Following on from a few posts I wrote last week pertaining to an running underlying “tennis” theme, I thought I’d share with you a similar memory from my teen days that both shocked the hell outta me, in additional to being something I will most likely never forget. And it all involved a college associate of mine, I knew by the name of Rajesh.
So, long story short. We had always planned to play a session of tennis together. He would flare up with excitement at the mere mention of Wimbledon so it was great to related to an avid follower of the sport who also happened to be someone I saw almost everyday throughout the week. Of course, also played regularly for a tennis club in his area so chances are that we’d have stiff competition going up against one another. Rajesh and I would always banter back and forth about how a game between us was on the cards but finding the time to play was the only obstacle in our way. That was until one beautiful and blazing hot summers day, where just after our college day ended, I offered him a late afternoon session of tennis.
To my surprise, he readily agreed. Living not too far from the local courts, he chose to pop home quickly to grab his racket, a few balls and meet me there. Great, I thought. So, we parted ways and did exactly as agreed. Fast forward a little while later and he arrived at the courts sporting his new “tennis” attire and a gym bag full of sweatbands and a couple tins of tennis balls. I turned up in the same gear I wore to school. Jeans and a t-shirt. Anyhow, I could tell this was gonna be a sporting event battle to end all battles and must admit, was a little nervous too.
So, once he had finished donning all his accessories, transforming into something resembling more of an amateur tennis pro than my classmate, both of us took our positions on the court. We asked how we should start preceedings and, knowing my serve was the only ace I had up my sleeve, requested just that. A 10 minute warm-up of just serves, after which a further 10 minute of on-court practice session and then "the" full-on three setter. Light of the day permitting, of course.
He also graciously allowed me to go first. I bounced the ball on the dry, heated ground. A few drops of perspiration already began surfacing at my temples. I noticed him bounced up and down on the spot, signalling for me to start. No time like the present, I thought. I tossed the ball high into the air and slammed into the ball for all I was worth, hoping to open with an ace, of course. The ball flew through the air, but a lot higher than I anticipated. It hurtled towards Rajesh and landed… Straight into his nut sack. Yes, you heard me correctly. I blasted his own balls with a ball of my own. A look of sheer panic fell on my face. I yelled out to see if he was alright. A few seconds of frozen stillness followed by him crumbling to the floor. I, to this day, have never seen a man hit the floor faster.
Shocked and bricking it, I sprinted over to the sorry pile of “person heap”. He seemed dazed and confused.I offered him a helping hand but he angrily brushed me away, requiring some time to compose himself and recover from presumably what must have been a severe case of embarrassment and pain. A few minutes later and several heavy grunts later, he was on his feet again, assisted by yours truly. We shuffled over to the nearby bench as he slumped into it and stared up at me. I’ll never forget what he said next.
”I’m sorry, man. I don’t think we can play tennis together ever again.”
No shit, I thought to myself. I just prayed his crown jewels were still intact and had some sparkle left in ‘em…
