Game, Set, Match

Arjun Rao

Rader

Humanities

4/18/17

Game, Set, Match!

I looked over at the scorecard hovering over the net like a fly to fruit. 4-0, 3-1 (USTA 10U Intermediate plays two 4 game sets or one 6 or 8 game set)me, 40-30 in the game. I took a moment before serving to admire how much my Coach Ray had talked up this team, and they turned out to be pushovers. Earlier this morning, my coach had told our team, “These are our best competitors for the spot in the sectionals(A collection of the best teams in Southern California in each division) for 10U Intermediate. We’ve got to win! Got to!”

I had never seen Coach Ray, almost, well, nervous. We were the best team in San Diego last season for the spot in the sectionals and locked up our spot with ease. We had crushed this team, and I kept reminding him, but every time I did, he was like, “ They’re going to be better this season. I just know it!”

I could see why he was feeling a little antsy, too because we had to recruit a new person named Audrey to the team when our No. 5 player Brandon quit, along with our two backups, leaving us with a gaping hole in our No. 2 Doubles. I was expecting him to still be as twitchy and nervous as a squirrel while we did our warm ups, but he seemed much more relaxed, and I was too, after seeing the team play. We were at the La Jolla Cultural Center for Arts and were playing on their tennis courts. The Cultural Center was full of shops, and after seeing some of their mouthwatering treats, and I was ready to dig in after the match. I was having a great time playing with Victor when Coach Valerie put a hand on my shoulder and said, “Arjun, you’re going to be playing No. 1 Singles, like every week.”

Meanwhile, the guy on the other end was getting impatient for me to serve. I think he didn’t want to lose his little streak because in the last game he had won without giving up a single point. This was great for him because before that I was crushing him like a bug to the flyswatter. I stepped up to the line and bounced the ball three times, a kind of ritual for me to help my serve go in. The boiling heat was getting to me because my first serve missed into the net at about 3 miles per hour. I caught my breath and bounced the ball three times again. This time, I took a couple of quick practice swings and then tossed the ball high up in the air, letting it reach its highest point before swinging with force and pounding the ball into the corner. My opponent wasn’t expecting such a ripper of a second serve, so the best he could do was feebly pop it back up to me. I took advantage of this and stepped up to rip a forehand down the line, using up almost all of my remaining energy. He gave me a lob but he didn’t quite get the height on it, so it dropped short and I cut it away with a drop shot. He didn’t even try to run, just put his head down and went over to his bench. I sat down, breathing hard from the final game, and after walking over to the bench for a swig of refreshing water, I called out, “Game, Set, Match!”, relieved for this tiring game to be over.

I was ready for a relaxing spring break. I shook hands with him and left the court. Just as I was about to ask for a smoothie from my mom, my dad yelled from three courts over, “Get in the car. We’re going to a play!” Dang it! My dreams were jinxed again.