Make Mine a Double!

A MIXED Double, that is.

Hubby and I have joined the mixed doubles tennis team at the local country club. 

And just to clarify, Hubby is waaaaaay better at tennis than I am.  Surprise, surprise.  Because really, who isn’t?  But in my defense, he’s got some physical advantages that help.  First off, he’s 6 feet 4 inches tall and has the wingspan of a pterodactyl.  AND he’s a former collegiate baseball pitcher*.  This means he can hit the ball HARD!  I’m glad he’s on my side.  Also, he played tennis in highschool.  And when I say “he played tennis in highschool” I mean that he would hit the ball around at the local park with some highschool buddies during their summer break.  From highschool.  But that’s all the pro heard when she first met him – that he “played tennis in highschool,” and now he’s ranked a level higher than I am.  What?  What the WHAT??!  

But before we joined the mixed doubles tennis team, being the Tennis Dope I am, I had to seek clarification from the tennis pro, “Uh…when it says MIXED, that means it’s different skill levels, right?  ‘Cause we are.  We have.  Different skill levels, that is.  So this might be for us.”

To her credit, the pro replied with a very calm, “No….‘mixed’ refers to genders.  Whenever you see ‘mixed’ in tennis, that means it’s going to be different GENDERS.”  But I could tell it was said in the same artificially composed tone of voice a kindergarten teacher uses right before she starts smacking heads.  This is why I could never be a kindergarten teacher – or a tennis pro.  Too much head-smacking.  Which would hurt my arm.  Which already hurts from tennis. 

Anywho, this week-end, to really kick our Mixed Doubles Tennis Effort off in style, we played in a Mixed Doubles Mixer.  (Come on!  The name alone implies there was gonna be tons of alcoholic bevvies.  But, nope.  Nuthin’ doin’.  Turns out the only drink being offered was SoBe water in cough syrup flavor.)  But pay that no never mind.  What I really wanted to say is that Hubby and I ended up winning.  YAY!!!  But it was mostly due to Hubby starring in the role of Gorilla At The Net.  He can knock those teeny tiny planes outta the sky like nobody’s business.  And from where I was standing (waaaaay in the back…almost completely OFF the court…kinda like I wasn’t even playing at all…and was just WATCHING everyone play), I could see his shadow stretching up, up, up and over the net and creeping across half the opposing side.  Boom!  BOOM!  BOOM!!  (That was the sound of him walking onto the court like King Kong.  Me funny.)

Admittedly, there were only two other couples playing.  And there may have been a few rounds of Rock, Paper, Scissors to determine standings.  Also?  The husband of the first couple served his ball right into his wife’s back at the beginning of the match which…uhhh…totally pissed her off and disrupted their loving married couple vibe for a bit.  (There may have also been swear words.  But we’ll keep that private.  What I will tell you, though, is that the other wives present used it as a teaching moment for their respective spouses.  The teaching moment started with: So help me, if you EVER do that to ME…) 

It also bears mentioning that the woman on the second doubles team is recovering from a broken heel bone and plantar fascia tear.  But screw that!  That’s not my problem.  I don’t care HOW banged up ya are.  I’m here to win!  Do you have a pro?!  ‘Cause I do.  And she says I’m here to win.  Which means you could bring on the whole cast of that “Spirit of ‘76” painting – including the dude with the bloody head bandage – and I’m gonna do my best to take ’em down.  I’m in it to win it!  As long as I’ve got my trusty pterodactyl ape-man by my side.  Well, that…and some well-timed Rock, Paper, Scissors.  


*One time I went with Hubby-Then-Boyfriend to a Zephyrs game.  Remember the Denver Zephyrs?  They were Colorado’s baseball team before the Rockies were a speck on the horizon.  I’m FULL of fun facts, aren’t I?  Funny AND Full o’ Fun Facts?!  Whatagal!  At the game they had this caged-in area where you could measure your pitching speed.  (You see the similarities now, right.  CAGES??  Need I mention more?)  So HTB climbed in while scratching under both arms simultaneously (ooh-ooh!  aah-aah!) and pitched a few balls, the fastest of which was 93 MPH.  A star-struck boy standing outside the cage and holding out bananas looked at HTB in awe and said, “Wow, Mister.  You should play for the Zephyrs!”  In summation, I am glad Hubby is on my side.  Because I wouldn’t wanna face THAT across the net.  He’s got the power!  And you know what THAT means, don’t you?  It means…I’VE GOT THE POWER!  [“I’ve Got the Power” by Snap!, released in January 1990 – which is close enough to the 80’s so as to actually BE the 80’s.  NOWWWW who’s got the power in this little game we’re playing entitled “80’s song for every moment in life?!”  Yep.  I thought so.]

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