Dad was good enough to meet me this morning at tennis courts about half way between our houses. He has been looking for someone to play with that isn’t interested in the competitive game, but in what he refers to as “a game of cooperation.” It has been a while since I’ve moved around in any really deliberate manner and I was certain I’d fulfill my visions of broken ankles and bones sticking out of my skin (I can be prone to some dramatic thinking), or maybe a heart attack.
I shouldn’t have feared though, Dad was great at showing me the basics of the forehand and encouraging me. It was amusing how much I’d be shuffling all over the court and it seemed as if Dad was barely moving. He says the Economy of Movement will come.
I had a great time, though I tired quickly. Gotta start somewhere (over and over, it seems). And no broken bones. Yet.
