Kindred spirits

I entered the latest tournament as the 2nd seed...my highest ranking yet. I had a Friday night 1st-round match, but decided that a few pints with friends before the match was a good idea. "It's just the first round" I said. I've beaten 1st round opponents with my eyes closed. Well, of course I have...I've been getting 1st round byes for months. I can't even remember the last time I had to play an actual person that early on in a tournament. Just my luck though. The unranked guy they drew to play me was a top level player, who simply took some time from tournaments and thus lost his ranking.

My opponent was my age, had the same fancy bag, same racquets, the latest attire, the walk, the talk...you name it. As soon as I saw him I was like, "pffff, another phony like me". So, I called his bluff and we had a hell of a match. The problem was he did the same and eventually got the better of me. After the match, he asked if I'd practice with him sometime. I guess it gets pretty lonely for us phonies at this level...too good for the amateurs, not good enough for the pros. I lost my match that day, but I gained a friend. Hey "friend", that was my match you PUNK!

Fan Q & A

With my training temporarily on hiatus, I've had time to reflect on things I brushed off in the past, so I'll take some time now to play a little Q and A. Here are my replies to some of the things I've been asked over the years:

Q. Dear Sensation, what was the oddest thing ever thrown onto the court while you played?
A. I once had a tournament in a war-torn region of the country, Scarborough, known for daily gun battles, gang executions and drive-by's. In the middle of my match a car sped by the courts, and the next thing I know, I hear a loud SPLAT only steps from me...an exploded apple, sending juice shrapnel in all directions, hurled granade-style over the fence from the passing vehicle. Yes, a real life drive-by fruiting...way before Mrs. Doubtfire. That'll make your heart skip a beat.

Q. How are you with autograph seekers?
A. Late one night leaving the courts after everyone had gone home, I saw a fellow banging on a lightpost with a baseball bat. I figured he missed the autograph session earlier and was trying to get my attention. Tennis players don't normally sign baseball bats, so I took a ball from my bag instead, gave it the ol' scribble, and whipped it at the guy as hard as I could as I drove by. You gotta love Scarborough!

Q. Are you an introvert or extravert?
A. Yes.

Q. Are you Irish?
A. No!?!

Q. Are you Ganesh?
A. No!?!

Q. So, do you play tennis? (ok, let me explain. I was asked this question in all seriousness by an older man I was talking to at a TENNIS tournament, in my TENNIS gear and RACQUET in hand, while warming up with my TENNIS opponent)
A. No, I'm just here for the enlightening conversation.

Q. Can we use your tennis court to play? (asked two timid ladies sporting badminton racquets).
A. No, you don't have proper equipment.
Q. But it's the same thing
A. Well so is China and Hong Kong, but still, No...please go now!

Q. Can I play here, even though I'm not a member, nor do I have a racquet or tennis shoes, or skills? (asked a scantily clad vixen, with exotic eyes wearing flip-flops and a mini) 
A. Of course, come on in, make yourself at home, you can use mine :)

Q. My baby has your eyes!
A. That's not a question! Next.