Life On A B-I7

I played some competitive pickleball last night. It was a ladder competition. For those of you that don’t know what I’m talking about, that is where if you win you move up a court, if you loose, you move down a court. If there are 5 courts your goal is not to finish the night on court 5. My record for the night was 2-1-2-3-4-5-4-3. A mixed bag that showed some good play at the beginning and at the end of the night. (I was randomly assigned court two as my starting court.)

All of that is to just give you some context. I enjoyed the evening and my fellow players, almost all men certified at a higher level than I am) There was one exception. One fellow I was partnered with was clearly unhappy with my play because we lost and had to move down a court. Later in the evening I faced him as an opponent. I made some great shots early in the game and he said to me across the net, “Where was that game when we were partners?” I smiled and laughed. My partner at that time, who, by the way is a phycologist and therapist by profession, looked at me and said, “don’t let him talk to you that way.” I just smiled again. What made the contest ultimately satisfying was the end. My partner and I lost but as customary we all gathered at the net to tap paddles. I took my paddle and tapped my vocal opponent on the shoulder and told him, “I saved my worst game for the end so you could win.”

Do I feel bad for saying that, not really… I’m hoping my psychologist partner heard me…