I had my second tennis lesson yesterday. One more and I’m going pro. I have all the pre-requisites: the racquet, the sexy skort and an aggressive tennis coach who appreciates tennis fashion.
Here’s my skort so we’re all on the same page:
My coach shows up and declares,
“Oh very nice. At least you look the part now.”
Yes. I still can’t play but that skort will fool some people.
Last week we worked on my forehand. This week we start with my backhand. Then we switch. I hit one backhand, then one forehand. It’s like my last tennis lesson never happened, my forehand is a mess.
My coach yells,
“Move your feet! Get to the ball! Swing! Slowly! Keep your wrist straight!”
I swing. The ball flies away.
“You didn’t keep your wrist straight. Back to center!”
The ball comes toward me again. My coach calls out,
“Move! Not too close! Keep your eye on the ball! Arm back! Follow through!
I swing. The ball soars several courts away. My coach offers feedback,
“That wrist was not straight, did you feel it? What is your wrist doing?”
That is a very good question. What is my wrist doing? What is any part of my body doing right now? It is hard to say.