Monday, August 01, 2011

Tennis Pros

GBM and I are trying to play tennis more regularly these days. Unfortunately he's lost his tennis-playing glasses. He has his day-to-day pair, which are super-stylish, but they fall off very easily. Not so handy when trying to serve. He used to have prescription contacts, but he hasn't bothered to renew those and would need a new appointment. So we have been hunting the house upside and down to find the missing pair that actually stay on his nose during sporting activity.

GBM is adamant that I have hidden them to ensure ongoing amusement on the court. I'm not admitting any form of guilt, but I can understand why he might think this.

You see, he's short-sighted. So when he plays tennis without his glasses, he spends a lot of time guessing where the ball is going to land and then playing based on that judgement and last-ditch reflexes. More often than not, he gets it right and he can play a decent game. But when he gets it wrong, it's hysterical. Well, for me anyway. Literally, incapacitating. I can't play for tears of laughter.

Take today for example. He was playing at net, opposite me. My partner lobbed him - GBM knew the ball was going over his head, he'd estimated the distance of where it would land on the court, but he couldn't tell exactly on which side of his racket. He scrambled and, at the last second, realised that the ball was on his left rather than where he was expecting it on his right... plus he had over shot it. This meant he had to do almost a full-360, like a dog chasing its tail, and played a forehand from under his left elbow. I'll be damned if he didn't actually get the flipping shot over the net and back to me. And it was a winner too, because I had already collapsed with giggles.

The last time we played, he similarly misjudged a trajectory - expecting a serve to land on his forehand, when it snuck casually past him behind his back. He still gave a good hearty swing on his forehand. God loves a tryer. Apparently.

I'm not saying I don't misjudge shots too. Cos I do. Lots. But I'm not nearly as entertaining. I'll fresh air a shot because it came too fast, or too wide. But at least I know what side it's coming on before it gets within a metre of my body.

What I wasn't expecting the one that hit me directly on my lumbar spine when GBM and I were on the same side. Square on the back, full speed, first serve. Was not expecting that, at all. It didn't stop me laughing at him when he did another hop-skip-swing-and-a-miss later. So I can understand why he would think that I've hidden his glasses... the entertainment value alone would be worth it.

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