#158
We’re at the tennis club.
We’re about 60 minutes into 90. I served two aces and got hit in the nuts on a return.
Me: Give me a second.
I’m instantly on the ground, centre court, I dropped my racket. It was loud. I might have said fuck or shit or something else. I almost puked.
A: Are you going to puke?
J: Do you want some ice?
Me: just give me a second.
The moms of tennis know enough to leave me be. I lay on the hard blue ground, wondering if something popped, if there is a bruise. If I’m bleeding and it just hasn’t run down my leg yet. I’m wondering if I’ll be able to walk. Stand up. It feels like the end.
I hobble over to the bench, my racket still in the middle of the court. I sit cross-legged.
Me: It’s been a while since that happened.
The courts are full tonight. My groin hurts. Hurts, that’s not strong enough.
Me: I hate to be a party pooper ladies, but I think I’m done.
They pick up the court cost for the night, which seems a nice gesture.