we are home. happily and safely home. and i'm getting my early morning tennis fix watching the australian open mens semi-final match between ferrer and murray. it always gives me a boost of energy for my day watching the masters of my favorite sport show their stuff so powerfully. this only happens during the australian, that i can get up an hour or so early and catch an hour or two of live tennis before my day begins. it is one of my very favorite things. when i was very little i connected with the game and very soon i understood the magic of it. i grew up far from tennis courts and didn't really know how to muster up someone to play with anyway. so i took over the north wall of our house. there was only one window, high and in the peak of the wall, and it faced a large treeless expanse of grass. i would spend hours hitting against the rough limestone wall that sent back erratically angled balls that i would chase down. i was often chris evert in my mind. or my favorite player at the time, tracy austin. and then john mcenroe came to town and won my heart. his loudmouthed rebel ways were perfect for my own tween attitudes. tennis is a passion that has owned me far longer than any of the countless passions that fuel me. the game has changed. the faces have changed. but the fire it lights in my life stays the same.
Friday, January 28, 2011
we are home. happily and safely home. and i'm getting my early morning tennis fix watching the australian open mens semi-final match between ferrer and murray. it always gives me a boost of energy for my day watching the masters of my favorite sport show their stuff so powerfully. this only happens during the australian, that i can get up an hour or so early and catch an hour or two of live tennis before my day begins. it is one of my very favorite things. when i was very little i connected with the game and very soon i understood the magic of it. i grew up far from tennis courts and didn't really know how to muster up someone to play with anyway. so i took over the north wall of our house. there was only one window, high and in the peak of the wall, and it faced a large treeless expanse of grass. i would spend hours hitting against the rough limestone wall that sent back erratically angled balls that i would chase down. i was often chris evert in my mind. or my favorite player at the time, tracy austin. and then john mcenroe came to town and won my heart. his loudmouthed rebel ways were perfect for my own tween attitudes. tennis is a passion that has owned me far longer than any of the countless passions that fuel me. the game has changed. the faces have changed. but the fire it lights in my life stays the same.
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