I dropped down quite a few lines in hopes you would have a moment to be impressed, but common decency implores me to tell you the whole truth and nothing but the truth. The fact of the matter was that my mother entered me in the City Tournament Tennis matches. I don’t have any idea why she did that. I don’t think I even owned a tennis racket and I don’t remember showing any athletic ability.
Somehow, I showed up at the tournament, racket in hand, and ready to go. They teamed me up with another kid who was really good, but I couldn’t tell the difference between a tennis racket and a spaghetti strainer. I had no idea how to keep score or who should serve next or anything other than I was supposed to smack the dickens out of the fuzzy little ball if it ever came my way.
We played doubles against all of the other teams. My partner was a good server and he could return many of the balls that made it to our side of the net. I was an expert, too. I was really good at swing and miss. Well anyway, we won match after match, thanks to my excellent partner. I never did know his name or contact him after that. It would not surprise me if he went on to become a professional tennis player or golfer. He sure had the potential.
Even though I had no idea what I was doing, the experience was not wasted. I think being a “champion” tennis player, even in that very dubious way, encourage me to try other things. Within two years, I took up swimming, my first bowling league, water skiing and little league football.
Oddly, I never did play much tennis after that. I think I left my racket out in the rain and it drowned. Too bad we didn’t take up swimming together.
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