Listen, either you’ve stepped on the conveyor belt to Pickleball inevitability already or you will soon enough. It’s a force greater than all of us.
Any park worth a darn has a Pickleball court now, and you can buy a sleeve of balls at the grocery store. Pickleball is grabbing ratings on network television featuring Hall of Fame tennis players as competitors and every wedding weekend is now required to feature a Pickleball event.
I saw my daughter’s friend wearing a t-shirt that said, “There’s no crying in Pickleball,” which is more evidence that this funny-sounding fad/sport has inter-generational staying power, too.
Where do you fall on the Pickleball continuum? I’m in the toddler stage of Pickleball participation and I wondered if I should hold off writing about it until I was further along. But I think there is merit in documenting what the landscape looks like from this vantage point because, from what I can tell, it is compelling and weird and coming soon to a converted court near you.
Kristen and I are about a month shy of nineteen years of marriage and from what I understand, a lot of people find themselves in the “Pickleball curious” phase right around this time in their lives. I could parse out the fact that she was a bit more curious than me. but this isn’t a therapy session.
Anyway, I think accessibility is the key. It’s an easier game for the average athlete to play than tennis and certainly less time-consuming than golf. Throw in something of a social aspect and it’s like the game has its own set of pheromones.
Now that I’ve played twice and learned the rules, I’ve ascended to “Pickleball novice” – wavering between feeling hapless when I can’t keep the ball inbounds to gifted when I hit a winner. The latter feeling is the hook – we all enjoy a few moments of Pickleball glory when we impress ourselves…
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