A Collection of Tales

A Tennis Tale


In the world of tennis there are three very distinct categories, rankings, if you must be clear.
The Beginner, whose efforts leave very much to be desired. As a beginner you have no
“strokes” nor any appreciable “style.” The only thing you have as a beginner is a sense of … hope …
The Intermediate, where your strokes, style and hopes are starting to surface into some semblance of form.
Next, are the Advanced players, that is the ranking when all three facets of the game come together and you play a very decent game of tennis, with a good deal of satisfaction and or pain, because pain is a very integral part of any sport that you engage in.
I am the penultimate Intermediate player, whose ranking fall between a 3.0 and 3.5 with no discernible degree of proficiency . In other words I am a hacker. My tennis game is not so much a “game” but a constant battle with myself, my racket, the ball and lastly my opponent. To say that I have not the most consistent type of game would not in the least bit of exaggeration but the honest truth.
There are times ( mostly all the time ) when my hands and feet are working totally against each other. In a game where hand, feet and eye have to work in concert with each other I fail miserably. I also cannot seem to find the right racket for me. They are either too light or too heavy or the strings are either too loose or too tight. In other words, I am a mess as a tennis player.
I have struggled for many years, trying to gain some semblance of craftsmanship of this game, but as of this moment I remain just another … Hacker …