Laden with injuries on the court, me and E. Shrew were quickly OUSTED in second round of the tournament yesterday. We faced the two top seeds in our bracket. My opponent in the second round received a "BYE" and had fresh legs. Surprisingly, I was winning 2-1 before succumbing to a massive heel injury. I was doing my usual jumping and running around crazy on the tennis court, when I landed hard on my right heel. My 174 pounds of bodyweight on my right foot badly bruised my right heel. My opponent asked me if I wanted to take a break, but I insisted on finishing the match on a hobbled foot. I limped around the entire match. I was NOT going to withdraw!
On the first set, I lost 6-2. On the second set, I shockingly hobbled around and had a 3-0 lead. That didn't last. My opponent did exactly what I would have done in a similar situation. He hit the ball far away from me and made me run my tired old decrepit body all over the court. I was toast. I ended up losing the second set 6-3.
I learned that E. Shrew had lost his singles match due to an injury too. He was beating the #1 seed 4-0 before stubbing his toe. His nailbed almost came completely off. He lost his second set 6-4, then had to withdraw after losing 5-0 in the second set. That was it for me and E. Shrew. We were done. We felt like OLD, ORNERY and HOBBLED men well past our prime. My entire body hurt: my back hurt, my shoulders were sore, my legs were aching, my ankles were crushed, and my right heel was deeply bruised.
We were not done for the day though. I had brilliantly signed us up for a doubles match just in case we went down in flames in our first singles match. We were staring across the net at a doubles team that had been resting for half the day. Our opponents had each lost their first singles games. E. Shrew and I had to play our third match of the day. The doubles game started just 30 minutes after we finished our third match. E. Shrew said in his croaked OLD voice... "I am never going to forgive you for signing up for this many games in one day." I was sore and crabby. I said back, "BITE ME". When we limped onto the court, we bit the dust 6-2, 6-2. I was not surprised. E. Shrew and I are not great TEAM PLAYERS. We are SOOOO much better playing as individuals responsible for our ownselves.
After hanging my head down in shame, all I could think about is that I needed an erotic deep massage AND food. Because we were playing back to back the whole day, we hadn't eaten anything more than a powerbar the entire day. I was HUNGRY, TIRED, and SORE. And boy did my host Tim have to deal with a CRANKY QUEEN last night! I bitched and moaned about EVERYTHING. I had to endure an impossible schedule all day. Everything was dictated by the scheduling Gods. I was ready to seize back control of my day and do what the fuck I wanted to do.
But I couldn't. I was at Tim's mercy. We had to wait for handsome David and John to get ready before we would go eat at the Saltgrass Steakhouse. I whined and I moaned. I was sooooo hungry. I was telling anyone that would listen to me that I was about to die of mass starvation, malnutrition and anorexia. Nobody believed me. We get to the Saltgrass Steakhouse and there was a 15 minute wait. Noooo.... I would surely drop dead on the spot now. I am so starving.... I was pensively looking out for vultures circling above to come down and feast upon my malnourished body. Fortunately, we eventually got seated and had a great meal. Ahhh.... things are looking up. Thank you Lord!
After a great meal and company, I was hoping to go soak in David and John's hottub. Sadly, that would have to wait too. Tim wanted us to go see the Champions Cup of Houston at the Westside Tennis Center. I pouted. I was over tennis. I wanted to go soak and then rest. When would we get to do what Brett wanted to do? I guess drinking three redbulls in one day AND losing leads to DIVA like bitchiness afterwards. I didn't win the battle. They dragged me to the Westside Tennis Center anyway. I was quiet as we watched a match between Aaron Krickstein vs. Jim Currier, then Todd Martin vs. John McEnroe. That was nice to watch old tennis pros playing each other. There was a bunch of kids in the audience from high school tennis clubs. They were getting on my nerves. Their chirpy little voices were rattling me. God... I need to lie down... the bitchiness in me would not end. Finally, we left the Westside Tennis Center after watching John McEnroe blow the first set.
I was ready to soak. But NOOOOOO.... E. Shrew was tired and wanted to go to bed. So, my sore muscles would get no relief tonight in a luxurious hot tub. Oh, the sacrifices I was making today for everyone! Poor pitiful me... WHINE.... WHINE.... WHINE..... The whining only ended when I shut my eyes. I could have sworn the world was thunderously clapping. The tired old whiney bitchy queen was finally being silenced.
This morning, I woke up feeling a lot better. I am still sore, but not nearly as hurting as yesterday. The whining had been snuffed out by a good night's rest. I wake up and I am no longer in the HouTex25 Tournament. What did I learn from this? If you can stay healthy, you have a chance to win. The moment you have an injury, you are going to be eliminated. I have never played 47 games of tennis in just six hours before. I am confident I was just as good as the other guys. The only difference is that they were physically a little better off when we met on the courts. I'll have to practice playing MORE games in a day before my next tennis tournament. My ankles and feet have to be able to adjust to a more grueling schedule!
What's on tap tonight? We are going to John and David's house to swim and soak in their hottub to relieve these old tired muscles. Then we are going to go out and tear up the nightlife in Houston, Texas. Yeehaw!