Two left hands

We hit the court again on Saturday. Our weapons of choice: one brand new racket for DD that we bought in Jusco recently, and two Kawasaki rackets from the 80s that weighed almost 5 kg each for DH and I. Okay, I may be exaggerating a bit about the weight, but not about the decade.

It was DH’s idea to take up tennis. We’ve been members of a particular club for almost 5 years but have never really utilised the facilities. So, to justify the subscription fees and in the name of exposing DD to the sport, we decided to give tennis a try. Besides, I could really do with a little bit of exercise.

DD was excited, as all kids do whenever they are about to try new activities. Soon it became apparent that she was more like me than like DH. See, DH is a natural where sports are concerned. Me? It turned out that I was born with two left feet and two left hands. Hand-and-eye coordination and I simply do not exist in the same universe.

My poor little DD gave up 5 minutes into the coaching session with DH. Instead she preferred to run around the court to help me collect the balls. My poorer DH kept on giving me encouraging words: “Good try! Good try. Gooood try.” He could not have been any kinder. In between collecting the balls and wiping my perspiration, I kept reminding myself that the objective was to help me get some exercise. It’s not about showcasing my talent (which I sorely lacked) or winning (which was 99.999% impossible). It didn’t help though that the 2 ladies on the other court were playing like pros.

Anyway, back to last Saturday. This time, DD decided that she didn’t want to play at all because “I’m tired”. So it was up to me to be the clown of the day. Sadly my game didn’t improve at all, which confirmed my suspicion all along that I wasn’t born to play any physical games. Half an hour into the game, DD suitably announced that she had to answer nature’s call. So the game was prematurely ended and we proceeded to the unplanned item on the agenda.

Will I play again? I think so. Since I need to do something about my vegetative state, I might as well do it with the people that I love who wouldn’t dare laughing straight to my face.