45-Love by Ray Krueger

Author:Ray Krueger
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: SPORTS & RECREATION/Tennis
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2012-08-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

I love to grind my opponents into the ground like I did with the Berserker (without the outbursts). It was something I discovered when I started playing tournaments.

Years ago, I was destroyed by one of the top guys in the East in a 35 and over indoor winter tournament. He was scheduled to play me again in another tournament that summer.

Well, at least it is 95 degrees I told myself. My back won’t get stiff. I had been battling back issues all the way back then and figured I would get a good, if short workout against a top player.

He was not a “good winner.”

After he beat me in the winter he went on about how he was a top player in college and was the best player in the country in his age group, but didn’t have time to play nationals. “Making too much money in real estate, you know.”

He was a good serve and volleyer. But I was determined to make him suffer.

He showed up in his fancy sports car with his dismissive attitude.

“I have a party to go to after this,” he told the tournament director. “I need to get out there as soon as possible.”

It was a half hour before our scheduled match time, but I said I was ready. I should have made him wait. But in those days, the rankings were decided by a human beings and a default win would do me no good. But for psychological reasons alone, I should have made him stew, but I wasn’t thinking that way.

I wanted physical torture, not mind games.

I lost the first set, 6-1, but it wasn’t easy for him. I was returning well and hitting passing shots off his serve. On my serve I was extending points, extending games.

I noticed a change in the second set. He started staying back. I don’t know if it was fatigue or my passing shots but he was in my world now.

I got up a break, 2-1. I played a very long game but held to make it 3-1. His turn to serve brought more long points.

We went back and forth, corner to corner. Angle to angle. I took him wide to his backhand, and had an open court for the put away. He did not come back.

He REALLY did not come back. The next court was open and he had walked across that court and ended up on a bench between that court and the next one.

He wasn’t getting up. He just sat there. I walked over to him. I didn’t saying anything to him, but he whispered “I’m done.” His face was red and his eyes cloudy.

I asked “Are you sure?” He did not respond. I couldn’t tell if he was being dismissive or about to pass out. I walked over to the fence and told the tournament director he said he was done. The tournament director came up to him and asked him if he was OK. He didn’t answer. He told him he needed to get inside.

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