If I say the words, “Opening Day” in Boston, your immediate reaction would be something like, “Yeah, can’t wait to see the Sox at Fenway again.” But I have another Opening Day. Mine comes when the six beautiful Har-Tru courts are ready for play at the outdoor Sudbury River Tennis Club in Framingham, MA. This is my little hamlet. My utopia. My short-term vacation spot 15 minutes from my house.
This year, April 19, 2008 is my Opening Day.
I first stepped onto those courts when I was about two years old, with diapers hanging beyond my hand-made tennis dress, sewn with love and care by our family friend, Emily Taygan. At that time, the courts were a velvety rich red clay. The kind that sticks to your socks and the pockets of your shorts, and stays there no matter how many times your mother washed them. Those were the times when you opened a can of white tennis balls with a key, and if you weren’t careful, you could cut your hand along the rim of the can. I used to sweep the little porch that overlooked courts 1 – 4 with a broom 10 times too big for me.
This year, April 19, 2008 is my Opening Day.
I first stepped onto those courts when I was about two years old, with diapers hanging beyond my hand-made tennis dress, sewn with love and care by our family friend, Emily Taygan. At that time, the courts were a velvety rich red clay. The kind that sticks to your socks and the pockets of your shorts, and stays there no matter how many times your mother washed them. Those were the times when you opened a can of white tennis balls with a key, and if you weren’t careful, you could cut your hand along the rim of the can. I used to sweep the little porch that overlooked courts 1 – 4 with a broom 10 times too big for me.
I loved watching my Dad play and just being there. The clay had a certain smell. The gravel in the parking lot had a certain smell. The porch had a certain smell. Then, Dad would get me on the court and toss me balls. I didn’t even have a racquet in my hand. I would run around the court, catching and throwing the balls, pretending to “play tennis.”
As I grew older, and I really learned how to play the game, SRTC became a part of me. We could “run down and hit a few” before or after supper. Since it was open from dawn until the last squeeze of light, we could go there to warm up before a tournament.
Fast forward to 2008. I have had my own membership at SRTC for several years and serve on the Board of Directors. Many of the members have been there for decades, and I meet new people every spring. As a working mom with an insanely busy schedule, I have become very efficient with my tennis games. I have learned to love early morning tennis. I am talking 6 a.m. when the birds are waking up. I go there with the hushed anticipation of stepping onto a freshly rolled court. My sneakers make the first marks onto the court. Maybe there won’t be a lot of traffic noise along Edgell Road. I can hear the sound of the ball hitting the racquet and look forward to a great workout before the rest of my day begins.
My point? I hope you have a place you really look forward to being at. do you have a place where you find comfort and reenergize?
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