No-ad, No Worries

A struggling doubles tennis team copes with the 'hard to accept' result.

No-ad, No Worries

SETH swabbed the sweat from his soaked face and tossed the green ball high into the sweltering September Sunday sun. His saffron jersey stuck on his body as if he had just been in the sauna. His exhausted doubles partner, Sam, stood, mouth open, at the net, pretending to be ready to poach at any bad return. After losing three straight points, the game was tied. Each team had won one set, but his team was trailing in the last set four to five games. They were now tied in the tenth game of the last set, and the no-ad scoring was in effect. The tennis match could continue or conclude for Seth and Sam, depending on this last point.

Seth swung his Slazenger racket down at descending ball, and it landed flat into the net. What a wasted first serve, he thought. We should have won this match already, he battled with the notion of blaming it on his out of shape partner who, all the sudden, started to make a score of unforced errors.

The second serve barely bit the corner of the service box, and the opposing team’s returner shanked it high into the air. Sam took a step back from the net and got ready to slam the floating ball when he lost it in the scorching afternoon sun. The easy overhead smash turned into a dud, and the ball landed aimlessly almost a mile behind the baseline on the other side.

Game, set, and match. The players shook hands at the net.

Seth, with Sam straggling behind, walked with his head down back to their seats. Beat and fuming, Seth slammed the racket into the ground and sat down with the towel over his head.

‘Hey dude. I’m sorry, but I just ran out of gas at the end of the first set’, Sam said to him apologetically.

Seth said nothing.

‘I should’ve told you earlier. We could’ve changed the formation. I’m so sorry, man,’ Sam continued with his admission of guilt.

Seth said nothing. His face turned red.

‘I should’ve put away that no-ad point. It was an easy smash, but I messed up. We could’ve won the game, and stayed in the set. We might have finished on top. It was my bad; I’m sorry,’ Sam went on with the request for forgiveness.

Seth said nothing, packed his stuff, and stormed away to the parking lot.

Sam, looking dejected, followed him there since they had parked their cars next to each other’s. Before Sam got in his car, Seth approached him, got right up to his face, and looked hard into his eyes and said:

‘I played pitifully as well. We are a team. We win as one; we lose as one. So, no worries…You wanna get some beer?’

‘You bet…Loser buys the drinks…’, said Sam.

They laughed, bumped fists, and drove away in their own cars.  

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