I Play Pickleball Now

 

I play pickleball now.

 

Dan got me a set of paddles for my birthday. 

 

He was probably tired of hearing me sigh every time we drove by the courts popping up all over the surrounding 'burbs.

 

"I miss playing tennis. You never play tennis with me," I lamented. "I wonder if pickleball is as much fun." 

It is.

 

Benny, my seven-year-old nephew, taught me the basics in our driveway while he was visiting one weekend. At one point, the ball rolled into our street as a pickup truck rounded the corner, and I almost got us both run over. 

 

Don't tell his parents . . .

My husband, Dan, and I eventually scoped out a few nearby courts. The trick, however, was finding an empty one.

 

We discovered that if we went to the more conservative neighborhoods on Sunday mornings, especially those close to an evangelical church, we could usually find an open court. 

The courts nearest us were always full on Sunday mornings. I wonder what that says about our neighborhood. #heathens

One Saturday evening, I ran into a friend of mine who attends my church, and we talked about possibly seeing each other between services Sunday morning.

I texted him the next morning, "Nevermind. We decided to go play pickleball instead of going to church again 😆."
 

I also texted my dad a similar message, "We're going to play pickleball instead of going to church. The only way we can find a court is to go to church-y, conservative neighborhoods on Sunday mornings. And we're extending our summer before choir starts in the fall."
 

"Nice. Pickleball is the next step to old age," was his response.

"Dan and I are fierce at pickleball," I replied. "We don't look like the other old people playing around us."

 

Now, who's ready for some badass pickleball? 

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