Tying Up Loose Ends
From this day forward, I am making a conscious effort to be off my man period. If I were laying on a psychiatrist's sofa, they would eventually get me to start spilling the beans about why I have been so angry lately. It wasn't about the itty bitty nips thing. That was just a smokescreen. The heart of the matter is that some friend of mine injured my pride lately. It left a bitter taste in my mouth.
Let's start at the beginning. I put a lot of time, money, and effort into improving my skills when I hired a tennis coach from Argentina. I wanted to make the jump to playing in a higher division. I was tired of making it to the finals in the lower division, only to lose in nail biters.
Here is where the tale of woe gets interesting. I met the Devil, who I'll name "M". I was promised a life rich with the taste of victory if only I clung onto his coattails. That meant leaving behind my good friends Whipping Boy and E.Shrew, who had to languish around in their mediocrity. On that fateful day, I sold my soul and danced with the devil.
The Devil and I honed my skills to ensure that I would be at home among the brightest stars in the local tennis world. My skills jumped by leaps and bounds. There seemed to be a dark arts magic swirling around the sudden lethalness in my groundstrokes. My new powers were truly awesome to behold. I was now a card carrying member of a more elite club. There was a certain status attached to being part of this elite club.
But the day soon came where I was told by the Devil himself that he had "mastered" me. After a 6-4, 6-3 victory, he announced he would not be playing me anymore. I was dumbfounded. Mastered me? The Devil did put an impressive win streak together against me, but mastered me? Was I the unwitting star in Mean Girls?
I was not going to be discarded this way! I was sold bright dreams, and ended up leaving behind Whipping Boy and E.Shrew. It was at this moment that I felt the tinge of betrayal. The very fabric of my soul was on fire and ready to ignite. I was now left with nothing. Neither Whipping Boy nor E.Shrew would have anything to do with me on the tennis courts. My smugness had turned them off completely.
The tragic tale doesn't end here folks. I had an axe to grind with the Devil named "M". There was one weakness there that I could exploit. You see, "M" is not a very good team player. In doubles, the Devil fails miserably. With three seasons of a doubles league under my belt, I knew I could exact my revenge and drive a stake right through "M's" cold black heart.
So, I plotted my comeback. The Devil would RUE THE DAY he ever disrespected me! That day finally came last Saturday at the University of New Orleans. The Devil was being his usual chummy self with the best players in the GSNOT league. Because an even 12 players showed up, we had the rare opportunity to play doubles sets with the same people.
The Devil and I played five sets against each other while taking turns sharing and switching out the same doubles partners. Something was terribly wrong with him. His vaunted serve was missing. He missed 90% of his first serves and double faulted a staggering twenty times! At the net, the Devil stumbled badly hitting most of his shots WAY OUT. I made a few errors, but my steely desire to win carried the day. I triumphantly went 4-1 in sets against the Devil. All his dreams were crushed. It was an achievement that I'll fondly treasure always. :)
Now there is this tournament in Miami in January that both the Devil "M" and I will partake in as competitors. The trash talking has escalated via email and text messages since his humiliating performance on the courts last weekend. I have already warned him... hell hath no fury as a Coonass scorned. Give me a challenge and tell me that I am not good enough, and I'll rise to the occasion!