The End of Escondido Tennis

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Even though I titled today's entry "The End of Escondido Tennis," don't take me literally.

I mean, just because I'm leaving doesn't mean that tennis in Escondido is over.

I admit, they'll miss me....but I suspect they'll keep playing.

And it's not over forever for me, either....just 'till I get back from this Fall's excursion.

Here's where I play tennis in Escondido. It is in Kit Carson Park...a huge, well maintained, and well used park. As you can see for yourself, the tennis facility is very picturesque, surrounded by trees, and one of those places we probably take for granted too much forgetting how lucky we are to have such a place to go and act like kids for free.

It is also one of the rare public facilities that I'm aware of (Ruth Hardy Park in Palm Springs is similar) where you can drop in any time, any day, and you'll find someone to hit with.

I've been around here enough over the last couple of years to appreciate that all in all there are a great group of people here....including some real characters.

This is the entrance to the Ray Love (appropriate name, huh?) Tennis Center:

And here's a typical perfect day - it's really quite a lovely place:

Speaking of Characters:

This is John and Randy.


John, I figure, is 111 years old. I figure that because you'd have to be that old to know all the great tennis players he knows and to have such an extensive knowledge of the game. John comes in the park and knows every single player on every single court and...believe it or not, has plenty of advice for each....right in the middle of their games. He is an institution here. The place wouldn't be the same without him.


I call Randy "Captain." I haven't quite figured this out, but I think Captain Randy may be the captain of EVERY USTA Legue Team sponsored by the park. He's the only guy there with keys to the store rooms...so if you need to squegee your court, you have to pass a little paola on to the Captain to get a squegee. But the good news is, he's always there. I'm not so sure he doesn't secretly live in the store room.

And here's me and John:

(Crap - if he's 111, I look like I could be 110...or 115. That kind of sucks.)

The Saturday Doubles Gang

Left to right you've got Don, Steve in the back, Craig, and Scott.

Sadly, Charlie is missing. Charlie comes out every Saturday - without fail. Except today.

When I first wandered out to the courts last year or the year before...these guys needed a forth.

They didn't ask me if I was any good or anything. Just an old stranger wandering around and they asked me to play with them.

I've never stopped.

These guys have as much fun on a tennis court as anyone I've ever played with.

There's a lot of things I don't like about these guys....but I don't want to dwell on that....besides, it would take too long. Use your imaginations.

What I do like about them and what I like the most about them is that they like to start early. If you know me at all, you know I'm a morning guy through and through. So if I can start at 6:30 or 6:45, I'm in heaven. So no matter how good or bad or rude or obnoxious, I'll play with anyone who's willing to get out that early.

I'm not sure how this happened -- evolution, I guess -- but the "normal" foursome seemed to end up with me, Charlie, Craig, and Steve. First come, first served and we'd show up earliest most often.

Scott was more occasional. And poor Don would show up around 9:30 or 10:00 and just have to wait until someone was injured or too tired to continue...then we'd let him in.

Just kidding about what I don't like about them. There's nothing I don't like about them. They are really great guys, all.

Here's a better look at SS Steve:

I call him "SS" for Sweat Shirt. That doesn't mean that he wears sweat shirts to play. That means he plays and sweats up his shirts so bad he typically goes through 8 shirts ever 2 hours....4 shirts/hour - one every 15 minutes. Shoot, I don't even have that many shirts.

Steve is the definite leader of the pack. Knows everyone and stops in the middle of play to say hi to every single person who walks by. If Steve doesn't show up, we don't even bother to have a game. It wouldn't be any fun.

One of the world's greatest hecklers and all time nice guys.

And here's MIP Craig:

Craig is known as MIP beacuse he won the "Most Improved Player" for all of Kit Carson Park last year....for 2007. There was a gala awards ceremony and Craig graciously accepted his expensive, magnificent trophy with the same humility and grace that he plays the game with. None.

Craig's idea - well, perhaps former idea - of a really good shot was one that he hit from behind the base line and it would hit the fence on the opposite side of the court on the fly and with enough velocity to tear the wind screen. He didn't quite have the concept that it is advantageous to actually hit the ball in the court. He seemed to believe that if you hit it hard enough that in or out was somehow irrelevant.

But...improvement. Ah, sweet improvement! This year, for example, 2008, I have personally seen Craig make 3 fairly intelligent shots. What more could you ask? That's what I call improvement.

Another one of the truly "GOOD GUYS."

The Young Singles Fellow - Quick Chris:

This here is "Quick Chris."

The very first day I wandered into the Ray Love Tennis Center, early on a weekday morning, the palce was empty. Then this guy shows up. I ask what the protocol was to get a game...if there was a list to sign up, or hang your racket on a hook, etc. He asked if I liked to play singles.

Except for interruptions for my travels and Chris's annual Alaska Fishing Trip, colonoscopies, heart surgeries, and the occassional normal array of strains, pains and pulls, Chris and I have played 2 or 3 sets of tennis every Tuesday and Friday at 7:30 since the first moment we met.

I call him Quick Chris because he's like lightening around the court. You've got to hit 3 or 4 winners to get a winner off of Chris. He's consistent, hits with plenty of pace, and takes balls early so everything is happening really fast. Plus, the Kit Carson courts are fast....like an ice rink. It's great for me. Sometimes when I go play a tournament it's like slow motion compared to working out with Quick Chris.

Our Farewell (for now) Match:

Win or lose, I never left the court after playing with Quick Chris when I didn't feel like I got a great workout. You can see how much younger he is than me, so what would you expect?

We played our last match for a while yesterday (Friday). It was a fitting finale. 3 tough sets. 3rd set tie break...won (by one of us) 7 - 5. It makes no difference which of us came out on top. It was back and forth all day. Highly competitive. As close as it gets. Gentlemanly. Tons of fun.

I'm grateful that I ran into Quick Chris that first day at the courts and look forward to renewing our wars when I return.

___________________________________

There are many others I didn't get a chance to get pics of. Loretta and her posse (Don, John, & Mark), Reggie and Scott and Neil, Burton, Susan (who jumps rope for about an hour at a time - I'm really good for about 2 minutes), Dennis (with that really nasty lefty serve), all the other Randy's, Henry, Kim, Tony, Mike (2nd to Most Improved behind MIP Craig, I'd guess), Irv who is still playing tournaments in the 75's I think, and the list could go on and on.

But, for now...

Adieu Escondido Tennis Friends.

I'll miss you all.

Ready...Set...Set...

October 16, 2008

Getting more set.

Made a "final" decision (subject to change at my discretion) to GO.

Gas prices are down. Motorhome is in good shape other than the need for a couple of new tires.

I just put in a new battery and water pump.

And, for those of you who read my blog last year, you may remember something about the automatic choke mystery. Had to have that replaced, too - that one I could not do myself.

Work is busy, but manageable on the road.

Since I work 99% of the time from my cell phone and wireless Internet connection, it doesn't really much matter, geographically speaking, where I'm doing it from.

So I notified my dad yesterday that I was coming. He cried. A lot. And he already has me booked up for some Marine Corps Birthday events. It's the Corps 233rd Birthday on November 10th. My dad, a Marine Corps Fighter Pilot in the both WWII and Korea and a flight instructor in Pensacola for a time, started his own Marine Corps League in his tiny little town of Camdenton in the Ozazrk Mountains, on The Lake of the Ozarks, in the middle of Missouri. He started it 6 or 7 years ago I guess. And then he grew it. They have about 100 members now, I think. They participate in fund raising events for the community, march in parades in their Dress Blues, conduct military funerals, own their own building, and god knows what else. It was a sad day when Dad's Macular Degeneration forced him to stop driving and not be able to participate so much in the Marine Corps League. But his buddies are going to shuttle us around to several Birthday events when I get back there. More on that later.

So now that I told Dad I'm coming, there's no way to back out.

I'll be organizing everything for travel this weekend and plan to make the first little leg over to San Clemente to spend a few days with and say goodbye to my kids and grandkids on Tuesday, October 21.

My personal excitement to be "On The Road Again" builds.