Inklings 2022

Sweat. Tears. Roars of rage and passion. They’re both going at it. Letting each other know who is dominant; who is strong and who is weak. Two grizzlies fighting over a fish? No, my opponent and I bickering over whether my blistering down-the-line forehand landed in or out. Arguments like these are common in the game of tennis, causing delay of game, momentum shifts, and a multitude of unpleasantries for players and spectators. A well-known, yet seemingly underfunded sport that cannot afford to hire enough referees for tournaments. This is the sport I married. Tennis and I have a toxic, love-hate relationship. I cheat on the game with my photography passion, nights out with friends, bad diet choices, etc. The game then retaliates with sub-par practices, tough losses, 8:00 am matches in Boca, and my coach being on my case about every little thing. As one gets older, the relationship with tennis changes. The age divisions dictate how happy or sad one may become with this sport. The 12-and-under division is your honeymoon; a newlywed married to his one true love. Every boy walks around the tournament grounds with a headband on, thinking he will grow up to be Rafael Nadal. That was me in 2015. The 14-and-under division is your first four years of marriage. You have settled in, feel a certain level of comfort, and are keen on what path you and your spouse will follow. By this stage, players decide on one of three paths. The first is, “This sport is not really for me. I will be a recreational player. I am separating from my partner.” The second is, “I love this game and this game loves me. I will be homeschooled and train with the goal of becoming a professional tennis player. I am committed and in love.” And finally, the third category that I belong to is “I want to stay in school, but I am good enough Love for the Game Sam Gelber 41