I Aint Skeered
As I was careening towards a bolted down metal bench, I avoided a massive head injury only by using my hands and an arm as emergency brakes. The near collision scratched a layer of skin off both my hands, gave my left palm a deep internal bruise, and left my right forearm gleaming bright red. This was only after my first game last night in league play.
After playing a total of 45 games of tennis yesterday, every inch of my body is sore as fuck. I am literally a walking stiff this morning. My right wrist is sore. A sprain on the final point last night has left my right ankle swollen. In fact, just about every muscle in my back and neck are tense. Where is a relaxing hot tub and a good masseuse? Hell, give me a chiropractor!
These aches and pains are what I must endure just to compete with the big boys in the Texas Open 2007 in a couple weeks. My skills will be on par with my fellow competitors. The tennis champion that wins the ultimate crown will be the one that has the best endurance and stamina. I know this after participating in five tennis tournaments in the last few years.
Tonight, I face a challenger that used to be way down in the foe pecking order. Heath has suddenly gotten GREAT! I used to drub him with sheer grit, aggression, and wicked placement. But last Saturday, Heath handed me my worst defeat in a very long time. He kicked my ass 6-3, 6-0. Do I somehow bring out the best in the people I play? The fire in my belly is ready to unleash fury on Heath tonight. I hope he's ready. That can of whoopass is open. Can you smell defeat BOY?