Keep On Chuggin' 'Till the Rain Comes

Sets 30-31 (of 365):

C. vs. Stuart at McCallum High. Winner: Stuart 6-0, 6-2, 1-1

My Mojo: Above-Average

I won the bet I made with myself. The guy did show up. Now I owe myself money.

The weather had definitely changed from this morning. This morning it was clear and cold. It got a little warmer (not much, but a little) and wind and clouds were rapidly moving in. For some reason, the wind didn't seem to affect my shots much, and I was able to adjust to it well. I started visualizing vectors. When the wind vector was really long, I just tried to adjust my shot vector by the correcsponding amount, trying to think about the angles and so on. Of course, I wasn't doing calculus in my head or anything, just creating a visualization. But it seemed to work.

The last time I played at McCallum High, it was very windy also, and I couldn't really use the wind to my advantage at all. But today, it was all working well: lobs, ground strokes, volleys and serves were (for the most part) falling right where I wanted them to. There's always a little bit of uncertainty with the wind, and that was factored in.

My opponent was a lefty, a fact that I didn't notice until the middle of the second set (I need to be faster on picking up on that). No wonder his backhand was so strong--it was his forehand. Still, I maintained the upper hand most of the time throughout the set.

There was a moment in the second set when my opponent hit a shot that I thought I would never get to, and I called out, "Good shot" as I was running toward it, and then, to my surprise, it hit my racket and went over. I made kind of a gutteral sound of surprise, and he didn't hit it. He asked me if that was a double bounce, and I told him, no, I actually got to it, and it surprised me too. I didn't know how to handle that, if I should take the point or not. As I thought it through (spending probably way more time on it that necessary), one side of the argument was that I had never conceded the point, merely saying, "Good shot" to point out to my opponent that he had made a good shot, but then again, that statement could be seen as conceding the point, and when I said it, I didn't think I would get to it. Anyway, I thought the first argument was a little better. I decided to see how it played out. The game keeps going while I play through my head what I should have done, or should do. If I won by a decisive margin, it wouldn't matter to me, but if the set was close, I would feel guilty.

So he wins the next two points. If he had won that point, it would have meant that he wins the game, whereas now it was deuce. A little guilt.

I finally win the game, making the score 3-2. It would have been 3-2 in his favor if he had won that point, because he would have won the game earlier. A little more guilt.

I win the next game, leading decisively with 4-2. However, if he had won the game, it would be 3-3, and I wouldn't have a psychological advantage now. A little more guilt, and overthinking this whole scenario way too much.

I win the next two games and win the match 6-2. Fairly decisive result, so a little less guilt. And most of my guilt had been based on him winning the point, when if anything, at most it would have been played over if he called me on, what, my "verbal interference?" Guilt almost disappears.

I ask him if he wants to play a third set and he agrees. However, it is starting to sprinkle. He wins the first game, I win the second (an exceptionally long game with a couple of really good rallies), and by then it is raining too hard to continue. I offer to play again at some point, either picking up this third set or starting anew, and he says he'll probably take me up on it.

I figure my mojo was above-avarage because I dealt with the wind so well, because I played decently and won, and because I was pretty consistent throughout the match.

I've pretty much decided to take a week off from all responsibility, including the heavy weight of responsibility to play tennis. I realized around the middle of the week that the kids are gone with their mom and her family and I have a week off from work, and I'll be a slave to tennis for quite some time anyway, so I might as well. Didn't get to my 40-game goal by the end of December, but 30 so far is a decent outcome. Plenty of time to pick up the slack, and about 1/12 of the way toward my total goal is not bad. I only had one match set for next Wednesday, and I went ahead and cancelled it. I have no family responsibility Christmas thing happening, woo-hoo! Now I can do whatever I want for the next week.

I could dance around in my underwear while playing air guitar like Tom Cruise in "Risky Business" if I wanna. Or even dance around nekkid. Or I could sleep twenty hours a day and eat all of the ice cream (Rice Dream?) I want. I could wet my pants repeatedly on purpose. I could smuggle rocket launchers to Iraq. OK, that last option is highly doubtful. Note to the FBI: I was ONLY KIDDING. I'm not going to break the laws of about 10 different countries and the United Nations. Plus, I have no friggin' idea where to score rocket launchers. Even though it might be cool to have one. I can just imagine one of my girls taking it to school for a demonstration--"See, you just pop this cartridge in, steel yourself against the backlash (I bet they have one hell of a kick?!), squeeze this trigger, and WHOOOOSH!!!!" It would be the talk of the junior high, for sure, but would be likely to lead to some Federal prison thing. No, thanks, I think I'll seek out adventures that are legal, for the most part.