72 Days In - My Sport

Being out of work gives you two options: to lie in front of the 800 channel T.V., eating snacks and feeling sorry for yourself; or to take advantage of the swathes of time available to you and achieve some things you have always wanted to do. Between hours spent searching computer-based what-nots for work, I am definitely tempted by the former path (and to be honest have succumbed more than a couple of times). But the latter is my goal, and to this end, Chris is teaching me tennis.

I have said for a long time “I would like to learn tennis” - historically British and easy to organise (as you only need one other person), it is an activity that reminds all of summer and strawberries and simply having a jolly good time. But for three years I lived a few hundred yards from free tennis courts, and not even that pushed me into buying a tennis-racket.

There are so many things that I would like to learn…

It is becoming evident that Americans, or at least Californians, like their sports. But they don’t just like to watch and talk about them, they like to play them, and discuss their own prowess. Suffice it to say I have felt ashamed a couple of times; “what is your sport?” is not an unusual question.

So what convenience couldn’t inspire me to do, shame has.

Chris was very excited at the idea of reviving the sporty lifestyle of So-Cal (that‘s “Southern California“ to those of us that speak the Queen‘s English). He bounded like a young boy onto the tennis court and said “right, lets start with a rally, just to get your eye in”.

Incidentally, I have tried to play tennis before, when I was sixteen., and I sucked at it. I never had an “eye” in the first place, so the idea of a quick “rally” before I even know how to hit the damn ball does not fill me with glee or inspire me to try. Chris’ bounce subsides somewhat as I tell him this.

I am (self-confessed) a terrible beginner. I do not like being awful at things. I know that there are those of you who will sympathise with this. But put it together with the fact that I am a teacher - and therefore think I know best how to teach anything - I am sure you are also feeling sorry for Chris.

The first lesson contained a fair few stomps, and at least as many frustrated yells. But, bless him, Chris is a patient soul, and has the ability to laugh at my childishness, even when I accuse him of being patronising after compliments and of telling-me-off when he gives advice. I am now pleased that he dragged me along to the second lesson, and soon (ish) I will have my very own sport.