice. I figured Eric and I would split up but Grita wanted to play with Oleg, plus she thought Eric and I were still practicing as tournament partners. (We may play again as partners, but Eric isn’t super keen on tournaments and he’s also going to hit 60 soon and wants to play in 60+ age brackets . . . I have almost a decade before I can do that!) Anyway, it would be Eric and me. Boy. This game was a shocker. Eric and I played very well and we took them down 11-4. Wow. It might be a “one off” game but still this would have never happened a year ago. We’ve come a long way.
Rules
Dave Cox yelled over from a game where he was playing with Bob and Jack: “What’s the rule when the ball hits the crossbar on the opposite side?” I called back, “It’s a let!” Dave knows that I have read the rulebooks several times. (I say “rulebooks” because there was a new revision issued this past January, replacing the one that I first started with.)
End of the Day
The last two games were Binh and me against Grita and Olga. I told Binh, “I’ll play with you . . . that way you can’t hit me in the face!” (Last Sunday, Binh drove the net volley that bounced off my paddle and into my left eyeball.) “That’s no guarantee!”, he laughed.
My right ankle was starting to hurt whenever I turned it a certain way during the game. And I was starting to drag; I was tired. I was approaching 4 hours of pickleball. We only had about 35 players today, so wait times weren’t particularly long between games, so there was a lot of court time.
Binh was behind me while I was at the kitchen line. Next thing I knew, a returned ball whizzed by whacking me in the hose on its way across the net! “Binh! You hit me in the nose!” “I told you!” I played up the injury as much as I could. It was pretty funny.
Sparse large raindrops appeared on the court, still threatening, but that was the extent of it. The rain wouldn’t come until well after the 1 p.m. projection, but it would certainly come this afternoon.
Play was done at 1:20 p.m. Long day at the courts.
So, how was today? Far better than Friday, that’s for sure. My play is back to normal, it seems.
Awkward
I’ve been debating posting about this but it’s a learning lesson. I was in a game today where a serve landed very close to the line. A receiver will always have a hard time properly judging a ball that close due to the angle of approach. It will often fall to the partner to make the line call. As a receiver’s partner, it’s up to you.
Well, I served such a ball that landed close to the baseline. The receiver couldn’t make a proper call but his partner was “eyes forward” and not following the ball. This is silly for two reasons: 1) you need to be able to make the call; 2) by watching your partner’s return from the baseline, you can determine earlier if and where you need to shift along the kitchen line and be in the best possible strategic position for the third shot*. When the receiver suggested to his partner, “I need you to watch the ball so you can call those,” the partner defensively and angily countered, “Don’t tell me how to play!” After a brief pause, to avoid an unpleasant finish, the receiver announced he was forfeiting the game and walked off the court. It was an uncomfortable situation.
*I’ll note here that some teams pick in advance where the ball will be heading on a service return, Typically, that’s a given player, but sometimes, it might be always back to the server.
We all need to be humble, especially as in this case when your partner has been playing pickleball for much longer than you and maybe even has tournament experience which you may not have. Sometimes, we forget this thing we are playing is a game. G-A-M-E. It’s supposed to be fun. Sheesh.
Monday, December 17, 2018 (No Play)
Ow. I did a real number on my right ankle. Last night, even while rolling over in bed, I had to be careful to not put twisting pressure on my foot. Walking is generally ok—though an occasional touch of pain—but turning or rotating on the leg is painful. Sometimes, I feel like I’m falling apart. Tennis elbow, twisted ankle, sore lower back. Ugh. There are two ways to play pickleball . . . like a 90-year-old or like a 20-year-old. I’m far from ready to give up playing the 20-year-old version!
I’m constantly listening to pickleball podcasts, reading pickleball posts on Facebook, viewing pickleball photos on Instagram, and watching pickleball videos on YouTube. Instructional videos and articles are becoming less useful to me as time goes on—I’ve been exposed to most concepts at this point of almost two years into playing. Today, Barrett of Pickleball Kitchen uploaded a new video. This one on dink volleys. It has some good key points and it’s a “fast” 10 minutes.
Barrett sent me a friend request last week after I commented on Facebook in a discussion on pickleball podcasts—and, of course, I approved him! (We’d emailed back and forth a few times previously.)
Saturday, December 22, 2018 (No Play)
Running a retail business the week before Christmas, there has been no pickleball for me. Plus I caught a bug and have been fighting a sore throat for a few days. The big annual Santa Cruz Pickleball Club Christmas party was last night but I didn’t want to make me everyone sick, so I had to send my regrets to the fearless leaders. Today, my throat is much improved, but drainage is now an issue and I’m having to clear my throat and cough frequently. I hope it’s not one of those illnesses that drags on for weeks and weeks. Those are super annoying. I had one last year like that.
My tennis elbow is really flaring up. Simple things are causing pain. Not fun.
Sunday, December 23, 2018 (No Play)
I went to bed feeling less sick, but woke up with my throat feeling worse. Bugger. So much for playing for an hour before needing to be work at 11. I had asked John P. to close Derby for me today and texted him asking if he could now open too. He immediately called me explaining he had a bit of an “emergency” with relatives coming but his heater had stopped this morning. So I emailed Stuart who had conveniently replied to a site coordinator group email just minutes before. I asked Stuart if he could come by 10 a.m. then stay to close. He said he’d do that.
I got out of bed, threw on some clothes and when I got to Derby Park, Tom S. had already unlocked the bins and was setting up—nice. I loaned him my charged battery to blow off the courts then collected it when he was done. As I was leaving, Stuart walked up wearing the brightest fluorescent orange shirt. “If I’m going to be the site coordinator, I want people to see me!”
Being sick may have been a blessing in disguise, since my tennis elbow—even without playing—had gotten worse. There has been little to no improvement in the last month. It’s pretty miserable.
Number of days on a court: 235
Number of total hours: 644
To start at the beginning of this blog click on “1st Post” in the menu above.
Recent Comments