One Step Closer

One Step Closer To The Game

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

I played at a different venue this morning.  I was so desperate in finding a tennis court closer to home that I trolled the internet for tips.  Good thing I came across a tennis forum for pinoy enthusiasts.  The folks there were very helpful and they pointed me to a court that’s only a few minutes away from where I live.  I was hoping that they would give me a contact person who can meet me there and hold my hand while he introduces me to everyone, but I guess it’s too much to ask.

What I did however was get a cab after work and asked the driver to take me to that tennis court.  The driver didn’t know the place but I persuaded him to just go to the vicinity and we’d just ask people around that area.  The tennis court was a familiar place to the locals so I didn’t have to torture somebody to point me in the right direction when I got there.  I paid the cab and courageously strolled towards the tennis court.

There’s a short walk from the main street before you can actually enter the tennis courts (there were two courts).  I was slightly turned off because the walkway smelled of human feces.  But that didn’t deter me.  If the road to hell is paved with gold then surely this shit-smelling place should be a far cry from that place that promised hell-fire and brimstone.

The courts, when I got there, weren’t exactly to die for.  But hey, there’s a level surface, a workable net, some signs of chalk (for the lines), and that’s all there is to it.  The second court still showed the evidence of last nights rain but it’s alright.

I went to what resembled an office and asked the lady looking at me if there’s a trainer in the house that I can rent.  I had to show my pearly whites and act real friendly for fear that I’d be charged an arm and a leg.  The lady was real kind and called the attention of the house trainer (turns out the trained is her husband).  We agreed on the price and I asked him if we can play today.  He said it should be fine believing that nobody in their right mind would still want to play at 11 in the morning with the sun flexing its muscles.

I hurriedly went home, grabbed a few mouthfuls of food, got dressed and went back to the court.  It was nearing eleven and the sun was really making its presence felt.  But one should never count the resolve of tennis players to take advantage of the fair weather even if it meant getting baked in return. I was carrying my bag, wearing my short shorts (well if you compare it to ankle touching things that pass for shorts nowadays), anticipating a nice rally and there’s no court to be had.

The look the trainer gave me was apologetic.  And can you believe this guy?  He was playing as well!  But eventually each one of the regulars got exhausted and it’s finally my turn on the court.  It was a short one hour and the trainer made mincemeat of my game.  Gah.  If I were some junk metal, nobody would buy me with all the rust that my game showed. I was panting when we stopped after an hour, but I was happy.

oOo

One Step Closer To The Grave

After the game, I sat on a monobloc chair trying to catch my breath when the regular players who’ve switched to tong-its and started drinking called the trainer and demanded that I sit with them.  I was too polite to refuse.  One of the guys asked what I would be drinking and I suggested beer.

They were a bunch of merry old men.  Retirees I think.  Turns out they meet there every other day plus weekends.  Being the youngest in the group I had to do all that ‘po’ and ‘opo’.  I just hoped they weren’t offended.

It’s a cool thing listening to this retirees bantering with each other and I couldn’t help but think how my retirement would turn out once I get to be their age.  They clearly had affection for each other.  One said that the problem with one of their friend is that the guy always wanted him to be first in something so that when he’s given a discount (as he usually is for some reason), the friend gets to have the same discount too.

“Putangina kahit yata sa kamatayan pauunahin ako ng hayop na to para meron din siyang discount sa punerarya.”

That drew a lot of laughter.  Another guy when given his glass of scotch pushed it away jokingly and said

“Kunin nyo to! Hindi ako nakikpag-inuman sa mga mahihirap.”

More laughter ensued.  When all the laughter died down, out of the blue, one of the more mischievous looking guy said

“Maswerte nga ako eh.  Seventy two na ako pero andito pa din, nagte-tennis.”

It’s a beautiful thing to see old people so happy.  And it made me think of my Dad.

Last week my Dad was operated on.  Scared the shit out of me but I knew with his bullheadedness he’d most definitely pull through.  And he did.  Though his home now, I wish he’d have a group like this to share smokes and whiskey with.  Although he has his mahjong buddies, I wish he’d have more.  I think one could never have too many friends.

Don’t you?

Tagged as: Tall Tales