Living in Betty Suarez Land
Are we not all insufferable at times? Let's be honest. How often do you find yourself believing that the whole world revolves around you? Consideration for what is going on in other's lives is just not something you freely give. The only thing that matters is how our lives and dreams are impacted by others. In a nutshell, we often live in our own Betty Suarez Land.
I learned the perils of living in "Betty Suarez Land" last night. It has been no secret to those close to me that I have been stewing for weeks. I wanted OUT of my local men's tennis league. In fact, I have been scheming to abandon the league all week.
Why all the hissing and Diva-like behavior? Because I was sick and tired of being paired up with an individual who I deem to have a serious flaw in his tennis game. He couldn't do something so simple as serving the ball across the net in the opposite square. I was willing and ready to rattle off the names of eight individuals who I am better than. While these individuals have enjoyed the thrill of being paired up with great doubles partners, I was stuck with a tennis nincompoop.
The only thing that stopped me from calling my team captain is that I knew my tongue would split in two. Venom would spit out rendering nothing but ugliness on the intended victim. I couldn't trust myself. Subtlety knows not me.
My assigned doubles partner last night was once again the person I pegged as the league nincompoop. When news came that we would be pitted against E.Shrew and a guy with a solid reputation on the courts, my heart sank. I could easily imagine E.Shrew gloating across the net from me with his shit eating grin. Text messages of laughter would surely come rolling in from Whipping Boy after we were trounced. I resigned myself to accept my fate. I would be a martyr making the ultimate sacrifice for my team.
What happened on the court last night would have never been imaginable to me in a million years. My doubles partner brilliantly served and landed so many powerful Aces, that I swear there were smoke on the balls. E.Shrew couldn't even blink before the ball inexplicably bounced past his motionless racquet. Even my doubles partner's ground strokes were stealth-like deadly. I dare say that his game was better than anything I have EVER done. We beat E.Shrew and his partner 6-4, 6-3 last night, giving our team a complete sweep for the night.
When I asked the formerly worst doubles partner in league what changed to get his serve to be so powerful, he told me that he was tired of letting down his team each week. He practiced tossing the ball a thousand times each day outside his home. I thanked my lucky stars that I never made that call to my team captain. Sometimes it's not all about you Betty.