Fencing & Tennis
In college, we were required to get two credits in Physical Education. Personally, I didn’t see a point for college to have gym classes unless you wanted to be part of the athletics department.
Anyway, the first gym class I opted to take was a Fencing class with Don. He took it because of the sword play he could learn for Drama and plays. I took it because without hockey being offered, nothing really interested me. Don and I spent most classes ‘dueling’ each other while quoting movies.
The next semester I took tennis. This class I attended alone. I had some natural talent at tennis and actually plaid it each year up in Vermont, so it seemed a natural choice. The one difference between fencing and tennis was that in tennis class there were some real ‘jocks’ in the class.
When the class first started people partnered up with each other for practice and such. There was one guy there who was rather odd. He showed up with an old wooden racquet that he may have gotten at a garage sale. He also wore a Burger King visor as a fashion statement even though he never worked there. He needed a partner and I had no problem teaming up with him.
At tennis, he was terrible. We barely got a volley going, but I didn’t care. I was hardly trying to be competitive. Some of his hits were nowhere near the court. We spent more time chasing the ball than actually playing.
Halfway through the semester, the teacher tried to get some sort of tournament going. She picked people out of a hat to compete against each other and I was slotted against one of those ‘jocks’. He immediately had a hissy fit. He wanted to play a friend or anyone else besides me. I remember feeling personally offended. I also remember thinking to myself ‘why does this guy not like ME?!’
I told the guy “C’mon. Let’s just play.” He agreed, almost belligerently. I proceeded to beat him. I beat him bad. The more he was losing, the more frustrated he got and the worse he played. When we turned in the score to the teacher, he didn’t even stay. I told the teacher, 3-1, 3-0.The teacher assumed it was the other guy who won. I corrected her. She was shocked.
Insulted, I commented, “I can play. Just because I agree to practice with someone who just wants to learn doesn’t mean I have no skill. I hope good sportsmanship counts in this class.” She nodded. I may have gained some respect in her eyes after that day, but I lost some for her. I may have gotten a poor grade in that class because I practice with a novice tennis player in a novice tennis class. That day I learned that Tennis is indeed an ‘elitist’ sport.