Wednesday, November 19, 2014


Pickle ball, a sport in which players use paddles to hit a whiffle ball(perforated polymer ball) over a low net, is the latest craze to be adopted by fit seniors. The sport, which was named, not after the inventor's dog Pickles, as is widely believed, but from the term "pickle boat", referring to the last boat to return with it's catch.
 After hearing about the sport from my brother, a retired criminal lawyer, who resides in B.C., I secretly formulated a plan to get him back for a deed he committed some 60 years ago. My father, a man's man, figured if his 2 sons were going to fight, they should learn to do it properly. Thus one evening he came home with 2 sets of professional boxing gloves for his young gladiators. The big moment came, my brother 2 years older with massive arms, took one swing and down I went knocked out cold. As befits the moment my brother, acting as his own referee, counted me out 1----10., then proceeded to help me.
 Now, it is my time to exact revenge. My brother, a young 71, a former athlete of some note, has developed a highly competitive attitude(killer instinct), to the game of Pickle ball. I plan to challenge him to a match(without him knowing of my plan to perfect my skill), emerge victoriously, thereby striking a blow of revenge for all younger brothers. Who says sibling rivalry fades with age.
 Thus,early on a crisp October Saturday morning I found myself entering a west end high school to learn the fundamentals of pickle ball. After registration and signing a waiver not to sue the sponsoring organization, I found myself in the middle of a group of seniors all anxious to learn the intricacies of the game. The beginner group as opposed to the intermediate group, consisted of a coed  cohort,equal numbers of both sexes, ranging in age from early 60s to a petit senior-senior woman.
A gentleman, Patrick, who had played before, reluctantly took charge of explaining the rules of the game to us. Soon after we were divided into 2 groups of 4,assigned to a court and explained the boundaries of the court, For example, the net is 36 inches high, one of the rules I latter broke ,states there is no spiking(hitting the ball directly without letting it bounce, in the kitchen area(3 feet on either side of the net. The rule is there to protect the player from injury.
 After a short warm up we were set to play. Dusting off my old athletic skills, I found despite the ravage of time, my eye-hand co-ordination was still operative, and the killer instinct alive and well.
In a totally inappropriate move, I entered the kitchen area, and blasted a spike that came within inches of decapitating my senior-senior opponent. Indeed David the athlete is back!
After realizing my indiscretion, in the interest of fair play, I scaled back my killer instinct, and a highly enjoyable time was had by all.
 Afterwards, I apologized profusely to my senior-senior, and learned "Bunny" is 93 years young and a socially delightful woman.
  • The following day, I am beset with muscle aches I have not felt in 30 years. Nevertheless, I consider the days' activities to be a roaring success and look forward to a long and fruitful career as a Picket Baller.

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