The Victory

April 21st was a warm and bright Saturday, which almost obscured the fact that a vicious battle between two friends-turned-foes was about to take place. At approximately 11am, the two newly-made rivals rented out weapons of their trade from M- gym, as they were, at the time, without tennis racquets of their own. They then stepped, blinking, into the sunshine, collectively $1.00 poorer, and intent upon finding a court upon which to vie for victory.

Surprisingly, a quite a few courts were open. The two girls situated themselves in court seven. On one side was W., a sophomore at C- in L-, which is about a mile south of C-. On the other side was a first year tennis-class student, namely I, A., from U-.

After a bit of "friendly" warming up, W. took her position on the right side of the court to begin the first game, using the unexpectedly not-flat tennis balls borrowed from the gym to serve. Her first couple of serves ended up in the wrong box, as I think she was angling her racquet a little oddly, although as the game progressed, she improved, and got one in that went in very close to the net, which I had no hope of returning.

After winning the first game, I switched sides with W. My serves were less-than-perfect (many hit the net at first), but I almost always got it in on the second serve. During this game, if my memory serves, there was one particularly intense rally that ended with me hitting the ball just an inch out. Still, I won this game as well as the first, mostly because of my forehand—I would try on alternating returns to hit the ball on the opposite sides of the court.

The rest of the set wasn't particularly memorable, except for one odd occurrence. As W. and I were hitting, by chance, she managed to hit the ball so that it bounced off the light post and into the court. Although I hit it back, we were both curious as to whether this would've counted as "in." Therefore, I called my friend S., who we figured would know about this sort of thing, and he enlightened us; yes, it is counted as "in" as long as it hit something fixed, had not bounced before hitting this object, and landed in a legitimate area of the court.

After I had won the set with six games to one, W. said, "Because I have a date, we'll have to stop at one set." Deep inside I knew that the real reason she "had" to leave was because she feared me and the skills I had gained from one semester of tennis class, which had enabled me to beat her as well as anyone else who dared to challenge me while having only played tennis a few times. I raised my very lop-sided tennis racquet, obviously exceedingly maltreated by its previous borrowers, in victory.