Alright, so let me tell you about my little adventure with this, uh, m damm tennis thing. It all started innocently enough, you know? Saw some folks on TV, looked kinda cool, energetic. I thought, “Hey, I could do that. Get some exercise, maybe meet some new people.” Sounded like a plan, right?
So, first off, I had to get the gear. Walked into a sports shop, and bam! Walls of rackets. Expensive ones, cheap ones, ones that promised to add wicked spin even if you held it backward. I just grabbed one that felt okay and didn’t completely empty my wallet. Then shoes, balls… the list went on. Already felt like I was investing in a small business.
Next up, finding a place to actually hit the ball. Public courts? Always packed, or you had to book them weeks in advance, like trying to get concert tickets for a superstar. Clubs were an option, but man, those fees! Felt like you needed a mortgage just to join. I eventually found a couple of slightly run-down courts nobody seemed too keen on. Perfect, I thought.
My First Few Swings… and Misses
Actually playing? That was a whole different story. I’d watch videos, try to mimic the pros. My first few attempts, the ball went everywhere but where I wanted it to. Over the fence, into the next court, sometimes nearly hit myself. It was comical, really. My coordination was, let’s say, less than stellar.
I decided I needed lessons. Found a coach. Nice enough guy, but he started trying to change everything. “Bend your knees more! Follow through! Watch the ball!” It was like learning to walk all over again, but way more frustrating. My arm ached, my legs were sore, and my pride took a beating every time I whiffed an easy shot. For a while there, I seriously dreaded those lessons.
Then there was the challenge of finding people to play with. You can only hit against a wall for so long before you start losing your mind. I tried:
- Putting my name down on some local community lists.
- Asking around at work if anyone played.
- Even considered just randomly showing up at courts and hoping someone would take pity on me.
It was tough. Everyone seemed to be at a different level, or already had their regular partners. It felt like trying to break into a secret society sometimes. You get these folks who are super serious, judging your every shot. Not exactly relaxing.
I remember this one time, I finally got a game with someone who said they were “intermediate.” Turns out their “intermediate” was my “professional.” I spent the entire hour just running back and forth like a headless chicken, barely returning a single shot. So demoralizing.
After a good few months of this struggle – buying the gear, fighting for court time, enduring painful lessons, and desperately seeking playing partners – I kinda hit a wall. I was spending more time stressing about tennis than actually enjoying it. The whole thing felt like a chore, not a hobby. This “fun activity” was becoming a source of pure frustration. Every missed shot, every unavailable court, every awkward interaction just added to the pile.
So, what did I do? I took a break. A long one. I put the racket in the cupboard. I stopped checking court availability. And you know what? I didn’t miss it as much as I thought I would. The pressure was off. I started walking more, just enjoying being outside without the need to whack a ball perfectly.
Eventually, I did pick up the racket again, but with a totally different mindset. No more chasing perfection. No more stressing about finding the “right” partners. I just started hitting with a buddy from work who was also pretty terrible. We’d laugh at our bad shots, celebrate the rare good ones, and mostly just enjoy being out there. We found an old, slightly battered court that was almost always free. It wasn’t pretty, but it was ours.
So yeah, my journey with tennis has been a bumpy one. It’s not the glamorous sport I first imagined. It’s hard work, can be cliquey, and honestly, sometimes it’s just plain annoying. But I guess I found my own way to deal with it, stripping away all the nonsense and just focusing on the simple act of hitting a ball with a friend. That’s my m damm tennis story, for what it’s worth.
