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            On Election Day, my partner showed up for our match in a MAGA hat. 

            For the most part, I had managed to keep my tennis playing and politics separate. I live in a deep-red county in a red state, so my liberal views are in the minority. I’m at peace with this and am always pleasantly surprised when someone even insults a Republican policy out here. I’ve also learned that, out here, if I’m talking to someone who would be injured by Trump policies or his racist rhetoric, that does not mean that person is not a Trump supporter. It’s about 50-50. So I find the less I talk to people about their political beliefs on court, the more I can focus on tennis and keep folks at racquet-length. 

            So, Tuesday. My partner shows up to our match in a MAGA hat. She’s been a citizen for about a month. I wasn’t completely shocked by this display. When she sent out the last lineup of the season, our captain signed off with “Let’s Make America Great Again!” with some red, white and blue heart emojis. Then came an invite to election-night watch party, to which my partner replied, “My husband and I are garbage ...” When I checked in for the match, some lady was standing in the office saying, “He can do it, he can win!” As soon as she saw me, she tossed out an invite to watch results (not to me), and made a real quick exit. Earlier this summer when I went to sectionals, it was after Trump was shot at. There were women playing on the courts with bandages over their ears. 

            Anyway. My partner. She’s got the hat on and she’s just beaming. I wanted nothing to do with that hat on my side of court, but what was I going to do? Tell her to take it off? Not play? Nah, screw that. I came to play and if my partner wanted to dress up like a clown, then I just needed to step over the elephant dung at the circus. We won, and she asked to take a photo with me, as it was the last match of our season and we had been undefeated. I agreed. 

On my way to the car, I muted that group chat. I don’t make a secret of my political beliefs and as quick as I am about keeping the peace, the ladies on that team were just as quick to throw their beliefs in my face.  

I don’t have anything profound to say. Now that the results are in, it’s hard to say what’s different. I am surrounded by what I’ve always been surrounded by. I’ve seen Trump signs for the last nine years out here, solid. I am not a political sign person. I don’t have any Obama, Biden or Harris memorabilia, except saved newspapers from those historic days. I do have team sports jerseys, a couple. That what this is to a lot of people. If you look at it that way, then that’s a safe fandom, right? How often does your own team come to your house and tackle you, then dance in your endzone (the backyard in this analogy)?  

But here’s what I’m tired of not saying. Tennis is my sanctuary. I go there to play and take my mind off my life, to strategize. Even when I’m losing, I’m usually having a decent time and feel generally peaceful when it’s over. I can’t play tennis by myself and out here, the players are who they are. They believe what they believe. I can’t help that.  

I also can’t help that my family and I are originally from a place that would be considered a shithole country. I can’t help it that I remember Charlottesville, Virginia, and the immediate attempt at mass deportations. I can’t help that I remember his efforts to undo health care that covered more Americans that need it and the fact that he doesn’t have a plan for take care of those people, even now. I can’t help it that women have already been sick and dying because they haven’t been able to get the healthcare they need because he stacked the Supreme Court. I can’t help it that I’ve been reading about Trump for most of my life, being from New York. The mainstream media is not out to get him – he's been an awful and untalented, if privileged, man for as long as I can remember. I can’t help it – and I haven’t heard a compelling argument against this – that I believe that a vote for that man is a tacit approval of who he is and what he’s done and what he plans to do to the least of us. 

And what does it mean that there’s no tennis team I can join, precious few people I can even just hit with, who share my values in this deep-red place where logic seems impenetrable? Probably the most important thing it means is that these people are not my friends. They hug me. They ask after my family. They warm me up for matches. We joke and strategize. They’ve met my kids and been to my house. They invite me to lunch. They wear their ignorance and fear and hate on their heads and in our group chats. And I ... have been accommodating about it. For what? To make a point about not being judgmental?  

I don’t have anything profound to say. Because I’m not quitting tennis. But maybe I can apply what I’ve been told about tennis for years – to leave it, and these people – on the court. Then go home and find my people. 

League Watch: Mixed Opportunities

A couple months ago, I was feeling pretty good about my tennis game, but feeling kind of meh about the fact that for all the progress I'd made, my teams never advanced to sectionals. At that point, it had probably been nearly 10 years since I'd been on a team that advanced that far in a season.

But then, as I noted (and made a podcast episode about!), I joined my friend's team at the last minute and helped them have a nice showing at my first sectionals event in Florida. Little did I know then that I would be back at Lake Nona. I mean, like, in weeks.

I joined a mixed doubles team earlier in the summer and although there was only one other team in our group. Now, back in the day, I played a lot of mixed doubles. Mostly, I played with my ex-husband, whose kamikaze-style pretty much prepared me for any future partners (and opponents!) I might have. But I also played USTA, and in every division I possibly could. It was routine for me to play 7.0, 8.0 and 9.0 matches at three different clubs in the same day. (This was actually intentional and how I chose to live my life at the time.) But I loved it -- the fast pace and the knowledge that I was the worst player on the court and needed to be at my best for our team to win.

It has been a long time since I ate, slept and breathed mixed doubles and that was quite evident during my first match in this 8.0 league. I came into it with a fairly dominant record in doubles all year, so I was confident about my game. 

However. 

I played against a couple of old tennis buddies who I hadn't seen in years, both of whom I felt comfortable against, especially considering that my partner was a 4.5 player. But it became pretty clear that both my opponents had quite improved over the few years since I'd last seen them, especially the guy. He was killing me with his lefty spin and power and his partner was just being consistent. Not missing one thing. Myself? I was missing lots of things -- line calls because the ball was flying past me, volleys because the ball was flying at me and groundstrokes because ... you understand. My partner was also pretty error-prone that day and the first set was done in no time. Although I felt like I settled down in the second set, it wasn't enough and we lost it 6-4. 

It was a rude awakening for sure. Unfortunately, there's not much you can do about the lack of comfort with the increased speed and pace of a match outside of exposure to it. I knew I still had some good mixed doubles in me, but didn't really find it until about four matches in. But when my partner and I got into the groove, we were on. Which was good. The bad news was that we were only five matches in the season. And these matches were important. Whoever won the division would advance to sectionals. And we were going back and forth with them each week. Going into the last match, we were down to the wire. We were tied 2-2 going into the last two matches. 

The first match was against one of the aforementioned old buddies, the big guy with the lefty junk. I knew his partner was a solid 4.0, so I felt like we were going to be there a while. Fortunately, my partner gave me some good advice to counter his serve and his forehand (specifically, he said do not hit to the forehand. Good advice) and my groundstrokes that had gone MIA all season long were finally connecting. Team win.

So we really couldn't afford to lose the last match because when it came to head-to-head tiebreaks, we would have lost out. They were ahead of us in sets and game percentage. But the last match for my partner and I was the team we had lost to a few weeks ago -- a mother and son duo. The son was big and had huge groundstrokes and mom was steady. We lost in a third-set tiebreak last time, so, again, I felt this was going to be a long one. It wasn't. We won in straight sets and man did it feel good to play good mixed doubles again. I felt like I was comfortable with the pace and was able to slow down enough to find gaps in the court so we could make winning volleys.

As sectionals approached, we practiced together, but you never know what you're going to get out there. Plus, one of my partners was not available during most of those practices, so the first time we had played together since our utter domination in June was, well, at sectionals. First up was this wily team, with an older guy who was obviously holding out in warmups. His slice was particularly annoying and he was killing me with it, keeping me back on the baseline trying to get them back in play without giving his partner easy putaways. It wasn't easy. His partner wasn't easily intimidated by my partner targeting her at net. It took us a few games to get back in sync. I'd say I got scared straight after losing my serve at 4-all after a game that had to have been at least 20 minutes long and a dozen deuces. I got really pissed and started playing better after that. We pulled it together just in time to win the first set 7-5. It helped that the guy seemed to lose steam as well after that marathon game. After that, we closed out pretty easily. 

On the other courts, one line had lost and the other had split sets. Right after we had finished our match, it started raining. We had been dodging rain the whole morning but this downpour meant that was it for the day. On the outdoor courts. Our last court went indoors to play a set tiebreaker which they won before I could even make it to where they were. So, first day: Not bad. We were 1-0 and tied for first. Plus, without a Miami team to contend with (usually the strongest region in Florida), things were looking good.

Day two! Our first team up was also undefeated. The highest-rated team in each of our four divisions went to the semis, so beating this team would be helpful. Our opponents were a shorter lady with a cream-puff serve and a guy who had a very good spinny serve, just enough to keep us pinned where we didn't want to be. Picking on the lady in this setup was definitely the right move. But she was a tricky one. She was consistent with her returns and also extremely chipper, which, I'm sorry. It's 10 a.m. and I don't do that in the morning without caffeine. I still feel like the attitude was strategic and designed to annoy me, which was successful. She was VERY nice. 

The match had the potential to be a spicy one regardless, because right away, our opponent called my partner's serve out, which did not look out. He circled a mark. Our teammate watching courtside let out a low whistle and our guy on the other side got defensive. "We're gonna be like that already?" he said. "With the sportsmanship?" Which wasn't the right term anyway, but also? How are you going to circle a mark that shows that YOU WERE WRONG and then have the nerve to get pissy about getting called out?!

Anyway, we won the first set 6-4, and it became clear that the other two matches were over because our teammates were now sitting courtside. We knew the team next to us lost, but we didn't know if we still had an opportunity to win the match. My partner noticed our teammates nearby and promptly said, "I don't want to know what happened." I didn't either because I didn't want to get tight if it was 1-all. But I went back to my bag and overheard my opponents saying that they had already won the match. Bummer. I didn't tell my partner, but we went back out, determined to take advantage of the momentum of our strong play towards the end of the first set. 

Which did not exactly go well. We started out pretty flat and made some dumb mistakes and before we knew it, we were down 4-1. We pulled it to 2-4 and came up against the guy's serve. I realized during his last serve game that he really liked hitting that spinny serve down my middle on the deuce side, and the bounce was really high. I could manage that much better on my forehand side but this guy never hit his serves out wide. It was a risk, but I decided to stand closer to the midcourt so I could get around that spin, and hope that if he did go wide, I could get to it. This change in position kept us in his service game and before we knew it, we were in a long battle for this game, with multiple deuces. We did not win that game, even though we came close several times. Obviously, if we had, it would have made a huge difference -- serving at 4-3 feels better than 2-5. That last game didn't take long, and then we were in a tiebreak. We were up 5-1 and 5-2 in the 10-point tiebreak, and then it just fell apart. That chipper lady really came up clutch at the end with some key volleys. Team loss. Boo.

So, we were at 1-1 but hey, not totally out of it yet! If we could win and the undefeated team could lose, we still had a chance. We had about 90 minutes to reset -- and all of us were playing in the next match. I, for one, was ready. I wanted to beat someone's ass and our next opponents seemed up for the whupping. Actually, I had no idea how they played and we didn't need to know because the guy pulled up lame and we won by default. The rest of our team wasn't so lucky and we took a tough second loss.

Still, we had a great time out there and I definitely discovered some things I could still do to improve my doubles game. Our team was missing our captain at sectionals because she and her family were out of town. With the event happening so close to the airport (like, super close. We had to stop serves at times because planes were roaring overhead) she was able to rejoin us as the last match closed, so we got to leave as a team. It wasn't the result we wanted, but we had a great time out there and we do intend for utter domination next year.

For me, believe it or not, I will be back in Lake Nona in December playing sectionals in a league that I did not realize was a serious league. More about that in the next League Watch.

U.S. Open: When You Don't Fill Out a Draw

            I fill out a draw for just about every major, even if I don’t publish it (which is almost never). This time, I didn’t -- believe it or not, I forgot to do it even though I have my two weeks worth of excuses about why I can’t possibly be at work at all these next fourteen days.  

I wasn’t prepared for how freeing it is to watch tennis when you haven’t tried to predict the future. Oh, Carlos Alcaraz lost in the second round? Didn’t see that coming! Oh well. 

I don’t think anyone’s winning money off their original men’s draw this year. 

Seriously, I don’t know if it’s time to worry about Alcaraz yet. That seems silly even to write – he just won Wimbledon. He’s got four majors and he’s what, 21? These flameouts happen to everyone and it’s probably nothing to worry about, given that he’s still so young and that losing to Van De Camps will teach him something. That said, watching him lose last night was perplexing. Not only was he making bad decisions against a guy who was obviously dedicated to attacking the net the whole night, but his concentration seemed very inconsistent. I can’t think of the last time I saw someone down two sets and a break making a great shot and celebrating like he had just brought up match point. If he was going to win, he still had so much work to do. And then he was following that up with making wild errors. It was just odd to see. Sometimes I think he is dangerously close to upsetting the fine balance he has displayed so far of showmanship and tennis guile. I mean, I love the shots and that he is often giving the crowd a match that is worth every dime in watching.  

Orrrr, maybe it’s too much tennis. The day after Alcaraz lost early, it was Novak Djokovic’s turn to lose a four-set match to Alexei Popyrin. Both Djokovic and Alcaraz medalled at the Olympics. Which in the grand scheme might be worth it for them, but the real gift they’ve left is this wide-open men’s draw – a world where Frances Tiafoe has as good a chance as Brandon Nakashima to make the final.  

On to the women. Here’s another “is it time to pull the emergency cord yet” question: What is up with Elena Rybakina? I couldn’t help but notice that she barely made it through her first-round match against someone she shouldn’t have had much issue with. In fact, I’m just going to say it: That was the ugliest pro match I have seen in some time (no offense to Australia’s Destanee Aiava – I mean, sometimes you have a bad day). But whoa, it was bad. It was like reverse tennis – both of them trying to see who could make a mistake first. But then Rybakina withdrew from the tournament. By my count, that’s six tournaments she’s withdrawn from this season.      

Other than Rybakina, the higher seeds of the women’s draw are holding up well for now. But that probably won’t be the case by the end of today. I look at this draw as it is and feel as if Jessica Pegula has a really good chance to make her first Slam final. I’ll be watching Coco Gauff’s match against Emma Navarro pretty closely too. Also, a quick shout-out to Paula Badosa, who has been injury-ridden lately, but is now in the fourth round. By the way, it took me a good year to figure out why, when I watched a Badosa match, I’d find myself chanting “Fair is fair!” after one of her winners. Then it dawned on me.

    

            You might call her match today a “do-or-die" situation. IYKYK  

League Watch: Sectionals (This is Not About a Couch!)

As Commodus from Gladiator might say, I’ve been a busy, busy bee. 

Anyone who has been reading this blog with any regularity knows that I have had a few major tennis goals lately, all centered around getting better. At first, it was improving my win/loss record (done), and then it was getting bumped up to a 4.0. That one has not been so easy. And buzzing around in the background has been the desire to play at sectionals. That one has also been hard.  

 I’ve been playing tennis for well over 20 years at this point. When I lived in Pittsburgh, I was on a great team of fun ladies and we went to sectionals not once, but twice. However, the experiences were not great ones for me, and instead of going on about it here, I’ll link to the blog posts I did way back. Summary: I won one match in two years. 

OK BIG ASIDE HERE, SORRY.  

Apparently, I have never documented here what really happened in my first sectionals match in 2008 that derailed that match for me. So I have to do it now. My well-matched opponent? This lady? 

 

 

Part of the reason things went sideways in the first set was due to a line call. She hit a ball (late in the set, I think, before the tiebreak) that missed the sideline, so I called it out, right away. She didn’t like the call, but I affirmed it and moved to get into position for the next point. She stood where she was and stared me down. Knowing me, I probably started sputtering to explain the call (which I would never do now) but she kept looking. All in all, she probably did this for 30 seconds. Then she looked at me and said, “You better watch it, girl.”  

Right?!  

That’s why I completely went away in that match. I have never forgotten that and, yes, I did just look her up on the USTA website, and if I’m ever in Allentown, Pennsylvania, Ms. You-Know-Who-You-Are, just know I always have two racquets and tennis shoes in the trunk of my car.  

OK TIME IN. I CAN’T BELIEVE I NEVER WROTE ABOUT THAT HERE. 

After that, I got bumped from a 3.5 to a 4.0, never really feeling I deserved it, and never really quite doing well at that level, either. So I appealed back down to a 3.5 and that’s where I’ve been for the last five years or so. In the last two years, some things in my game definitely came together and I started actually winning matches. A lot of them. So much so that last year, I was sure I was getting bumped back to 4.0. I mean, I went undefeated in singles for the whole season, across 2-3 teams. But it didn’t happen. So I signed up for 3.5 teams and also some 4.0 teams the following season. And I felt great about my game’s forward movement but I wanted to go back to sectionals, and especially here in Florida.  

Why. Sectionals are held in Florida at the USTA National Center in Lake Nona and it is beautiful. This thing is so highfalutin’ that matches are streamed on the internet! So heck yeah I wanted to do that! The problem was that although I was playing well, my teams as a whole were not advancing – there’s some tough competition out here in Florida, so I was not getting there like that.  

However. The USTA started this tournament called the Golden Ticket – tournaments all over the state where you enter individually, either as a team or in doubles. If you win, you have an opportunity to advance to sectionals! After four tries, I did do well enough in one of them to advance to sectional playoffs, which was not Lake Nona yet. But my doubles partner had an injury, so we came up short. Brief aside about these Golden Ticket things – the format is shortened sets and no-ad scoring. Tell me you only kinda want to play tennis without telling me you only kinda want to play tennis.  

So. It’s June and I’m thinking there’s no way I’m getting to sectionals this year and making my peace with it. I was picking up 4.0-level wins, so at least I hopefully had that to look forward to. Then I got a text from my friend Kim, inviting me to join her 3.5 team for the second time. I turned her down the first time because I was already playing too many teams and had determined I wasn’t doing 3.5 teams anymore. But the difference this time? Her team’s season was nearly over and the team was going to sectionals. They were also down a singles player and needed someone asap.  

I picked up my phone to politely decline again, but then I thought about it. Kim was offering me a ticket to sectionals and all I had to do was play two matches. And I was free sectionals weekend, too. What’s the reason not to? Other than feeling like a freeloader. But they were asking me! I told her I would think about it just to make sure my schedule was free and then by the end of the week, I was on the team!  

It wasn’t the smoothest start to the team – I lost my first match in a third-set tiebreak after holding a match point (I’m still a little upset about this one and am quite looking forward to playing my opponent again)  – but we made it to Lake Nona. (That was my first 3.5 singles loss in about two years and I am still feeling a need for vengeance. Speaking of antics, here’s one: It’s hot. I’m pouring water down my back to stay cool and apparently, I left a few drops on the other side of the court during the changeover. DURING MY SERVICE GAME, my opponent stopped play to go get a giant squeegee to wipe up 10 drops of water. I am just saying.) 

The USTA National Campus was everything I heard it was – massive and beautiful. The umpires didn’t joke around with warmups and opponents were tight on line calls. It was also ridiculously hot. The previous weekend, some of our players went to sectionals and reported sweltering conditions that possibly required a fan and definitely days of hydration prep. Folks were apparently cramping so bad that they were eating mustard to alleviate the symptoms. (Yeah. Mustard. You learn something new every day.) I came prepared with this stuff called Liquid IV, containers of coconut water and a spray bottle I could fill with ice-cold water on-court if things got tough.  

Our team drew the 7:30 and 11:30 a.m. slots and as much as I hate waking up that early to play tennis, it was better than the alternative. I know this because I got a taste of the alternative right away. My first match was at 11:30 against one of the Miami teams (we will get back to them), which is one of the stronger areas in the state. Obviously Miami is a big population base, so a better selection of players. Polk? Not so much. So we were the underdogs. I still think my opponent was rope-a-doping me. It was already hot out with almost no wind, sun blazing and as soon as I hit a shot more than two steps away from her, she would just give up. I got an early lead, and was hoping to be off the court quickly but then all of a sudden, this lady decided she felt great! She’s getting to my drop shots, which I had decided didn’t need to be that good. Hello! Anyway, just before we get to the tiebreak, I realized I was very nervous. It was hard to get a deep breath. I thought to myself: “All this time you wanted to get here and you play like this? You play like a [expletive deleted] [expletive deleted] [expletive deleted]? Like, why are you even here?” That helped. I realized I needed to play my game instead of worrying about what this lady was about to do. Before I knew it, I’d won a lopsided tiebreak and a relatively easy second set. But it was a mental roller-coaster. 

After the match, my captain asked me if I wanted to play the first or the second match the next day. That is what I heard. I said, “Put me where you need me, captain!” And I learned later that I had volunteered to play both matches. I had an out, of course, and I could have said no. But again, what did I come here for? I came to play! Woot! 

That was the excitement I carried into my second match, which I won in straight sets against a familiar opponent. This was good because even though we were done by 9, it was already starting to feel like a soupy, gooey mess out there.  

When I took the court for my second match of the day, it was hot. It was also well after 11:30 because the women from the (I have to assume) the 9 a.m. match on our court were still slugging out a singles match and were knotted in a tiebreak. And neither of them looked super thrilled about that fact. I thought one or both of them were gonna pass out.  

So it was already egg-scramble sizzling by the time my last opponent and I took the court. But I felt pretty fresh. I’d taken a cold shower, had some food, was somewhat hydrated and felt that all I needed to do was keep drinking water/coconut water, as I did the day before, and I would be all set! That was true. For the first set and a half of the match. I had won the first set, but was having trouble pulling away in the second. Unfortunately, my opponent had started to pick up on my game, so now our points were longer. At 4-all, I realized the heat was starting to get to me. I was having a hard time reaching up to the ball during my serve, I was trying to end points too early, and I started to feel just a touch overheated. And of course, this – THIS – was the time my opponent decided to really pick things up. One second, I was up in my service game, and the next, we were into multiple deuces. Despite my early-onset heat stroke, I realized that it was in my best interest to win that game. If she got to 5-4, things would get messy and I realized I was in no condition for that. I appealed to my brain for some thoughts on how to win points and fortunately, it was alert enough to notify me that I should really stop hitting to this person’s backhand. I managed to survive the game and the elements, then the match.  

Overall, the team finished in the middle of the pack, and honestly came up on the wrong end of tiebreakers sometimes. That’s frustrating but you don’t just find yourself materializing into a tiebreak in a tennis match. We were doing the right things, playing smart tennis, and sometimes, the bounces went the wrong way. But the best part was that this team was fun. They supported each other – and other teams from our region. They offered up on-court fans, water, and camaraderie. If I had lost all my matches like my first swing through sectionals up north with this group? I would have been a happy (if bitter) teammate. 

Not everyone is that lucky. Remember when I said I’d get back to the Miami team? Well, the lady I played against was lovely. Everyone else reported having a good experience on court. However, it came to our team’s attention that the captain of the Miami team made a social media video berating her teammates for being social with their opponents. I believe the title was something like: “Are you a Walmart greeter.” It would have been one thing if she had been going after us for being nice. But for her to go after her own team for being nice? After a match they won?? Some people forget we are playing an over-40 tournament and maybe save that spice for something that matters. 

Like making fun TikTok videos with your badass team.