Even before we got the Wii and Callum became a pro at tennis, Neel had been talking about teaching him to play. We both have played off and on in our distant past (I calculated on Sunday that it had been 25 years since I'd last played tennis. YIKES.), but this was a pastime that followed neither of us into adulthood.

Neel was talking about it so much that Callum and I decided to get him a racket for Father's Day. And really, for this to work, we had to get Callum a racket too. Happy Father's Day, Callum! And suddenly, tennis is back in our lives.

It's been a long time. When I was really young, younger than Callum is now, we lived in a great old house across the street from the small liberal arts college that my parents had attended and where they met. That college campus was a big, big part of my life when we lived in that house. All sorts of memories have come flooding back as I write this. I'm sure I'll start exploring them on this blog at some point. Anyhoo... tennis. Right directly across the street from our house was the entrance to the college and the college tennis courts. Mom and Dad, you'll have to help me out here, but my first memory of being on a tennis court is of riding my trike around as my parents played. We did this a lot. Lots of Saturdays, I think. And I may have whapped the ball a time or two. The image in my mind is of old, cracked courts and ginormous magnolia trees with lots of dropped leaves. I think, on one side of the courts, you had to go down a hill to get in. Am I right? Those courts aren't there anymore.

We moved, and moved again, and I was a teenager and there were courts nearby again. Around that time I was also going to camp, and every summer I signed up for tennis as one of my classes. Again, beat up courts surrounded by trees always dropping their leaves around the edges. My main memories of tennis at camp are how bloody hot it was and this one camp counselor who made the mistake of calling me, "Watch" one day when he needed to know what time it was. Of course I developed a HUGE crush on him (I was twelve, people, give me a break.) and we got to be great friends. But again, I digress. I didn't really think I learned much at those tennis sessions, but I learned on Sunday that some of it "took."

So here's the really cool part. The house that we live in now is several blocks away from a local university campus. We're not really as connected to this campus as I was to the one I grew up near, but we get down there enough. Bike rides, usually. Someday football. But now, there's tennis. So this school recently opened a multi-million dollar indoor/outdoor tennis facility, and man, it's a doozy. We thought that the outdoor courts were free to the public, but that was too much like history repeating itself. Still, for a mere $10 an hour, you could get a court, indoors or out. Indoors: you know, air conditioning. Not bloody hot.

The goal was to introduce Callum to tennis, and we did that. But I was surprised at how much fun Neel and I had. My backhand is still (oddly enough) better than my forehand, and I'm clearly tilting my racket, causing some serious pop-ups. I never had a serve before, but Sunday, I did. And by "having a serve", I mean "throw the ball up, hitting it with the racket and getting it across the net." Go figure. Neel's skill is what he remembered, and he did a great job guiding Callum through his first attempts. And Callum, as with everything he tries along these lines, picked it up quickly. He amazes me.

So here we are. Tennis. Looking for a chance to go back. After my arm stops killing me.