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Can You Take the Heat?

I stared across the green clay at the sun beat down on the court. I approached the base line, spinning the pink Wilson racket in my right hand. My opponent stood on the other side of the net, waiting, watching as I bounced the yellow tennis ball against the ground. I waited too, sizing up the figure across the court. A breeze brushed against the back of my neck. Steadying my breath, I sent a quick prayer heavenward as I jiggled on the balls of my feet. My opponent grew restless but still I held my position, waiting for the right moment. A small drip of sweat slid down the back of my neck. My opponent’s eyes darted to and fro, watching my every move. Slowly I breathed in, out. In, out. Then, like lightning, I threw the ball straight into the air. The wind whistled as I drew my racket back, slamming it into the ball with as much force as I could muster. The missile soared over the net and landed neatly in the outlined box on the other side. My opponent unleashed her pent-up energy, lunging after the ball but it was too late. It sailed right past her.

One bounce.

Swing.

Miss.

Point.

Game.

Set.

Match.



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