It really sucks to have tennis elbow and not even play tennis. I get that is just a name for tendonitis and anything can cause it, but it is called tennis elbow so it makes me think of tennis. I took lessons when I was a kid. I’m not really all that athletically inclined, but I had some really cool tennis shoes. They were old school (not old school at the time because it was 1980, they were new school then) white with a blue Nike swoosh. Pretty sure it wasn’t even called a swoosh back then. I also had a Chris Evert tennis racket. It was badass. I would stand in front of a wall at my parent’s house and hit the ball back and forth. I would have pretend John McEnroe meltdowns and scream at the wall. I wanted to be just like him. I was mad I didn’t have a big white afro. I did have wristbands and a headband. I wore it everywhere when Wimbledon came on during the summer. I also thought it looked cool and very professional to keep tennis balls in my shorts’ pockets. You had to be ready to serve at a moment’s notice. Incidentally, grunting when serving was crucial to the appearance of looking really focused. I just knew the combination of my shoes, racket, wrist/head bands, balls in pocket strategy and grunting would get me a spot on the professional tennis circuit.
One day, I’d be playing at Wimbledon. It was even just cool to say Wimbledon. Try it…say it really loud. I got in trouble for wearing my wristbands to church. You had to be prepared though; you just never knew when you were going to get that tap on the shoulder and request to step in for Chris Evert. I had to be ready. I’d take getting in trouble. I was that dedicated. Even just the smell of new tennis balls was exciting. Shut up…you know you smelled them, too. So, I suppose I can understand why I’m suffering from tennis elbow now. I was two steps from being a professional tennis player for God’s sake.