Fiend at Court Unplugged
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.
The NWTO has not been immune to the decline in adult tennis tournament participation. It is apparently that draw sizes have been on a downward swing for some time. In a recent email from that organization, a request was floated to the membership for information and suggestions from any player who found their way back to tennis after an extended absence from the sport. My brief 28 year hiatus places me exactly into the target demographic of that inquiry.
Additionally, the organization is interested in ideas on how we can increase participation in the sport for adult women. I feel like that is also directly in my wheelhouse. In true Fiend at Court fashion, if I am going to spend that kind of time in introspection and brainstorming, it is going to turn it into a three part “Fiend at Court Unplugged” weekend series. That is just the way I roll.
Pure Serendipity
The obvious inflection point that marked my return to tennis starts when an opportunity to play a tournament match was presented to me at an event that the Umpire I gave Birth to was playing. However, I don’t think that is actually where the story starts. First we need to explore why the child of a former junior tennis player was involved in tennis at all.
Since only one of my children played tennis, it may be a surprise to some regular readers of this site to learn that I have two daughters. When our children were still in their infancy we rather foolishly made the commitment that we would expose them with the same number of athletic competitions involving women as men. I don’t think it was ever really possible, but we tried. We also enrolled them at least once on all athletic youth teams available in our area.
One of my daughters gravitated to soccer. We coached her soccer teams for years until her interest in competing waned. My other daughter eventually reconciled herself with the fact that her parents were not going to allow her to play football and embraced basketball as her primary sport.
Both girls were exposed to tennis from a young age. Though it was never explicitly discussed, an absence of tennis in their lives may have triggered estate planning consequences from the umpire who gave birth to me. As I briefly touched on previously, tennis players tend to emerge from tennis families.
One of my kids clung to the fence during her tennis lessons, making it patently clear to anyone within literal shouting distance that she hated tennis. The umpire I gave birth to was fine with it, enjoying moderate competitive success and the glowing admiration of her grandmother. Those two have a tight relationship to this day.
When my oldest was in middle school, it became apparent that her height was going top top out at 5’9″ which rendered her basketball post skills and affinity for playing with her back to the basket as opportunity limiting. Faced with the choice of converting to a forward or switching primary sports, she opted for tennis.
Wheels in Motion
In an alternate universe, had the umpire I gave birth to drawn an extra three or four inches of height from her parental gene pool, I don’t think I would be playing tennis today. The Fiend at Court spousal unit most certainly would not be playing either. This is a real illustration of chaos theory. A butterfly flaps its wings.
In any case, that is why I started spending my free time standing flat footed at the net, feeding balls out of a basket and attending junior tennis tournaments. It felt good to have a racquet in my hand again. I never lost my love for the tournament atmosphere. I may have left tennis, but I don’t think tennis ever left me.
