Early rising

Yesterday I took Adam in the first set 6-3, then he came back in the second 6-1. At the changeover when I was up 5-2 in the first, Adam asks me "Did you hear Tony King died?" Typically, Adam tried to rattle my nerves and distract me to fuck with my rhythm. But I held on and made it through, which is something of a triumph for me, because I often start slow and lose the first few games as my brain settles into being on court, at which point in time it's hard to come back in the first. So I more often win the second set.

But I would be remiss now if I didn't say a word about Tony's passing. I never knew the guy particularly well, but I also don't recall any reason to be down on him for anything. He always seemed like a good guy. He is the most recent Black guy from our class or a close one to die: Junebug, Russell Dula, Ivan McClam, Major Geer... I know I'm missing one more we discussed yesterday. I know white guys have died too (Akin, Scott Clarke, Tim Brower), so maybe it's hard to generalize, but it does feel like Black fellas are dropping disproportionately quickly, perhaps in aggregate as a function of poor diet and less access to good healthcare, which is a shame on all of us.

In any case, back to me, I was surprised to have cramping overnight: first my left calf at around 1, then my right hamstring at around 6, which woke me up for good. In each case I hopped quickly out of bed and got weight on it, then went and hydrated. It's odd I should cramp because it's not like we played longer or harder today then we have in recent months. Must be the heat.

But the cramping and the sleep challenges it brings returns me to the oddness of sleeping without Mary. Under COVID, we slept together more or less 15 months straight, with a couple of nights off when I went North with Natalie late last June. Now with both of us getting on the road a bit, we're having some hiati, which is definitely a touch disconcerting. We'll get through it, but it will be nice to have her back.