Tennis

Lately I’ve been playing tennis on a semi-regular basis. I hadn’t really played in years, but it’s coming back to me. My roots in tennis lay in lessons I took as a little kid (not posh country club lessons—these were normal, summer-camp lessons) and playing with my dad as a kid. I remember thinking that when I was strong enough to hit the ball over the fence, I had become a man. Must have driven my dad crazy.

I was okay. Never as good as my dad, and never as good as the best kid at camp. As an adult, I’m not much better. I hit my forehand hard and inconsistent, my backhand sucks, and my net game is a bit wild. But it’s fun. I love dashing around the court, returning deep lobs that have no business staying in play, finishing a good serve every now and then. I really want to come to the courts wearing starched white pants, a pristine white shirt, and a cashmere sweater draped over my shoulders and tied around the neck. On the hottest day of the year. Just for kicks.

I have a question, though. The other day I went to buy a new racquet. But there are so many options, the key choice being between aluminum and some sort of graphite hybrid. What’s better? I ended up choosing the graphite hybrid because I think the future is more likely made of things with the word “hybrid” in them than “aluminum,” but I could be wrong. Bad choice? You tell me.