Beautiful weather today, mid-to-upper 60s when Z and I hit the courts at a little before 11. The first set was interesting. He went up 2-0, then I fought back to be up 3-2, then he closed me out 6-3. As we were hydrating before starting the second set, Adam tells me that I had won only 2 points the last four games. Which was odd, because I didn't feel all that bad about it and what I remember most was a beautiful down the line backhand passing shot I hit on one of those two points, that nestled snugly in the corner. In the second set I was up 4-2, then he came back to tie it up 4-4, then our time on the court ran out.
I feel fine about it all. Especially after Thursday, when he took me 6-1 in the first while I was feeling shitty because of all this crap going on out on the neighborhood listserv, people attacking the Board and whatnot. Then I came back and took him 6-4 in the second set, hustling my ass off. That was a true mental victory.
But the thing about today which is really interesting is that it fits a pattern that I remember from when I was playing a ton of tennis with David in Princeton back in 2008-2009 ('m sure I wrote about it then, but don't have time to look). He and I would trade off, he'd beat me 6-4 one day and I'd beat him 7-5 the next but it was always even. On the one hand, I don't have it within me to beat my friends badly. Something within me will always let up or trip me up to keep it close. On the other hand, I also very easily let up and let myself off easy. If I win 3 or 4 games in a set and am not beaten badly, my internal meter kind of goes "good enough" and my mind drifts. I start blogging or thinking about work or something.
Is it that I am slack and slightly underachieving, or is it a sign of ego health that I don't feel like I need to prove much to anyone? I'm 55, in decent shape, obviously a passable athlete, why get all worked up?
And nobody else can blog like me. Here, I am the uncontested world champion.
As for now, I gotta go work on Mother's Day dinner.
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