Green fuzz particles exploded in a puff, left behind the tennis ball that shot out at the imaginary "Svetlana." The flying fuzz swirled suspended in the air around Frankie's head. After 30 years at this game I could smell the fuzz. I knew the satisfaction Frankie must be feeling - solid, loaded-up, driven, victorious. That ball's not com'n back! The wiz-swang sound as the ball spun past my head. Warm sunshine. Vance & Rox crawling after baby SaviLucia on the side court. Magic sleeping in the shade. A basket-roller half filled with tennis balls at my side. It's great to know tennis. It's great to know it so that I can give it to Frankie, Vance, Rox and soon to SaviLucia. It's great because of moments like this. Flying fuzz off Frankie's topspin backhand. She's going to load-it-up!
No comments:
Post a Comment