There's no sorry in tennis

Despite the ominous clouds that hung in the sky much of the morning, when D.G. - up for a weekend visit - suggested we play a bit o' tennis this morning, I felt up to the challenge.

Having not played, for oh about 4 years, Rich and I dusted off our rackets, packed up the little man in the car, and, with D.G. talking a lot of smack about how she was going to open up a can of whoop-ass on us, we headed to Cashman Park, a perfect spot, complete with tennis court AND playground. Rich and I thought we could tag-team it, one getting his "ass whipped" while the other climbed the faux boat with the little man. But much to all our dismay, the court was taken by a mom and son duo who mostly seemed to be stopping for snacks at the net.

So, it was off to Atkinson Common.

Yes, two courts free! But as we approached the courts and I saw two women dressed in serious tennis gear, playing hard (complete with grunts), I panicked. I am not much of a tennis player, and often spent much of my playing time running over to the next court to retrieve ill-hit balls. But, we were here, and I was jazzed to play. So I let it slide.

I took first shift while Rich and the little man, dragging around his little red wagon, walked around the Common. I waited for my ass-whooping, but it never came. Me and D.G. are actually pretty on par when it comes to tennis. So the first few minutes were less like a tennis match and more like a warmup to an Abbott and Costello routine. But then we got our groove on and managed a few good volleys. I love the "thwack" of a well-hit ball.

Rich was up. I'm not exactly sure how it went because the little man was obsessed with the tiny bridge that spans the tiny manmade pond on the other side of the park. But when we returned for snack, there was a couple of good rallies, but again, no ass-whooping, as promised. My turn, again. It went something like this.

"Thwack." Sorry. "Thwack." Sorry. "Thwack." Sorry. And D.G. reminding herself and me, "There's no sorry in tennis."

That's my tough warrior princess.

All totaled, we played for about an hour and a half. We were tired, dripping with sweat and sore. But damn it felt good. Thanks D.G.

Next time, there will be an ass-whooping. Only, it will be all yours.