Happy Writing – A story about tennis

A Day of tennis is Japan

Reading Time: 3 minutes
First thing I heard was the sound of the cicadas. The steady rhythm of the wondrous insects were everywhere yet the sight of one of them was yet to be seen. As I stepped out into the blazing summer sun I felt the heat through me. One word came to my mind – HOT. I took out a small towel I had from my tennis bag and wiped a sliver of sweat that was preening down my forehead as I walked through the heat.

There I was in my full tennis gear – white t-shirt and grey tennis shorts and Nike shoes. Not to mention my trusty head band which allowed me to play tennis without worrying about my fringe falling on top of my eyes every time I rush into follow through with a shot. Trust me that headband was a lifesaver.

I was taking the network of stations in underground tokyo to head to a certain location for a tennis match. I sat on a seat in the local train, fanning myself, glad that I have found myself a moments reprieve from the scorching heat outside. I tried my best to not take up too much space on the train as apparently I had a bad habit of doing that. It was going to be a long ride so I let my thoughts totter off and wander.

I was thinking about the coming tennis match that I had to play against a japanese person. My stereotype of japanese tennis players were that they were disciplined players who followed a tough regimen and had a methodical means of winning a point. They do not go for crazy shots but instead rely on their reliable shots to keep the ball in the court. I really respected that methodology. I was not implying that they are just defensive players but I believed that once they do get an opportunity they would come in for the kill – still in the methodical by the book sense.

I had been slacking off for a year after I graduated university. The change of pace was a bit too much for me to handle then. But after a while, I had realised that I really want to play and win tennis matches. It was a part of me that I could never part with. Thus, I had begun a gruelling challenge of getting my level of fitness back to a level which is deemed apt for a competitive tennis player.

In order to achieve such a level of fitness I had to improve myself in 2 main aspects. One was improving my speed and endurance by regularly running every week and doing some interval runs such as shuttle runs at a tennis court. The other was gaining more muscle in various parts of my body which I would be “abusing” when I play a rigorous sport such as tennis. In order to achieve the body that I needed to play the type of tennis that I would like to play competitively I had to be disciplined just like a Japanese person – thus this month of training myself in Japan was a great decision on my part.

I was jolted back to reality from my internal monologue by the sudden stop of the local train. The train conductor called out, “Tama Centre Station! All alight for Tama Centre Station!”. I quickly got myself out of my stupor and bolted for the train doors before they closed while bumping into various passengers who were getting into the train. I made a cursory quick bow and managed to spurt out “Excuse me!” and kept running till I made it to the station gantry gates when I gladly sighed a breath of relief.

Well I quickly brandished myself, as the clock was ticking and I need to find out a way to head to the area where I would be playing the tennis match. Since I was very new to the Tama Centre area in Tokyo I was awed at the new surroundings and also worried at the same time whether I might not be able to navigate myself through this new unfamiliar landscape.

I glanced at my phone to quickly access the map that puts all other maps to shame – Google maps. But before I could access the app, I received a call from a familiar number. It was my contact for the match. Well shit was ready to get down!