Maria Sharapova, I am not.
Good morning, Sara Celi here.
For years, maybe as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to learn how to play tennis—really learn. Something about the game has always fascinated me, and intimated me. When Wimbledon or the US Open comes around each year, I’m always watching the professional players in awe. There’s something about the ease in which those players hit the ball, the simple sophistication of their swing.
So I finally decided that this year would be my year to learn. I’m not planning on being a competitive player, but I want to learn enough to keep the ball in play. I also would like to be skillful enough to play a game with my husband (he’s better than he thinks he is).
I had my first lesson this week at Sawyer Point. I’m sure Jonathan, the tennis pro, had to reach down to a special place to get the kind of patience it takes to work with me. Not only am I a beginner, I am a left-handed beginner.
He worked with me for an hour, and we focused on just the basics—forehand, backhand, and the serve. I watched many of the balls I hit go wilder than leaves in a hurricane. A few times I wondered if Jonathan wasn’t holding back a laugh. But soo, as he worked with me, I saw things start to get at least a little better. My swing got stronger, my speed got better, and I got more confident.
I think I’m going to like this tennis thing better than even I could have imagined. We’ll just have to see if I can keep it up.