An engineer overthinks tennis in a daily journal.
2020 was supposed to be a banner year for me in terms of playing Cat 1 Senior Women’s National Championships. I was already entered in two events, and one of my personal goals was to play at one, if not both, of the National Grass Court Championships. Stupid pandemic.
The pinnacle of my return to tennis has been the opportunity to participate in Category 1 National Championships. Competing at that level is an amazing experience. The atmosphere and camaraderie at these events is everything tennis should be.
This weekends Fiend at Court Unplugged series was prompted by an inquiry from the National Women’s Tennis Organization (NWTO). The specific ask was for information and suggestions from former junior players, who stepped away from the sport but returned after an extended absence.
Yesterday I traced through the improbable events that brought me back to the immediate proximity of tennis. The junior tennis career of the umpire I gave birth to brought me into regular contact with tennis and tennis facilities. However, watching tennis is not the same as playing tennis. Today we examine the next leg of the journey.
I am a lifetime member of the National Women’s Tennis Organization (NWTO). Until very recently, that organization was known as the National Women’s Senior Tennis Association. As it turns out the use of the word “Senior” was confusing or possibly off-putting to some of the organization’s prospective members. “Senior” tennis starts at a much younger age than people generally expect.
Casual tennis fans are probably unaware of the business organizations that underpin tennis. It is important to understand that the Womens Tennis Association (WTA) and the men’s Association of Tennis Professionals (ATP) are separate business organizations. Each organization sets prize money and other compensation standards for their own tour events.
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In a recent interview on the No Challenges Remaining Podcast, one of the “Original Nine” players, Kristy Pigeon, indicated that she thought that the “Battle of the Sexes” movie accurately depicted the events of 1970. Despite that, it is important to remember that “Battle of the Sexes” was not a documentary. Creative license was exercised to weave complex events into a narrative structure to fit within a reasonable movie run length.
The most absurd thing I have ever encountered while pitching in to dry a tennis court occurred a couple of years ago at a USTA League Sectional Championship event. As I was picking up a court drying implement, I was accosted by a woman who attempted to prevent me from using it. It was the first and the only time in my life that I can remember being discouraged from helping out with a wet court.
Yesterday’s installment in the Fiend at Court “Unplugged” series lamented the fact that there isn’t a universal standard or etiquette for drying courts when it rains at tennis tournaments. Today I shift my attention to rain during regular season USTA league play. This is an entirely different dynamic.
Extolling the virtues of “The EGO Leaf Blower” earlier this week, brought back a wave of memories of my times spent leaning over a squeegee. A significant part of my junior tennis career was spent drying courts… for my baby brother’s impending tournament match. I don’t recall him ever returning the favor for me, but to be fair, I also can’t recall a time when I went further in a tournament than he did that would have precipitated (see what I did there?) that opportunity.