Sometimes the score doesn’t matter
What’s the score?” I asked. “I dunno,” my partner said. One of the guys in the old guys’ tennis group had a dentist appointment and asked me to sub for him while the match was in progress.
We played a few points and, hoping to get a better fix on the match, I asked an opponent on the other side of the net: “What’s the score?” “I dunno, but I think you’re ahead”, he replied.
Even for us, that’s a little unusual, but in this case not knowing really didn’t matter. What mattered was that we were happy to be playing the game together. About 30 minutes earlier, John showed up and the group quickly arranged to get him into a game. He’s almost 92 and doesn’t play all that often anymore. He’s the most senior of us old guys and holds his own on the court quite well, even if he can’t run as much or play as long as many of the rest of us.
There are 25-30 of us old guys from the late 50’s to 91. We need that many to keep the group going. Someone’s always got a cold, too busy to play, out of town, or something. Occasionally someone new joins the group and someone moves away. The group changes with the seasons as some go south for the winter and a couple go further north in the summer.
Between 5 and 18 show up to play on three courts for 2 hours or so on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. We have a few unwritten rules of etiquette. Everybody that’s there plays. Better players adjust their games so that the games are competitive and weaker players aren’t taken advantage of or humiliated. The first four that arrive make up the first foursome. Stragglers wait their turns or play singles until a third or fourth shows up. Foursomes are arranged to be as evenly matched as possible. We switch partners between sets, trying to see that everybody plays with and against everybody else. Sometimes we play four instead of six game sets so that everyone gets about equal opportunities to play. When necessary, we take turns sitting out.
But, everyone plays to win: old guys are pretty much still guys. In the 11 years the group has been playing tennis together, two died, another got angry and quit the group, and another occasionally quits in a huff and leaves early but comes back again the next time we play. Occasionally, injuries keep someone out for weeks to months.
Sadly, a couple developed dementia and had to quit playing, a couple of others have gotten too lame to play.
The group formed about the time I stopped running and gave myself a 60th birthday present of tennis lessons. Fortunately, the guys patiently endured my learning to play the game.
Over the years, we’ve also become pretty good friends. A couple of times a year we get together for lunch and/or invite our wives and significant others to join us for dinner.
Old guys’ tennis is a group where dwindling skills don’t interfere with good exercise and having fun.
And, at least sometimes, it doesn’t matter whether or not you know the score.
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