1527 The Racquetball Chronicles

Warning; This post is not for the faint of heart; it includes nasty details.

It is no secret I have been battling my tri-annual nasty cold for a little better than a week. Free and easy breaths are almost a distant memory. Not having a clogged nose is something I have heard of but have no recollection of. Feeling good...well, I simply haven't.

This in turn has led to added fatigue and a lack of desire to "do things". It has required extra motivation to hit the gym, play racquetball, etc. But I do not want to lose the progress I have made.

I worked so hard to get down to a manageable, reasonable weight that I will not let anything get in the way if I can help it. So twice this week...maybe three times?...I forced myself out of the house to play racquetball anyway and hit the gym.

Well, today is the best I have felt in a couple weeks. Busted through my weights doing towards the higher end of what I can lift and then 25 arrived.

I really enjoy my games with him because of a couple things; first, he has kind of the same mindset I have matured to in my later years; he would rather play, even if getting crushed, than not play. So we play to the last second we hold the court. Second, he is so quick and agile that we have some very spectacular rallies and it makes me improve because otherwise I will not get the ball past him.

First game is usually a blowout. Tonight not so much...we battled hard to a 15-10 outcome. That was a good sign because he gets stronger as the night goes on. However, a real problem started developing for me.
I was indeed "sweating it out"...unfortunately, that meant about half the time I had a big nasty snot bubble coming out of my left nostril.

This A) impeded My breathing, B) felt nasty and C) as I repeatedly wiped it off on my wristband, rubbed my nose raw.

So after the first game when both wristbands were completely soaked, I no longer had a place to wipe it...because wet wristbands do not wipe off snot very well.

So now I am thinking about the nastiness of my nose and wristband and my inability to clean out that snot bubble meant my nose started itching.

Meanwhile 25 was playing at the top of his game...he was hitting successful pinch shot after successful pinch shot, my passing shots he was getting to, and his serve was "on". I, meanwhile, was struggling with my pinch shots...I kept either skipping them short or hitting them too high off the wall and he was so energetic he was getting to every one.

At one point he was up about 10-4 before I came roaring back to close him out.

This was actually a bad thing.

I get in these mindsets where I think I can come back from any deficit, I just have to "turn it on" and I will win. Okay, fair enough. But the bad thing is, then I get lazy.

Shots I could get to I think about the energy required and slough off, thinking I will just get the next point instead. I also let my fundamentals go...instead of dropping down and executing a weight transfer step into my shot, I flick my wrist off the wrong foot, off balance and assume it will work.

Now, the good part about me is I was blessed with so much natural ability that I get away with it way too often.

The bad part is...I was blessed with so much natural ability that I get away with it way too often.

Well, naturally I showed just enough hustle to win 15-11.

Which only reinforced my bad habits. And again dug a hole, about 6-0. Then I tied it at 6 and ran away with it, i think he might have scored 7 that game?

We play a fourth and I am getting lazier and lazier...the fatigue is much more mental than physical. I look at the ball, know I could get to it, but let it drop knowing I will just win the next rally. I start trying the spectacular instead of the basic, high percentage shot. And ironically the beat-downs are getting worse, he scores maybe 6?

Well, now my game is completely shot; I am serving casually, not hitting fundamentally, and playing a guy who is getting better every game. I am doing a complete disservice to him.

Time for my come-uppance.

He starts serving and builds a 6-2 lead. I score a couple quick ones and he scores a couple. Then I get serious. No more lounging on his serves, no more letting balls drop. I started playing my level best, knowing an 8-4 deficit is bad.

But he was playing HIS best game too. I hit a gorgeous passing shot...he saw it coming and was in perfect position. He drives me to the back wall, I pass down the opposite wall...he is there and hits a perfect pinch shot. 9-4.

I cut off his serve and hit a nasty return an inch from the wall on his backhand. He scrambles back and somehow takes it off the back wall. I hit a corner pinch shot, he gets to it and rekills. How did he get to it? Phenomenal effort, awesome shot.

11-4, 12-4. I cannot stop him. I am trying short returns, ceiling returns, pinch shots, passing shots, lasers to the corner, medium speed...he is everywhere, seeming to anticipate my every shot before I hit it. It was incredible.

Finally he gets to 14-4.

I run off three quick points before he breaks me. I hit a perfect return, basically a roll-out. I get to 8-14. He breaks me again, I break back instantly.

10-14. 11-14. He can feel me breathing down my neck. I think I have the game in hand. He breaks me. I am not worried. I hit a near-perfect return...and he hits the most beautiful lunging back hand corner pinch shot I have seen. I lunge for it and come up an inch short. He EARNED that game.


I love, love, love that it happened. Now his confidence has grown and also his skills have; he is getting quicker and hitting the ball better. Now every game is going to be a challenge no matter what I do.

He loves it too, saying, "I love it when you play all-out. It shows me where I need to be." So except for being a bit light on my serves, I turn it up a notch. And he turns it up with me.

Now the volleys are crisper, with repeated rallies where each of us thinks they hit the winner 2 or 3 times only to see the other guy hit one more shot that is just better.

We get stuck on 6-6 for quite a while and eventually he tires just a hair. Now the ball he earlier was returning is an inch beyond his racket. I win about 14-11.

Then we go to 14-14, each having a couple serves with the chance to win it before I pull off a corner pinch shot.

Game 7 he seems to have tired. By now I am carrying a paper towel in my pocket that between points I blow my nose...like, between every point. It is just nasty. But I am having way too much fun because the games are so competitive. This is the game I have been looking for.

When we are just a step slow I am actually much better than when we are both at the top of our games. The extra time I have to take slows me down, I settle into the shot, wait for the ball to drop, transfer my weight, flick my wrist and hit kill shot after kill shot after kill shot.

Huh. Good fundamentals equals good results...

Meanwhile he loses the biggest single advantage he has...those lightning reflexes and foot speed to get to every ball.

Now I am standing in the middle of the court moving him side to side, front and back. Points come easily for me and he has to fight for every point. He does score about 10, but the writing is on the wall.

We have been at it for an hour and 50 minutes, we are both gassed but go one more.

Now my serves are scoring again, my passing shots get him, and his serve has lost that critical component...location. He musters 6 points but when I close out the night on a passing shot that turns into a kill shot with two short bounces, we are both ready to be done.

Fundamentals. I need to work on fundamentals. Wait for the ball to drop, step into it, aim at the proper location. Impatience is my downfall yet.

But man do I love this game!