At the weekend there, Fliss and I played tennis at our (very) local sports club. I’m an old hand, as it were, at tennis – up until losing my raquet by leaving it in my room at university, I played quite regularly, using the practice wall at my club if there was no one to play with. Fliss on the other hand has hardly played the game in her life, so our contrasting techniques are plain to see. (i.e. she’s more crap than I am!)
A year ago in July we managed to play down in London on the hottest day of the year – not a comfortable experience and not a day that lent itself to chasing after fuzzy yellow balls, either. Coincidentally, Saturday just gone was one of the hottest days we’ve experienced in this neck of the woods, so it seemed kind of ironic that we’d be out trying to chase the same fuzzy balls all over again. The end result was that we gave up after half an hour or so – the heat was just unbearable.
So, last night we played again when it was a bit cooler and it was a much more fun experience. It sometimes amazes me how quick a learner Fliss can be – initially she was kind of swatting the ball aimlessly, but after I showed her the mechanics of how to play a controlled stroke she was able to hit the ball quite consistantly. (And I’m not that great a teacher either!)
I was pretty pleased for her, as there’s nothing like being crap at something to discourage you from doing it, so hopefully now that she’s gaining a bit of technique we can venture out more often.
I have to add that we were playing on grass too – with all the weird bounces that brings it adds an extra level of difficulty. Hence I have high hopes of us having a decent game on the hard courts when we can be bothered walking the extra forty yards to get to them. :o)
