Category: Pickleball (Page 237 of 326)

Thursday, May 9, 2019 (Court Day #264)

Day 25 playing left-handed. Tennis elbow.

So, I get home from work for a pitstop on my way to pickleball in Scotts Valley. I was sporting a headache so I had a good excuse to leave work right at 6 p.m. and have my (subordinate) manager close instead of me staying late like I often do. I had visited the hardware store at lunchtime and picked up a replacement rubber seal for our home’s toilet tank’s filler valve. It was running, so I turned off the valve when I left for work that morning and told my wife about it.

I cut open the rubber seal package, popping out the seal. I took the lid off the tank and placed it on the toilet lid. I popped off the valve top to get to the seal…

BOOM!

There was water shooting EVERYWHERE! I jammed the valve back down as best I could with my right hand and urgently reached down with my left to turn off the valve. Yep. It needed to be closed. My wife had turned the water back on!!!! There was water sprayed on the wall, on the shower door, on the floor, on the bottom of the medicine cabinet, all over my face and jacket—everywhere! “Oh, I had to use it.” (Um, there’s a second bathroom outside our bedroom door, 10 feet over.) *sigh* Yes, I should have checked first, but still… oy.

Skypark

I arrived at about 6:40 p.m. It was still light and just over 60 degrees. It’s been getting dark after 8 p.m. these days. There were four or five courts set up. The game right by the entry gate just happened to need a fourth player! Nice! I teamed up with a regular named Susan. I had seen her on numerous occasions but never learned her name. We played against Melody and a woman I’d never seen before. Susan and I beat Melody and her partner. Susan and I had taken a solid lead, let them almost catch up, then finished them off. Even lefty, I was playing quite well. I’m getting to the point now where sometimes I don’t even bother to explain I’m right-handed. In harder games, I will usually tell my partner at the outset and. sooner or later, my opponents.

I’d decided yesterday that I am going to play the Cabrillo Tournament. To hell with my official USAPA rating. If it goes down because I’m playing lefty, it goes down! It’s all about fun, right? That’s the bottom line. It’ll be Binh and me, though I hadn’t told him so yet. I told him tonight and he is ready to go. “How do I sign up?” I explained the process.

Binh and I played against two women, April and another one, I think she said her name was Diane. Binh and I split up, I took April. It became apparent that both were weak players. Binh and I were hitting lollipop shots to keep the ball in play. Afterward, I found out that it’s was April’s first time out! And probably the other woman too. Good thing we took it easier on them! I felt bad for a few of the shots I made! Had I known, I would have played easier earlier in the game! Oops.

Binh and I played against Melody and Greg. We should have clobbered them, but lost 13-11. Midway though the game, Binh suggested stacking. (Mel accidentally called it “poaching” twice though corrected herself each time.) We did mess it up a couple of times, with the wrong person receiving/serving—deadly in a tournament—but once we did stacked, we started scoring points at a rapid clip. We played much better with our two forehands in the middle.

Binh and I played another game against Oleg and a woman I didn’t know. Oleg was the far stronger player. There were some shots that I should have let go that Oleg powered as drives that would have sailed out. But there were some strong drives that I managed with my left hand just fine. I played ok. Not ideal, but for a lefty, pretty darn good. I’m making progress for sure.

Binh and I had our last game against Mark G. (Maree’s husband) and firefighter Rob—my tournament partner from the Golden State Championship last year. Even with me playing lefty against two solid players, Binh and I were neck and neck against them, eventually losing 11-7, but it as a battle. I had this amazing backhand drop shot just over the net from the baseline corner off a lob from Mark. It was a thing of absolute beauty. I couldn’t have hit it better with my right hand. Binh and I were stacking in that game and did a far better job of it. If I got confused, Binh was right there to get me in the right place. If Binh got confused, then I was right there to point to the correct spot for him. It worked well.

I do need to figure out something. Rob made a couple of shots toward my left armpit and I tried to hit the ball with my paddle pointed toward the net. This is crazy. That’s the least possible surface area for the ball to possibly hit! I ended up getting whacked in the index finger knuckle—it felt like a bee sting! (Yes, I’ve been stung by a bee, though it’s been almost 40 years . . . one never forgets though!) Granted, it’s a “chicken wing” shot that’s hard even from one’s dominant hand, but the angle of my paddle has to be better. And some of my drop shots are still falling short of the net. I have to dial that in.

My serves continue to get stronger. Yes, I missed three of them tonight, but they are getting deeper and are continuing to be more consistent. There were also a few high shots were instead of successfully slamming them, they sailed long out the back of the court—paddle angle!

My right ankle bothered me a couple instances tonight. Not particularly painful, but I noticed it briefly, other than that it was fine. It’s been acting funny the last week or two. And my back is doing better. It wasn’t as fatigued tonight.

With the next outing, I will have played 10% of all of my pickleball days playing left-handed instead of right-handed. A quirky milestone that I never dreamed I’d have. Four months of varying frustration as I start over using my left arm.

Holding out my right arm fully straight still hurts. Then bending my hand up at the wrist and flexing it back toward my elbow causes more pain. I think I’m getting noticeably better, but then that test dramatically indicates just how far I have yet to go before I’m back to normal. I think I might be better by August, but after that test . . . I don’t know. Another six months? God knows. Maybe it’s better if I don’t know now long it is. I’ve pretty much settled into the notion of making the best of it as it is. Playing left-handed. I’ll just get as good as I can get. When the time comes, I’ll switch back. And there’s plenty yet to do to get as good using my left as my right. Plenty.

Postscript

At 11 p.m., after writing the above, I got a call from our business’s alarm monitoring company. Fire alarm. From the same sensor that had a false alarm while I was in Spain. I immediately drove to work. Yep. False alarm.

SCFD Engine 3113 calling it a night.

I apologized to the very nice and understanding firefighters. So much for them—or me—getting to sleep in a timely fashion. Oh, well.

Number of days on a court: 264
Number of total hours: 723

To start at the beginning of this blog click on “1st Post” in the menu above.

Sunday, May 5, 2019 (Court Day #263)

Day 24 playing left-handed. Tennis elbow.

It was 52° and overcast when I left my house for Derby Park. The weather prediction was dreary. (My wife is the mistress of weather—if you want to know what’s going to happen, ask her!)

I got to the courts a full 15 minutes before opening time but Mark (Maree’s husband) was already there. Janet was the third one to appear. Cal was the fourth and soon we were in a game.

Cal and I later played a game against David and Beth Black. We took a lopsided loss, but we did make the Blacks work for their win.

Beth and I played a game together as partners later. She matter-of-factly stated, “I didn’t realize earlier that you were playing left-handed.” This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten this comment from people. If I hadn’t made so many errors, I would take it as a compliment. As it is, it’s a bit of a bummer that people don’t notice the difference. I know that I can tell!

The sky cleared and it became almost perfect pickleball weather. If it was just a little bit less breezy, it would have been truly perfect. Still beautiful.

Allan and I played a game against Chris and George. Allan and I won. While I still had my share of errors, I made some points that I would have been proud had I done them right handed, let alone left-handed. Digs, poaches, slams. Nice. Allan commented afterward, “It’s going to be interesting when you can start playing right-handed again.” Will I switch hands more readily to make shots? I don’t know. There’s still an awkward feeling playing lefty.

We got a treat today, young Tom and his girlfriend Ileana (“Ill-lee-ahna”) appeared again after many months. They are always upbeat and Tom can be a crackup. (He may have a more nutty sense of humor than me and that’s saying a lot!) They said they are still living in Los Gatos and haven’t really been playing pickleball at all. We got into a game with a fourth player, Jeff. We were deciding on how to split us all up. I told Tom, “Even playing left-handed, I’m better than you are…no offense.” Smiling, Beth Black called over from her chair, “You didn’t have tell him why!” Oops. Sorry, Tom.

The four of us played five games. Me and Tom, Ileana and me (3x), then finally Jeff and me.

Ileana and l lost 11-3, then 11-4. I smiled and said to Ileana, “We gotta keep going, we are making progress each game.” Jeff laughed and said, “Another nine games and you’ll have it!” It didn’t take another nine, it took one! We pulled of an unexpected win on the third try.

For the last game, my partner Jeff played left-handed too. I was very impressed with his serves. I think they are better than mine right out of the gate! Jeff said he used to play ping pong left-handed. He wasn’t quite as strong with the rest of his game, but still decent, considering. The youngsters beat us by a few points. I was expecting to win even with both of us handicapped. Kudos to Tom and Ileana.

Tom told me, “You’ve gotten a lot better.” I exclaimed, “I’m playing left-handed!” “But you are a lot better than when I last saw you.” Then I went on to explain that I’d been playing a whole lot more than he has and he’d be better too in similar circumstances. It’s true though, even me playing lefty now would have easily beat a newbie version of myself.

It was 12:45 when the last game finished and it was time to go.

Cabrillo Tournament

As we were about to leave, Binh bought up the local tournament in August. He said that Manny had also asked him as a partner. I asked Binh what his age was. “47.” That means that I’d have to play in the “Open” bracket instead of 50+ and 60+. I’m 51, and playing Open doesn’t bother me one bit. I relish the competition. I wish there were no age brackets. Right or left handed. Binh said it would be his first tournament and he was fine with me playing lefty if that’s what I’m still doing come August. He also said that Kim was hoping that they’d get 250 players for the tournament. That’d be big! I have to give this some thought. If Binh and I are eliminated quickly—a likelihood if I play lefty—then my UTPR will go down. The USAPA has no idea that I’ll be playing lefty, and from what I hear, won’t care. Injuries are irrelevant. If you play hurt, you take your chances on your rating. I do want to play. Hmmmm…

Tuesday, May 7, 2019 (No Play)

I had a 9 a.m. physical therapy appointment this morning.

Ruby worked on my right shoulder, right wrist, and right elbow. The good news is that she said the shoulder was improving and to continue doing the exercises that she’d given me previously. I will say that my shoulder is sore afterward, as expected as that is!

Even from Sunday night, I’ve been dying to get back on the court. I. Want. To. Play. Unfortunately, it’s looking like there won’t be enough staff tomorrow morning for me to play. Putting food on the table and not stressing out the remaining staff (if I were to play) is important. So, maybe Thursday night. And possibly Friday morning.

Number of days on a court: 263
Number of total hours: 720.5

To start at the beginning of this blog click on “1st Post” in the menu above.

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

To start at the beginning of this blog click on “1st Post” in the menu above.