Tennis Lessons

Ok, so I am kind of an impulsive person. I think of something, get it stuck in my head, and then I have to do it right away. Well, I have a tennis racquet but have no clue what to do with it. I got it several months ago because my friend and I were going to learn how to play but never did. The fact that I never use it didn't bother me until about a month ago. I was cleaning out the trunk of my car and found it again, where it had been since like September when I failed at my first attempt at tennis. Well, ever since then, I just HAD to take tennis lessons.

I looked online and found a place that offered them and so I signed up. Well, last night, I took my first lesson. I was so excited. I went with my pretty pink racquet in hand, just waiting to display what I thought would be my one true natural talent. So, Coach Mike (which I was hoping would be a hot, blonde, 20-something, Swedish guy, but no such luck) showed us forehand and backhand stroke and then set up the practice tee. I was the fourth person "up to bat." I took my ready-stance...circled my swing...and "Clank," I hit the metal part of the tee with my pretty pink racquet instead of the ball. Coach Mike demonstrated the so-called "correct" way to hit the ball and encouraged my to try again. So, I wind up and "CLANK," I hit the tee again but this time even harder. Coach Mike just smiles and says maybe I'll get the hang of it when he starts hitting balls to us--it was a pity smile.

I was a little shocked; how dare I not be wonderful at something! To make matters worse, when I went back to stand with the group, I inspected my pretty pink racquet and there are now several dents in the frame. Stink! So, I watch everyone else go (some of which hit the tee even harder than I did). I did a bunch of practice swings and then I thought "ok, I SO get this now."

So then, its time for real balls. Coach Mike hits them to us...I see the neon yellow blur coming towards me...I get anxious...I swing...and all I get is air. A few more air balls go by; at this point, I'm starting to think that tennis may not be my forte. Coach Mike hits another ball to me, and I hit it almost perfectly (well, relatively perfectly)! After that, I had only one more air ball. He said that I just kept getting better, and I said, "Well, just look where I had to start from...anything is an improvement from airballs."

My next lesson is Thursday. We'll see how much I retain. I have absolutely no natural rhythm, so I have to think a lot about where to put my feet and how to move my arms. Coach Mike told me to follow through with my swing and I ended up hitting my own backside with the racquet. I'm not the worst one, I'm somewhere in the middle. There are these two older "Plano-ie" women (aka trophy wives) wearing these cutesy little tennis skirts showing everyone else up (okay, maybe that's just jealousy talking because I suck at tennis), but still, I have to know that I can actually hit the ball before I sink anymore money into tennis. I'll keep you posted on my progress!