Pickleball Magazine 3-5 | Page 42

MY Rookie SEASON »»»» “W hat? Start a new sport now? Are you kidding? I’m 77 years old!” I knew how insistent my daughter could be when an idea got a hold of her. So for good measure I added, “And you know my bad shoulder won’t let me.” “No, Mom, I’m serious. You have to try it.” She was adamant. An avid athlete, she’d come back home from Savannah for a visit, and had heard a friend was running pickleball games at a nearby park. Ridiculous. But I wanted to spend as much time as possible with her, so I agreed to go. I’d watch her from the sidelines. And besides, I had never seen a pickleball game. I’d heard it was like playing ping-pong while standing on the table. My daughter knew well that if I could still play tennis, if a torn rotator cuff hadn’t interfered in my life, I’d still be playing as often as I could schedule games around my teaching obligations. Tennis was my addiction. It invigorated my body and satisfied my spirit. When my kids were young, I’d started many summer mornings with an hour of singles followed by two hours of doubles. And on just as many summer afternoons, my kids would declare, “Wow, Mom! You’re in such a good mood!” I knew why. Even the stresses of team tennis stirred me: the challenge of conquering pre-match anxiety and maintaining camaraderie amidst competition; the pressure to perform for the team’s sake even as I knew younger players would outrank me. I was only a 3.5-rated player, but everything about the game—especially the pure pleasure of playing— rewarded me. So when the pain of that torn rotator cuff banished me from the court, I assumed the pause was temporary. After therapy—or, if necessary, surgery—I’d be right back. Not quite. Just getting a surgeon to operate on me proved a challenge. The first two I saw declined to accept me as a patient. “You’re not a case for rotator cuff surgery,” reported Dr. First Choice. “Too much arthritis.” Dr. Second Choice gave it a 50-50 chance. “Well, maybe a little less,” he added. Dr. Third Choice left the door open just a crack: “Difficult, but I think I can do it.” My 40 TO SUBSCRIBE CALL 888.308.3720 OR GO TO THEPICKLEBALLMAG.COM