It's not often that I get the chance to play tennis against people not named Lindsay. So when my work buddy Ryan was talking about playing, I jumped at the chance to play him.

Back when Lindsay and I lived in Ankeny, I played with our buddy Nate, of Angie and Nate friend fame. Lindsay and I were playing tennis a lot back then, as there was a court on the complex. So Nate and I were at about the same level, and it would usually be pretty close. Fun times. We'd both have good pace on our shots and there'd be lots of fun little rallies.

Anything before Ankeny would have to go all the way back to late high school, when I first started to play tennis. I'd play with my friends all the time at the school courts, which had lights. Late night tennis, anyone?

Last night, Ryan and I finally met in a clash that was sure to rival Agassi/Sampras. Friends, it was Epic.

You know, or not. It might not have been.

I might have lost 6-1, 6-3.

Hee. Wait, no I did lose by that score.

Friends, good and fun rallies were few and far between. Rallies? Hello? We can use some of you now! *tumbleweed* -- I just wasn't good enough to warrant many.

The first set was, um, fast. Yessir, fast. He basically kicked the living crap out of me. There was maybe 2 close games, but no dueces and I took the one game by complete fluke -- I think I had some nice serves or something.

In the second set, I was down 3-0 and stormed back to tie it up at 3 all. Ryan was scared. I could tell. I saw the fear in the eyes. Then nature took its course and the superior player ran the board the rest of the way. Nice job, Ryan, you kicked the crap out of me. Ouch.

Next time, maybe it won't be so lopsided, hm?

You know, or maybe it totally will.

One note on shoes: I was wearing my Shox VC in the first set. I now officially really dislike them as shoes for sports. $100 shoes that suck for tennis and basketball. All because my feet are swimming in them -- they're way too damn wide. It makes it insanely difficult to plant and cut. Planting and cutting is somethign that one often has to do while playing tennis or basketball, don't you think?

Thankfully, I had my Adidas The Kobe (how awkward is that to say?) shoes with -- a quick change in between sets helped me out immediately.

But it ain't the shoes, America. It's the man.

And maybe next time, the man will be just a lil better. Then a lil better, then a little better... you get the idea.

Well now. That's all I've got -- thanks for stopping by,
Eric