I have nothing to do. Nowhere to go. No stories to tell. Well I guess I have a couple of stories, but they are just sad little things. Let me take you back to what happened.
Last Thursday: The last day of practice for the 2006-2007 tennis season. The RMAC tournament was the next day and since we were given no shot to win and advance to regionals, Thursday figured to be the last day of practice. It was. And it was wonderful.
The weather started out horrible (40 mph winds all morning -- I thought the Library building 
was going to come tumbling down) but it turned amazing somewhere along the way. The perfect spring day. We had a short little practice at the park and then went to a park to play frisbee for about an hour, and then everyone came to my house for a gigantic spaghetti and meatball dinner. After a few solid hours of eating, ping pong, more frisbee, FIFA, and a little more eating, everyone left and I was left with a weird glowing feeling that all was well in the world. It was the best day I could remember. Our coaches had even come to the dinner, and I felt for the first time like everyone on the team was just one big family. I know, I am retarded.
was going to come tumbling down) but it turned amazing somewhere along the way. The perfect spring day. We had a short little practice at the park and then went to a park to play frisbee for about an hour, and then everyone came to my house for a gigantic spaghetti and meatball dinner. After a few solid hours of eating, ping pong, more frisbee, FIFA, and a little more eating, everyone left and I was left with a weird glowing feeling that all was well in the world. It was the best day I could remember. Our coaches had even come to the dinner, and I felt for the first time like everyone on the team was just one big family. I know, I am retarded.Fast forward to Friday morning. I woke up late. 20 minutes before I was supposed to be across town, in fact, which takes 15 minutes. I slammed some fruit into my tennis bag, forgot half of my warm ups, brushed my teeth, didn't get to take my morning dook, picked up Ricardo at school and made it to the courts a mere 8 minutes late. Not the best start to the morning.
It didn't matter that much though, because Greg and I played some amazing tennis in dubs and won 8-1. We spanked them. Then I lost in singles. And then we lost to Mesa again, 5-4. And then in the huddle afterwards our coach said, "Well guys, this is my swan song." No one said anything for a solid minute. Everyone was just staring at the ground. I looked at him and watched him try to blink away some tears and put his sunglasses back on. He stuck his hand into the middle of the circle and asked for a "team on three," but I could barely understand him. We croaked out a little chant but no one left. We had all been preparing for it since we found out he was getting divorced this winter, but I don't think anyone was expecting it at that moment.
Since then, life has been a slow, springtime spiral. Life is good, and at the same time I am heartbroken. Practice is over and I have nothing to do. I should have tons of time to do homework, but I can't focus on anything at all. I walked the dogs and did errands with my dad around town today instead of playing tennis, and it was nice and all but it didn't feel right at all. Life has no meaning without tennis -- I am sure of that.And yes, I am very glad that the Nuggets beat the Spurs, but they need to do it again before I get too excited. And no, I cannot wait until the Liverpool - Chelsea Champions League match. I'm going to go temporarily forget my sorrows with a DP and FIFA. You figure it out.
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