Tuesday, September 18, 2012
"I Hate Tennis!"
Tonight I ran the Power Trail down to Harmony and back, and at the end of the Power Trail north of Harmony, it comes out onto the street at a little park with tennis courts at the west end. As I was running past the tennis courts, there were two boys, who looked to be about 14, inside the courts. One of them hit the ball really hard but wasn't too focused about where he was aiming, and as he smashed it into the fence, he yelled, in a raw, loud, dramatic tone, "I HATE TENNIS!"
It made me laugh so hard, and I said out loud, "So do I!". It reminded me of the days when I was that same age, having to take tennis lessons. I hated tennis. I always felt trapped inside a chain link fence, like I was in the zoo. So I got to relive some childhood traumas.
It all came back to me, what it was like as an adolescent, having a parent who is so out of touch with who their child is, that they would make them do things that they absolutely hated. Tennis was so confining, so limiting.
My mom thought tennis was the key to turning her recalcitrant, tomboyish, outdoor adventure-loving daughter who came home with scratches on her arms and legs from hiking through the woods, into a lady. I also think her motives had something to do with finding me a wealthy husband, thinking I might meet one through tennis.
"When are you going to be a lady?" was my mom's favorite expression.
"Never!" was my favorite reply.
I am proud to say that to this day, the only game of tennis I know how to play with any skill at all is Fart Tennis.
My mom tried too hard. It backfired...