I think I've found my new tagline
Or, No Fandom Is an Island, Exhibit JT:
predatory
The unforced error is when you beat yourself. The ball comes to you and you hit it into the net. Or you hit it long. Or you hit it onto the roof of Gary Burke's car, in the parking lot, which I do, a lot.
But the worst error of all is when you don't even try.
On game day, I knew our opponents were going to be tough. During warm-up, the tall one kept hitting fast, spinning serves. I knocked a couple toward Gary’s parking space just to show her that she didn't scare me. But of course, she did.
During the match, however, I stayed tough and maintained my focus. When she hit a 400-mile-an-hour drive straight at my kidneys, I played my game: the dink. Soft returns, ridiculous loopy lobs and a serve that floated across the net like a matzo ball made with love.
But a funny thing happened. My opponents kept overhitting. Meanwhile, my partner, Cheryl, and I got most of our shots in. At one point in the second set, I even heard one of our opponents hiss to the other, "But her serves are so soft ..."
"Float like a matzo ball, sting like a bee," I thought. And wafted another of Nana's seltzer specials over the net.- Michelle Slatalla, There is a 'Me' in 'Team'"