Martin had lesson at the Cunningham where I have been playing for the past 10 years or so on the weekend mornings. As family, we’ve there been couple of times for the New York Philharmonic with our neighbors few years ago. It’s bit windy but warm enough for out door tennis. Slowpoke chuckled when she saw so many players were greeting me, “mom, how many people do you know?” lol . . . it’s also first time they saw Slowpoke. When she took lesson, I played with Kevin the Aussie. It’s pretty intense one hour hitting. At the end, he said, “your back seemed holding up nicely.” What back? Do I have one? Oh the painful one. It never exists till it starts bothering me, lol.. After her lesson, Katie came back and they played for an hour. Katie’s mom is also non stop picking up balls, gosh … I must be the laziest mom around. While they were playing, Martha (?) kept telling Katie what to do, to a point when Katie stopped and told her mom to be quiet. Thank god I have enough self restrain, haven’t done so yet. But I do talk with her, in private. Especially when we drive to the lesson, I found it’s a good time to bring up the subject, we always have good chat. Obvious she hasn’t watched enough tennis to know all the terms, so when Martin commented that she has flat forehand, she asked me what does it mean during one of her ball-retrieval trips. Sweet pie, lol .. don’t worry too much, do what’s comfortable n nature to you. She hits her flat forehand deep, which is better than mine. Was that Simon repeatedly telling me, hit it deep to the baseline?? So here you have it, flat might afford less options, but if you can hit it deep, it is effective. She also asked when can she switch to single hand back hand. Have you been reading my blog, baby? She complains that double handed backhand gives her less reach, and less flexibility. Single hand backhand? Sounds like music to my ears.
Posts Tagged tennis
A day of pain
I dragged myself home last night from court, soaked in Jacuzzi but it didn’t help much. I woke up few times during the night, due to the nagging pain. Lord, is my tennis career over? Irene said that she needs tuina – Chinese massage – to ease the pain. Ha, we are all nuts.
Just the other day I had chat with Yishi, she’s complaining that it’s hard to find a good tuina master – Cantonese style – in Beijing. We both sighted that when we were little, viewed Chinese medicine with indifference, thought it’s for the elderly or terminally ill, last resort. Now I’m in New York, and began visiting them with increased frequency. I told her that there are few in NY that are pretty good – just jet over: Mr Huang claims he’s the legendary Haung Feihong’s fourth generation disciple – don’t know his last name is coincident or he changed – I visited him for my sprained ankle, from tennis two years ago. He’s talkative, non stop, I learned very quickly bout his background, growing up in Hong Kong, learned his craft under rigid rules .. Prior to Mr Huang, I visited Ms Yan who’s from Taiwan. I sprained my knee from skiing and the orthopedic was no use: after few visits, my back began to acting up, which was new to me back then. So Ms Yan made me feel anew after just once or twice – it might be her magic touch, or maybe I suffered long enough.
Anyway, I ran to her this morning. It’s torture. Her skilled hands started from the back of my neck like handling the chicken neck, lol .. when she started talking nonsense, you know the pain’s to arrive. Sweating, tearing, I wanted to scream, trying to move away from her grapping hands. Her forceful thumbs dug deep into my neck, arms, back .. no escaping. All the while her calming voice repeatedly telling me, vinegar, wine, salty stuff, spicy stuff, tofu, meat and sex are bad for you, avoid them at all cost, if you want to live longer and healthier. Lord, save me from hell? Then on to the bed for more torture and acupunctural, back to the chair again, she put that thin long needle into my palm from the back once, I thought I’d fainted. That 20 minutes were like tornado, loud, powerful, excruciating, violently, brutal, swift, then the storm’s over, you see the sunlight.
“Can I play tomorrow or Sunday?” she looked at me in disbelieve. Never hurt to ask, it’s not my body when it feels good. She gave me some herb drug mixer to boil at home, kids would love that – it’s fun to see your children running away from home.
My next appointment is implant. I need a pair of 38C to boost my aging confidence, lol. How about settle for 10? #10 tooth. How I come to need an implant is anther sorry and sad story. Dr. Moss’s children went to the same school with mine, his youngest daughter was the same grade with Kinglazy .. but I have to trek to Park Avenue in the city. Can’t those good surgeons have satellite offices in town? Guess bigger fish needs larger pond. I was referred to him by another neighbor, a dentist who we met though our sons. We have easy time together, I knew quit bit of their associates – mostly the Columbia crowds with few NYUers – from the actual treatments and consultations. Gosh my pictures taken in Beijing, my teeth looked marvelous gorgeous and health. What’s wrong with those Gailao Drs, they found all kind of defects, which were all ok with the Chinese/Hong Kong Drs. I often say to Golfer, if weren’t for my dental flaws, he could have retired long time ago.
Don’s wife Lydia was an oral surgeon in Beijing, we often joked about this, severe shortage of dentists, so as long as your denture is not decaying, you’ll get clean bill of health, assume you can muscle a set of denture in the first place. My dad was health freak, he took me to see dentist when I was only 6 or so, we got up at 5am …. Lydia used to perform 8 surgeries a day, every single working day of the week. She said patients complained about no service, ‘I just wanted to cut them up, sew it and kick them out of my face immediately. Service? Lucky that I didn’t whack them ….’ lol..
Time to bed, need some beauty sleep. Tennis anyone tomorrow??? Don’t be shy … Ok, short notice, then how about Sunday?
A surprise call
Out of blue, Wah called for a doubles game. I met him when I started playing with the weekend morning group 10 some years ago. He was one of the better players, 4 or 4.5, and was not as frequent as say Sunny or Kai who were very diligent and professional, a.k.a. there every weekend, both Saturdays and Sundays. Whenever he showed up for work, he’ll immediately snapped up by other guys, … he seldom played with me. I didn’t think we speak at all, except once he was egged on by others, played a set with me: handicapped 2 pts with 1 serve. He won’t cede 3 pts as Sunny suggested – my going rate was 2 points with a 4.0, like with Sunny and Kai .. ; and 4.5, what 4.5? I got bagelled. .. After few years, he just disappeared.
Although I have been playing with this weekend morning group –all from Hong Kong – for more than 10 years, winters included, but I never socialize with them, nothing much in common, our topic was tunnel-versioned on tennis, if we have a little time to talk. They are a very tight knit group, collect membership dues, elect a president every year, have dinners, play ma jiang, BBQs all the time… you have to be invited to join the group. Frank C and wife Terry were initiated few years ago. There were few playing couples, Frank L and Irene, Cheng Zai and wife Teresa ..
One summer few years ago, while Walter and I waited for the courts to dry, he started gossiping. Frank L had an affair with a waitress, for revenge, Irene started one with a good looking guy who used to play with us. Reportedly, she bought him a Benz. .. After that, Frank L and Irene didn’t come often, and as time gone by, they divorced. He still lives in town with their children, started that restaurant, couple of years later bought out the other managing partner. She went to Hong Kong often, left her family business .. I enjoy playing doubles with Irene, she’s pretty, has nice forms with lethal forehand – we pair well. We were neighbors but not close. This past summer I began seeing them – Irene and Wah – playing together. Two weeks ago I into them at the tennis party, we chatted, she moved to NJ .. but never made plan to play. Finding my phone # is easy since this is a small world. But what’s amused me was Wah made the call, not Irene. I wouldn’t recognize him at all except his husky voice. First I thought they needed fourth player. No, you’ll have to bring your own partner. Ok, so Simon G was it. Wah was nice and fair, called couple of his close shots out. I think the benefit of playing with better players is they in general have better line calls too, and they have no qualm of calling themselves out. I love to win fair and square. But sometimes when the call is too close, I usually let it go, but then felt being cheated. Couple of weeks ago when I made a close call – out, it bothered me a little. That same day with different opponents, when I served to the T, was being called out .. I was mad – I knew my serve very well, and with lesser players, this T serve was always called out, 9 out of 10. That day they reluctantly offered me 2 serves, but I was not pleased. I eventually lost that point, and they felt vindicated. Tough love.
Last night game could have been great, except my lower back was in pain. They won 6:3 and 6:2 easily. We switched partners for the third set and Wah and I lost 7:3 in tie break. Wah is playing tentatively, for he wants to please his pretty girl friend, they make a good looking couple :)) .. Simon rushed off the court for another game at the USTA, lol.. I’m not the only nuts.
Managing a winter league
In the past, I’ve managed indoor winter league few times: couples and ladies. I priced in the cost of balls for each week, demanded their e-mail addresses, lectured them on the good manner of on time, and made it very clear that each player is responsible for his or her own sub in the event of an absence. You would think it would be a cake walk … What I found the most difficult was finding a replacement at the last second. There’s someone forgot to come, sudden airport pickups, little Sue or Johnny’s friends’ birthday parties … emergency room visits, emotional distress from a divorce (ok, this was rare, but did happen once ) … What made me stop organizing was one of my most reliable sub got pregnant. Believe me, toward the end of the season, my roster of subs was always very much wore out, and fanatic phone calls for help was not pleasant – think in the neighborhood of begging.
Andy is the organizer for his Friday night league, few years in a row. He’s disappointed when he heard I paid for another year’s membership of badminton. Cos he asked me to join for this season. I actually thought about join him full season, but then I reasoned with him that it’s better to keep me as a sub, reliable; and I also don’t have to tie down for every single Friday night for 26 weeks – I do have a nightlife away from tennis. Yesterday, after calling me early in the morning to cancel my service, only to call again in the afternoon to say I was needed. I sort of butchered my plan and went with George: had more than two glass of wine. Unfortunately Andy miscalculated, 9th player showed up and had to leave. I would have volunteered to leave should I drove there myself. Anyway, the game turned out to be pretty exciting. I teamed up with Alex and won two close sets – we were down 4 love at once and came back to win in tie break – and on serve in the third when time ran out. Drinking and driving is not advisable, but how about drinking and playing?
Forward thinking ..
Sunny called at crack of dawn. I was till in bed, sleepy. But it’s from Sunny, so I got myself onto the court in a record time. He was hitting with someone. Did I get to play with him? Yes, all but 3 minutes. That’s Sunny. Regardless if I got there on time or late, if he found someone to play, he’ll play with that someone, or 3 for a doubles. Did I ever exist? Good question. I ended up hitting with Renee (?), one of the perennial Filipinos, a great player. Sunny took his time with his coffee, then hit with me against Renee for 3 minutes, till Charles came. My forehand is still not up to his standard. “You took step forward with your backhand, see the difference ..” He’s said this many times before, but somehow it registered today. Seriously, I have no idea what I am doing on the court. Later when I played doubles with Willy and 2 other perennials, they seemed to know what’s wrong with my game than I did. We lost both sets, but it’s a great game. I sweated like a pig, and yuke, yes grunt like a pig too. I was totally disgust. Still thinking about the forehand, how could you step forward when hitting a forehand, for a righty?
FDR vs West Highway
Where was I? Oh, I’m milking the MS Bike Tour, … pls do allow me to do so, after all, I raised $500 and rode 30 miles. My right leg hurts so much that I can’t bend, walking with a limp, that, does look my age, lol. My right leg began to feel tight since yesterday, played bit too much tennis. Well, actually when Simon and I got to Sandy’s house, she was doing the blow job, right on the court … hey, what are you thinking? smile. Seriously, I don’t understand the gardener’s schedule – why don’t they come more often during the fall, when the leaves drop like there is no tomorrow?? During the summer time, like June or July, there isn’t much to do but they come regularly. I asked mine and his reply was that’s the way it is .. .. whatever. Anyway, so we helped her out. While I used the blower trying to get to the corner, I twisted my leg a little. By the time I left her house after 4 intermittent sets, the court was lightly layered with fresh leaves again, :). This morning, it was cold and I only had biking shorts on; perhaps the coldness also aggravated the leg.
The city closed down both the FDR and West Highway. The weather was beautiful and crispy; the sceneries from both rivers are simply gorgeous. I have to admit that the Hudson and the West Highway trumps the East River and FDR by a large margin. Few turns on the WH provide you the panorama view of the Hudson that is just breathe taking. … but, real estate on the East side is more expensive than the West, hmmmm. The old money vs new.
There were unicycles, bicycles, tricycles and quadcycles with babies. I’m dreaming maybe next year I’ll be charming enough to entice Slowpoke and King do the tri or quad … I’m in the back, sipping a martini 🙂 Ok .. That’s what the kids are for!!
Oh, sugar, I somehow lost my camera’s battery at beginning of the trip. How did that happen? Sure the kids are happy now that I have no camera to bother them with. Time for a new toy.
I rode up every single hills. We all took a rest at the top of the isle at about 10 o’clock, at the Inwood Hill Park near Columbia’s Baker Field. (Yale vs Harvard is legendary … how about Columbia?) For the first time ever, I ate a bag of potato chips before 2pm. Can’t understand nor believe the ‘food’ the tour provide on the stops consist of chips, would crackers be more politically correct? Eeehhhh, the green bananas: they’re inedible! After that, we set off again.
Right before we turned onto 218th Street, the road was very rough. My bike is mountain bike, so I wondered how did those road bikes fare. The part of West Highway from 218 to GW Bridge is just magnificent, high cliff on the left (Fort Tryon Park) and misty and reflecting river on the right, very tranquil. I rode pretty much alone, for my badminton buddies left me in their dust. But I did some thinking: how to fool my kids to join me next year. When and where is my next race, oh ya, I sketched out the bestseller, wink, wink.
The last 5 miles was the hardest. Coz my right leg hurt like hell. I should set my fund raising goal to $1000, so maybe the Tour would allow me ride in a stretch limo? Just a thought, never hurt to think big. My indoor tennis season starts tomorrow, I actually have a game tomorrow at 7pm, and Friday too. Good luck, need a rest, now.
Love Thy Neighbors, 2006
Something happened yesterday afternoon: Martin (A black prosecutor fm Florida, who teaches tennis while waiting to pass his NY bar exam) was giving tennis lesson to my kids in the North Middle school. There are five courts, all individually separated, all with 2 hops on each side of the court. It was very deserted on the campus, except 4 ladies in one court and anther taken by a coach with a boy. Half way through the lesson, I saw couple of young men walked toward us with basketball. They didn’t pass by us; instead they walked into our court. One of them started talking to Martin while he was feeding balls to my kids.
Young man 1: “When are you finishing up?”
Martin, shrugged, “30 more minutes.”
YM 1: “I am sorry but can you move to another court, hoops in this court are better than the others.”
I was glad that Martin replied, “why can’t you wait for 30 minutes till we finish here?”
YM 2: “But there are 10 of us, we have to wait for 30 minutes?”
Martin “Tough love.”
More young men have arrived and they all piled into our court. Some stood, some sat, some discussing loudly why can’t they have the court and why don’t we just pack up and move. Some even started shooting the hoop.
YM 3: “Why don’t you just move, so we can play. …. It’ll be dark by the time you finished. … We play here every day ….” It was 5pm.
Martin clearly the heaviest and tallest one, but couple of YMs were bumping chest with him with sound bit of f words. A fight were about to begin. I walked toward them, “get off the court now, we are not moving. You wait for your turn.”
The YMs left Martin and turned to me.
YM 1 said, “I can help you to move the stuff to another court.”
YM 3, “if you don’t let us play here, you are not going to play here either.” And he walked toward the net and trying to lie down. I asked the YM 1 where are they from?
“We all from here, this is our school.”
YM 2 who’s very short, came over, shouted at me repeatedly, “you don’t understand.” Pointing to Martin, “maybe you can explain to her …”
“Which part of it you think that I don’ understand?” I asked, trying to contain my anger and disbelieve. I didn’t want to lose my temper in front of my kids.
“Your English is fine, but you just don’t understand. ….”
“Guys, off the court. Is this the way you’d like your mother be treated?” Martin asked.
Actually few of them got bit quieter. But YM 2 and 3 won’t relent. YM 2 shouting, “my mother would have moved, she is reasonable …” There were 9 of them, some are seniors and others are off to college. All in shape, white (or Persian) and mostly are tall. I felt very threatened. So I called police, without a notion as what the police would do.
YM1, “you don’t have to call police. I was nice to you. We’ll move.” So by the time police got here with one female officer, in 4 cars – FOUR CARS – the group has moved to the next court. The officers, had to raise their voice, told them to go home. As they were reluctantly departing, YM 1 who was the last to leave, holding the basketball, said to me, “would you please ask the officer to allow us, the few nice ones to play here? Some of us are leaving next week for college…” I started to walk toward the officers who were also leaving, but then I changed my mind.
I stood on the grass, as did the officers, watching them got into their shimmering convertibles, roadsters and SUVs, and sped off.
I asked the officer who stood next to me, “has this type of thing happened before?”
“No.” he replied sternly.
“Was it appropriate by calling the police?” I was really helpless and felt violated.
“We are here to protect you if you felt threatened.”
Martin said quietly that should those kids are black some of them would have been in jail. Hmmmm. I didn’t know what to say. Part of my anger is from the fact that those thogs put my kids through the ugly bullying. But on the same token, I was glad that I was there to see how they handled it, providing some support. They can’t and won’t live in the glass jar, sooner or later they’ll have to face the world on their own.
We finished our lesson and I was surprised to see the police cars were still around – the courts are on a small mount. The female office didn’t leave till I started the engine. In the car, Martin said (I’ve heard this one few times before) that when he teaches in my town, the kids often ask ‘why’ 10 times till they get what they want. Those are my neighbors.
This is the second time I experienced blatant condescending treatment by my fellow humans. The first time? Munich, 1991, in a restaurant similar to The Palm, the blonde waitress flatly refused to serve us.
______________
Maxim
Few issues ago, Maxin featured James Blake’s girl friend, Jennifer Scholle.
Called me unsavvy or out dated, whatever you desire, but I couldn’t understand why on earth would she want to do that?
And he let her?
Look at her fake boobs.. .. they’re fake, aren’t they?
Would Tim Henman allow his g/f to post in such way?
Ya, right, you can tell me that she has every right to do thing she pleases …
Equal right.
Roger Federer looked snappy and sharp (pick him to win).
Agassi’s match was rather, well, dull.
Oh well.
Miss Pete.
He retired four years ago.
4 years?!
The Bookstore
Barnes and Noble at Lincoln Center
Ever since they could voice their likes and dislikes, bookstore has been my kids’ top destination. The other day, Martin the coach commented that King is nature to tennis, even he’s out of shape and tired, but he never gives up. Pumpkin on the other hand has the attitude as if she’d rather be shopping. When I related this comment to her,
“Shopping?” she rolled her eyes and replied
“I’d rather be in a bookstore.”
Bookstore it is. Today we the girls went there again, for solid 3 hours. I often joked that I’ll pack her a lunch box (plus diaper .. JK .. but just how early on they wanted to go ..) and just leave her there for the day. In fact, they often tell me to go away (guess I’m too embarrassing for them) and will call me when they want to leave.
When we got home, Golfer and King were home from the movie. When King heard we went to the bookstore, he was upset.
“I wanted to go too!”
Oh, sorry honey, next time.
“But I told you yesterday.” He insisted.
Oh boy. Actually he was right. My fault, either over looked or forgot. My senior moment got in the way, -:(
We have no life at home, going to book store is such an exciting trip ..
Sunny the Postmaster
I played one set of doubles against Sunny and company this morning and lost 4:6. If were not for King’s friend’s bar mitzwah party, I’d played another set. Couple of serving games I played were clean and smart, yes I was concentrating and thinking. And I won few long rallies from baseline over Sunny. He’s impressed and I was more than pleased, especially the winners off my forehand.
Sunny is 4.0 player who loves to coach. Competitive but fair, he carries his small frame tall with a big mouth to match. When I first join this Hong Kong AM weekend group 6 or 7 years ago, I didn’t have forehand. Few good players in the group are all likely to offer some advice but Sunny is determined.
“80% game is won by forehand.” he stated.
So we worked on my fore hand.
“Don’t jump …. stop pushing …. hit with your fore hand ….”
He’d hiss like a drill sergeant, and made sure I knew if he’s disappointed with my play. Few times, he even walked off the court in the middle of a doubles game.
I was fine with this kind of abuse, since I enjoy playing with him or against him. I didn’t mind at all.
Not everyone shares my point of view.
A tall Chinese girl who I never played with before, said to Sunny after a lousy game from me ..
“She’s so nice, doesn’t talk back.”
Sunny was mad and walked away.
“I don’t dare.” I joked. Her little eyes enlarged considerable. Sorry if she didn’t get the joke.
Another time Sunny and I were playing against an older Caucasian couple. As usually, he’s non-stop giving me advice and showed little temper when I missed few easy shots. The lady finally had enough of this, called me over to the net,
“honey, don’t let your husband do this to you.”
I was pretty miserable at that moment, nothing seemed going my way. But her comment cracked me up, Sunny neither my b/f nor hubby.
I teased her, “mama, be thankful that he hasn’t walked out on me yet.”
For a brief second she was totally stunned at my timidity.
