PICKLE BALL-ONCE AN ATHLETE ALWAYS AN ATHLETE
Thus,early on a crisp October Saturday morning I found myself entering a west end high school to learn the fundamentals of pickle ball. After registration and signing a waiver not to sue the sponsoring organization, I found myself in the middle of a group of seniors all anxious to learn the intricacies of the game. The beginner group as opposed to the intermediate group, consisted of a coed cohort,equal numbers of both sexes, ranging in age from early 60s to a petite senior-senior woman.
A gentleman, Patrick, who had played before, reluctantly took charge of explaining the rules of the game to us. Soon after we were divided into 2 groups of 4,assigned to a court and explained the boundaries of the court, For example, the net is 36 inches high, one of the rules I latter broke ,states there is no spiking(hitting the ball directly without letting it bounce, in the kitchen area(3 feet on either side of the net. The rule is there to protect the player from injury.
After a short warm up we were set to play. Dusting off my old athletic skills, I found despite the ravage of time, my eye-hand co-ordination was still operative, and the killer instinct alive and well.
In a totally inappropriate move, I entered the kitchen area, and blasted a spike that came within inches of decapitating my senior-senior opponent. Indeed David the athlete is back!
After realizing my indiscretion, in the interest of fair play, I scaled back my killer instinct, and a highly enjoyable time was had by all.
Afterwards, I apologized profusely to my senior-senior, and learned “Bunny” is 93 years young and a socially delightful woman.
The following day, I am beset with muscle aches I have not felt in 30 years. Nevertheless, I consider the days’ activities to be a roaring success and look forward to a long and fruitful career as a Pickle Baller.