Friendship on the Tennis Courts

A shorter post today, as I've finished my early-morning coffee at Miner's and am now about to go home, eat some yoghurt-and-granola-and-blueberries, and slowly get ready to go play some friendly tennis with Filip.

But on the subject both of tennis and of the relationship between strangers I wrote about yesterday, I thought it worth mentioning that for some reason the people I play tennis with here in Prague have been, with very few exceptions, super-welcoming, super-friendly, and super-polite, exhibiting a relaxed attitude during and immediately after the matches that I haven't always been able to match.

I've seen almost no racket-throwing from Czech opponents (the opponent who threw his racket four times last week was from Ukraine, for whatever that's worth), and I can't remember ever feeling someone purposefully made a bad call. Indeed, I can't remember ever seeing them be anything but super-generous with their calls.

Similarly, when they lose, I've never seen petulance or frustration (though I have no doubt it's there), and when they beat me they're always really gracious. (With the exception of one guy, many years ago, who came to the net and explained that he had played really badly and made so many mistakes — I wanted to say, "um ... are you wanting me to express sympathy here or ... acknowledge my good fortune that you didn't beat me worse?").

I suppose there have been some exceptions, here and there. One guy — Michal Horalek — was consistently unpleasant, and at one point in one of the first tournament I played in here, took out his frustration with me by yelling, late in the match, "that's not tennis!" ("to není tenis!"). I beat him then, in fact, as I almost always did — I'm 9-1 against him, which is probably the best record I have against anyone I've played more than 3-4 times. In his very next match, in fact, he yelled the same thing again, this time about my friend Oliver, who, in response, smashed a backhand winner and yelled, in Czech, "is that tennis?" (I've always wished I had the guts to do that). Anyway, Horalek was subsequently banned from the tournaments by going on facebook and ranting about how stupid and unfair the entire league is — it isn't — so he's no longer a problem.

But that's a super rare experience. Last week, in fact, the guy I beat in the finals, Milan Hart, was extremely friendly, even though: a) he had beaten me easily 6-1 in our first match earlier in the day, so it would have seemed somewhat unfair to him to see me all of sudden playing so much better; b) he said it was his seventeenth straight runner-up finish in tournaments, which is frankly remarkable; and c) losing in the finals is just damned annoying. He still laughed at the net, then, as I had asked if he could give me a ride to the metro stop, in fact gave me a ride all the way home in his shiny red Mercedes.

For some reason, most people at the tournaments think I'm really friendly too, though ... I'm not so sure. I don't throw rackets or make bad calls, certainly. But the later a match goes, if it's tight, the quieter and tighter I get — lots of internal dialog, lots of trying (and often failing) to defuse the tension. By the time I lose these matches, particularly in the semis or finals, I'm often so frustrated at myself that I can do little more than force a smile at the net, say "really nice match" through gritted teeth, and then go be by myself for five minutes. I'm not chatty, and I'm not really "happy for them" (especially if, as sometimes happens, they've yelled "yes!!" after hitting the winning shot).

After five minutes of brooding I'm usually fine, and back to my normal self. But that five minutes tends to be pretty standard, and I think, to the extent they think I'm really friendly, they're either forgiving that five minutes or ignoring it. Which, fair enough. It's not like I'm rude, certainly. And I'm never angry at them — just at God, who continues to try and teach me lessons even though I clearly got the wrong textbook. 

Anyway, it's just interesting. In that setting, you don't see the straight-faced, quiet, stand-offishness you can experience on the streets or in some stores here. On the courts, people are generally laughing and friendly. And it's part of the reason I've always enjoyed those tournaments so much, and was so looking forward to starting to play in them again once I got back. The good friends I made here all came from those tournaments — Ales, Filip, Oliver, Jiri — and, although that process can take some time, of course, even just participating in the tournaments can feel like you're with friends. They're welcoming, happy places. 

Filip, Oliver, Ales, in 2017