Losing My Head

A week ago, when we were throwing a lot of stuff away, one of the things I finally decided to get rid off was my old tennis racket. I got this while I was in high school, back when I was actually playing tennis with some regularity.

I was never very good – and came one or two spots shy of making the team, while in high school. But it was somewhat fun, and I did enjoy it. I remember the rituals of putting on grip tape, and squeaking the strings back into alignment with my fingers.

I think I used it briefly while in college and grad school, though probably not more than once a year (if that). I guess I liked having it around, as a kind of future promise – just in case I ever decided I wanted to play tennis again, I could.

There’s even a bunch of courts nearby, a good 10 minutes away. I’ve just never taken the time to actually go out and play.

So I left this outside, by the Bagster last week. And wouldn’t you know it – about ten minutes later, when I looked over… my old tennis racquet was gone. Off to enjoy a game, I hope – its first in a long, long while.

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