I met this American guy here, Bobby, via a "Tennis in Prague" facebook group, and he and I played two friendly singles matches (with scores being something like 6-4, 6-2, 8-0 for me in the first one, and 6-3, 6-2, 6-0 for me in the second one). He invited me to play doubles with a Czech couple he's friends with last week, and we won something like 4-6, 6-0, 6-1.
He invited me to play doubles again last night, this time against two new guys. One of them — a French/Czech guy named Eric — was decent/average, and the other, a younger Czech guy named Josef ("Peppa" is the Czech nickname for Josef, for some reason), was really good, but made unexpected mistakes.
Eric and Peppa play together regularly, and play in ATTour men's doubles tournaments at the Sport level. They beat us in the first set 6-2, but I felt that the result wasn't completely representative, so instead of switching partners we kept the same line-up, and then Bobby and I beat them 6-2, 6-4 (after being down 1-4).
None of this matters, really, and even as I type it I feel eyes rolling. I mention it only because: a) it's flattering that Bobby has, twice now, invited me to join him and his friends in doubles; and b) satisfying that both times I was able to help him to a win, even though in the first match he was the second-weakest player on the court, and last night he was the absolutely weakest.
The particularly satisfying thing about it is that I felt, in both of these doubles matches, that although I helped one of the weakest players on the court to the win, I don't think I was the strongest player either time. In both matches one of the players on the other side was empirically better than me, with a much wider array of shots, more power, better serves (and better return-of-serves, etc.). My real strength on the court has always been problem-solving and ... eh, what do you call it? Well, the saying goes, it's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the ...
Of course, that's only worth so much. Lots of people beat me, with some consistency. Still. I generally hit above my weight, metaphorically speaking, in terms of both age and skill-level, and I take some pride in that.
I've also started thinking, though, about this entertaining 10-11 years of tennis starting to come to an end. My shoulder (particularly the nerve/muscle that connects it to my neck) really aches for 2-3-4 days after I play, now, and despite an x-ray and an MRI, nobody in Tucson was able to diagnose/identify the problem. When I play these matches I just can't serve with any real power, and better players are going to start teeing off on me.
And, even when I do play effectively, I then can't play again like that for almost a week. It's a little depressing, honestly. It may be time to start looking for a new hobby. I wonder if they crochet here?
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My stuff arrived yesterday, transforming this:
Through this:
Into this:
The excitement of the day wasn't shared equally by everyone in the apartment, it must be said. One resident decided the only option was to get behind the sofa and find the spot where it was closest to the wall, where she wedged herself in so tightly it was impossible for her even to turn around, really.
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| I'll just spend time here, thank you very much. |
Still, a good 45 minutes after the movers left and it became evidence that the calm that filled the apartment was not a false one, created only to trick unsuspecting cats, she did emerge.
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| Are they really gone? |
Liesel's coming from Vienna today to help me rip those boxes open and allocate appropriately. I'm very excited about finding my clothes, hangars, rugs, cooking utensils, pillows, duvet, coffee-maker, baseball caps, books, and everything else I've been eagerly awaiting for the past two-and-a-half-months.
And hoping Catalina will feel comfortable participating in the paper-shredding party with us.
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