A Different Kind of Champion

I recently returned from the USTA League 40 & Over 4.5+ National Championships in Indian Wells, CA with nine other fantastic women. We reached the finals before getting edged out by Southwest. It was a great run. But I am not going to give you a play-by-play of the weekend. What came out of that weekend was much more than a set of great wins and proof that New England remains a dominant force in tennis in the United States. 

What I am going to offer might surprise you. It begins with something one of my teammates, Kim McCrohon, wrote. She suffered a mild heart attack just prior to our first match at USTA New England Sectionals back in August. She was rushed to a nearby hospital while I was on court. We were devastated. This just doesn’t happen to people like us, we thought. But Kim kept her spirits up – even while in the hospital – and we knew we had to stay focused and keep our eye on the prize. She describes the anticipation of our results from sectionals:

“I kept getting texts from people wondering how I was. I’d respond quickly and then look again to see if I missed any call or another text from one of my teammates. Finally, it came. I picked up the phone. Two words appeared, “We won!” My mouth dropped, and I threw the phone on the bed. “Going to Nationals!” I proclaimed! My husband raised his eyebrows. “I’m going,” I said. “Heart attack, shmart attack, I’m going. Whatever it takes!”

Two weeks later, Kim’s doctor told her he didn’t think she would be cleared to go to Nationals.  He knew the 4.5/5.0 level and thought it would be too strenuous for her just-repaired diagonal artery and its new stent – not to mention her battles with cystic fibrosis and diabetes.  After some convincing, she was able to schedule her required stress test right before the team had to leave for Nationals.

After weeks of strenuous rehabilitation, medication and a strong will to overcome her aliments, Kim passed her stress test and was cleared to play with us at Nationals!

It was unbelievable. Just two months prior, Kim was lying in the hospital after a heart attack and now she was on the plane to Indian Wells with us all. Admittedly, we had been a little worried about her condition, but once she was on that plane with us, we all forgot and were just thankful she could join us. The flight seemed quick. We were all anxious to get there and practice. 

The next day, we had two practice sessions. Everyone played. We all felt good. We were all equals. We were here for a reason and we all knew what it was like to work hard to achieve a goal. Kim inspired us. The title and pride that comes with it were the driving force.   

At 7:30 a.m. on October 25, we played Middle States for our first match and lost a tight one 2-3. Then came Eastern. We knew we had to win to even have a prayer to stay in the running for the Final Four. We pulled that one out 3-2. The next morning, before our first match against Texas, we had a team pow wow. “We need the next two matches, and we need to win them big, 5-0 or 4-1,” our captain said. We also exclaimed, “Believe!” The team rallied and won 4-1. Believe. We then faced Pacific Northwest. Kim got the call to play doubles, and she was more than ready. 

Kim and her partner played phenomenal tennis against one of the strongest doubles teams in the tournament. Although they did not win, the team pulled it out 4-1. Believe! It came down to Middle States and Pac NW that afternoon. New England had 13 individual wins to Pac NW’s 8. If Pac NW swept 5-0, we would be tied in individual wins and would have to look to individual losses or sets lost to determine who would go to the Final Four. We needed Middle States to pull out only one match in order for us to advance by one individual win. New England nervously watched the match. It looked like we had one chance with one of the Middle States singles players, and in fact, she did it. She got that one win, and New England got the berth to the Final Four. 

One Sunday morning, we beat Mid Atlantic in the semis and then lost in the finals to Southwest. We all played great tennis but the other team was better that day.

We arrived home late Sunday night, tired and a little sore, but satisfied on many levels. It was a thrill to represent New England at the national level, some of us for the second year in a row. We appreciated being able to continue to fuel our passion for the game of tennis and make lifelong friends and fantastic memories along the way. 

As for Kim –our inspiration– she writes, “This time of my life will always be embedded in my brain as one story that ended happily even though we didn’t take first prize. I’ve said it before, but I think it’s worth repeating, “Enjoy life, every moment of it.”

Dedicated to the 2013 40+ 4.5/5.0 New England team: Alison Albers, Sue Corey, Davida Dinerman, Pam Holding, Sally Kellogg, Jennifer Lesnick, Wendy McCabe, Kim McCrohon, Hope Pascucci, Deb Simpson, Maureen Sumner, Megan Storing, Nancy van Siclen.

Sentimental

“Sentimental.”

 One definition is:  Of or prompted by feelings of tenderness, sadness or nostalgia.

 Yup that’s me.

One example is of my overnight camp years. Having attended Camp Matoaka for 10 summers as a camper and a counselor, I have accumulated memories and friendships that will last a lifetime. Fortunately, there are many others who are just as eager to relive those days, and it doesn’t take but a photo of a loon on Facebook to trigger a slew of memories.  Now that my children bleed camp (Tel Noar), I can experience the excitement first hand once again.

I am also sentimental when it comes to my children, who are now 15 and 12 years old. They are old enough to have memories of when “they were little,” as they say. We have more than a dozen movies of their childhood which we still love to watch. Although I didn’t keep every bib or blanket, there are a few items which are difficult for me to part with.

 One of those items is books, some of which were mine growing up. I can look at a book, let’s say, “Harry By the Sea,” and remember when I would read that to them. If it is good shape, and most of them are, then I feel we should save it for their own kids, my grandchildren.  School work is another problem area for me, especially for large projects or artwork. I figure they worked so hard on it, how can I just toss it? Maybe I don’t keep every single paper, but I have my fair share of worksheets, drawings and reports.

There is one item which I know I have kept too long. It didn’t really match the décor, and I haven’t used in a many years, but that sentimental value was overpowering.

The item is a white glider rocking chair.

That rocking chair accompanied me through midnight and daily feedings, hours of storytime, giving medicine and cuddling away sadness. I used to sing a song to each of the kids before bed, which recounted what they did during the day.  We took pictures of the kids on that chair. Then they used to climb on it to read a book once in a while too.

Have I sat in said rocking chair in the last two years? Five years? No. But it was there and represented a time in my life which I didn’t want to give up easily. I think Brad would have given it up years ago, but he knows me well enough to even ask. So when I recently told him I wanted to give it to any of the several people in my office who recently had a baby or are going to have one soon, he said calmly, “That would be nice.” What he was really thinking was, “It’s about time.”

When I asked one man in my office, who recently became the father of twins, if he would like the chair, he responded with a resounding “Yes!” almost before I finished asking. Then and there I knew this was the right choice. He picked it up yesterday. 

Why am I now able to give away this sentimental piece of furniture? Although I will never forget the past, and I might even dwell in it too long sometimes, I know there is so much for us in the future.  I am on the verge of aging into a new decade. The kids are growing into amazing adults. I have a terrific husband. We still have both sets of parents and lots in the way of family and friends.  I love my job, and I can still wield a tennis racquet better than the average bear. My present tense is “rockin’.”

There is a void in the corner of my bedroom, and I will think of that rocker for a few more days. But I can also picture my friend feeding his children, reading stories and making wonderful memories, just like I did.