Tennis Prose




Jul/10

29

The Florida tennis journey

By Christian Koskorelos

I stared into Grosjean’s eyes on a sunny day in Florida…
caught in a crossfire of future and past champions,
I followed him to the parking lot and watched him get into his black Porsche…
I was left with dust, dust from the wind…
I turned to my right and there was Nadia Petrova and to my left was John Evert…
and there was me…
caught in a world…a world which I thought was make believe…
there I was…a fictional character, a person,
with a bag over his shoulder…
ready to play,
but the day soon turned to night,
and I followed the bright stars of Boca Raton back to my friend Lou’s
in Coconut Creek, hungry, dejected,
lost, lost in paradise,

There was Tampa…and there was Naples, there was Saddlebrook Tennis Resort and there was Sanchez-Casal…
There was ITA…and there was Bolletieri’s…
and there was me…
the blue skies, the planes, the green grass, fast cars,
and broken dreams…

I stared into Grosjean’s eyes…
and said to myself…
I wanna be like that guy…
but the reality was…
I thought I was doing a good thing, by going…
but I couldn’t escape the girl,
that was trapped inside my mind,
perhaps,
there was something pulling me
or maybe…
maybe not…
I was on a mission
a mission alright…
a mission
to be the best…

I made my rounds…up and down the coast…lost in a world of beauty
Sometimes,
it’s the little places,
that make it…
there was Pompano Beach,
and Deerfield Beach,
and Boca Swim and Tennis Club,
and Patch Reef Park in Boca,
and Pioneer Park near Lou’s…a small time club…

maybe it’s time for the little places…instead of the big places…
Love of the sport…what happened to the love?
And there was the wall I played against next to a church in Fort Lauderdale…
imagine that…
2,000 miles away…he still hits against the wall…

trying to impress a girl he met on a computer…
but she never saw him play
yeah, maybe it’s time
for the little places,
the little things…
to end the war…
the war…
of tennis.

The author was a former NCAA tennis player and has instructed at the Bolletieri Academy in Bradenton, FL and several clubs in North Jersey. He currently coaches prospective players in New Jersey while working to perfect his heavy topsin baseline game at Overpeck Park in Leonia, NJ. He has a degree in Communications from Fairleigh Dickinson University.

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8 comments

  • Dan Markowitz · July 29, 2010 at 5:37 pm

    Interesting read, but I would’ve liked for the author to write about why he thought of himself as a fictional character, for one, and why and how he had lost his love for the game and looked at tennis as a war.

  • Scoop Malinowski · July 29, 2010 at 7:45 pm

    It’s an abstract piece I think, it’s a captivating sincere essay. Christian is a good man, good player too. He has a unique creative writing style unlike his tennis game which tends to be one dimensional 🙂 (Go to the net more Chrisian)

  • Dan Markowitz · July 29, 2010 at 8:56 pm

    Even in an abstract piece you need something to ground it. It’s dream-like and moving, but it needs some mooring, IMO.

  • Scoop Malinowski · July 30, 2010 at 1:55 am

    Yeah, exactly, wouldn’t mind to read a part II or III,

  • vinko · July 30, 2010 at 3:05 am

    The photograph is quite interesting. They’re using wood rackets and wearing traditional tennis clothes so it must have been taken some years ago. Does anyhone know who the players in the shot are?

  • Jim Miller · July 30, 2010 at 2:31 pm

    Author has a very nice writing style. Borders between reality and stream of consciousness. Would like to read more stories of his tennis experiences.

  • Scoop Malinowski · July 30, 2010 at 3:14 pm

    Vinko, ir’s just some random players at a local club here in north NJ in the 1970s.

  • vinko · July 31, 2010 at 1:44 pm

    It’s a nice photograph. It really captures that era.

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