My First Pickleball Lesson
It seems you can teach an old(er) dog new tricks
It wasn’t until we started RVing that I heard about pickleball. The RV resorts we stayed in were alive with the ping of balls all day. I wondered what all the excitement was about, but since I still worked full-time, I figured learning pickleball would have to wait for those retirement years.
After an unexpected layoff, I decided to take advantage of all the amenities our resort community offers.
I planted a summer garden in our community garden plots, took a bracelet-making class, and learned about lapidary.
I joined the pottery club and made my first dish with a dragonfly. I also attended my first community dance and spent a lot of time in the pool and hot tub.
And that’s where I got recruited for pickleball. Phil promised me that I shouldn’t worry about my lack of athletic ability or previous experience. He offered to give me some lessons to assure me that I could learn.
I was nervous about my first lesson. I remember those painful times in phys ed class being picked last for every sport. I remember the bruises on my arm from volleyball and the feeling of riding home from the skating rink with a wet butt from all the spills I took on the ice.
