As we were packing up our house, I came across my tennis racket. I haven’t used my tennis racket in about a decade. In fact, when I say “my racket”, I actually mean the hand-me-down racket that boyfriend gifted me because I discarded mine years ago in Calgary when it had already been sadly neglected for close to 5 years. Suffice it to say, I haven’t played tennis in 10 years, so when I came across the tennis racket and had to decide whether it came to our temporary rental or went into storage until we move into our new place, the decision seemed obvious: send it into storage.
My thought process went something like this: I haven’t played tennis in 10 years. I don’t have anyone to play with, anyways. Where would I even play? It’s almost winter. I’m rusty and out of practice. It takes up too much space. The list goes on and on. All I can say now is: rookie mistake.
As it turns out, there are tennis courts all around me. There are some right across the street. There are other nearby courts. Worst of all, just 1.5 km from our house, there is a court with a practice wall! This was the most devastating of discoveries because the practice wall eliminates my most significant obstacle: having no opponent. It also doesn’t help that we’re having a gloriously sunny and mild Fall so far, which makes me want to do nothing but get out there and dust off the old backhand.
Now, every time we walk past a tennis court, I stare at it longingly, and imagine my poor tennis racket stuffed in a box with other fitness gear, never to see the light of day until next Spring. I think about how I could be getting my (supremely mediocre) game back in action. I imagine my former hustle, lightning fast chasing down balls. My whole game used to revolve around my hustle. When I imagine all of this lost opportunity, I kick myself and wish that I’d had the foresight to anticipate that the magical confluence of free time, neighborhood parks and balmy autumnal weather could resurrect my game.