"There's No Crying in Baseball"
But this is tennis... so
I keep wanting to write more to y’all about the girls’ JV tennis team for which I’m now the assistant coach. But I feel like any big revelations would be premature since I’m still so deeply entrenched in the day to day and our season is not over. I don’t know how our story will end, or even if it’s a tragedy or a comedy! (But, Honey! I’m 100% SURE it’s a drama.) So let’s call this a “Report From the Field.” Maybe it’s a sports field. Maybe it’s a battlefield. Like I said, it’s really too soon to know.
At every meet someone cries. We just never know who it will be. (But, let’s be honest. I know who it will be. It’s going to be one of two girls 80% of the time.) Realistically, there are about four contenders for shedding tears at any moment. Out of 12, that’s about a third of my charges who are emotionally unstable. Now you are starting to get a feel for volatile nature of the experience.
You remember in “A League of Their Own” when an incredulous Tom Hanks whines to his players “There’s no crying in baseball”? My response to him is, “Hide and watch, Tom!” Female athletes can cry anywhere, any time, and for any reason. And there’s very little any man can do about it. Don’t tell us not to cry. Give us a hug, a tissue, and possibly a chocolate truffle.
If JV girls’ tennis were a movie, it would be… No. It wouldn’t be a movie. It would be a series. A character driven series with no real plot. And every episode you find out, Ah ha! Who you thought was the protagonist is NOT the protagonist. She is merely a distraction. But wait! What’s going on with the villain of our series? Is she… Is she actually the hero? No. No. But she is more hero than villain. And the real hero is… ME!
It’s me. The hero is me; and the other coaches and teachers. And anyone else who shows up for these children who are so scared and insecure. The thing they are the most afraid of in the world is being embarrassed in front of their peers. I ask one freshman girl (froshperson?) if she wants to work on her serve with me and a couple of her teammates.
“No. No. My serve is good.” She answers, so afraid to have her skills laid bare for examination.
Her refusal to accept help is really a shame because her serve clocks in at negative ten miles per hour and barely makes it over the net. All she needs are a few small adjustments to her stance and her grip to make this a respectable serve. Also, she has some natural athletic ability and could easily beat many other players on the team. But that would mean actually caring about the sport, the team, and herself as a player. Working on her game would indicate that she cares and caring is just not very cool. Her mother bought her tennis shoes, but she doesn’t wear them because “they feel weird.” The shoes she has on have holes in them because they are just casual sneakers. Tennis is really hard on shoes. You need lots of extra plastic stuff around the toe area because your feet drag and skid when you change direction. Yesterday I looked down and even her socks had holes in them. I was looking straight through to her bare toes. When I mentioned she might be ruining her shoes she asked me if she could play barefoot.
“You can play however you want. But I think that will be painful.”
“Serious?!” She got excited and I realized I better retract my nonchalance.
I try to be chill and easy going as much as possible with the team because the other JV coach is much more serious. She knows about things like strategy and long term goals. She is a great coach and I’m afraid a lot of her skill may be wasted on these young chickens. I know about things like shopping and hair braiding. I understand a few things about teenage girls because I’ve been around them a lot these past few years. Coach Megan has two adult sons. She is a little more strict than I am. Together, we are a perfect complement of coaches.
Back to our drama series. This year, much to my surprise, our plucky little team is undefeated. Wilson High School has five THOUSAND students in it -- one of the ten largest public high schools in California. With that many students, the odds are in our favor we are going to have some good athletes in the mix. But! Also in our league are two other of the ten largest high schools in California. And we have kicked both of their butts pretty handily. So there! I’m not sure how we are winning. But we are winning.
Every meet we bring the drama and we bring the awkward volleys. We can’t always remember which side is the deuce side. But we look pretty stinkin’ cute in our lululemon tops and tennis skirts with “W”s on them. We don’t have any idea what a western grip is. But we do get bagels when we shut out another team. So, what exactly is the problem?
(There is no problem.)
Last week a sophomore was lamenting that we don’t get a bus to take us to away games; we rely on parents to drive the players. She said, “The football team gets all kinds of stuff and they suck! They never even win. We are undefeated and we don’t get anything.” I explained to her about selling tickets and how the school puts money into sports that make money. Tennis doesn’t make any money ever. But at least we can play until we die. Football players can only play ‘til they’re thirty if they’re lucky. I don’t know if she understood my point but I ended the conversation there. She’s a little strange -- a sweet, only child who has never learned to shut up and let someone else talk. And every time she tried to explain Among Us to me, I start twitching.
Before our warm-up a few days ago, five of the girls who are also in musical theater started singing together a beautiful song in rounds. Now that’s something that doesn’t happen on the football field, or even on the boys tennis team!
Two practices into the season I asked a few players, “What’s the deal with the radio? Are we allowed to have music on?”
“We used to last year. I dunno.” was the most concise answer I got. So I asked the head coach, who is about the cutest, kindest, most positive millennial man you’ve ever seen. (I can’t decide whether to have a crush on him or to pack him a lunch. Am I old enough to be his mother? Possibly.) He said, “Sure! There’s an amp in the storage shed.”
Well, that’s all my little pop-music-loving heart needed to get this party started! Since that day, I have spent a few (over 9.5) late-night hours curating playlists of hits that teenage girls won’t hate for our practices. The lists take a while to create because most relevant songs have explicit lyrics (NOT ALLOWED). So I have to search for the clean versions to add. I try to put in some 60s,70s, and 80s bangers as well to keep the other coaches happy and to expose the girls to the oldies. I also ask the JV girls what bands they like and I add those to the mix. The most dramatic of our players told me she loves a band I’d never heard of before so I added one song by them to each playlist. We all gathered for a huddle at practice and one of those songs came on. This drama queen was so delighted that she squealed and hugged my neck for the entire song. I’m making inroads, I thought.
Now I know what you are thinking: Nonni, those girls are so lucky to have you. And you aren’t wrong. But I’m obviously getting something pretty great out of it, too. I have stories to tell. I have mysteries to solve and tears to dry. Jeff realized my secret the other day when, after listening to another of my spirited tales of the interpersonal dynamics at practice he said, “Wait. You want to be on the team. Don’t you?” Then he shook his head and smiled.
I mean who wouldn’t want to be on this team/in this melodrama?
One dad told me the other day that this is the best thing that could’ve happened for his daughter emotional-maturity-wise. I know he meant learning integrity and team spirit. But I also know what he doesn’t see: women alone in groups -- no matter what age -- are the most powerful and amazing force in humanity. That’s really what I’m here for. That’s really what the drama builds: young women who know how to work together and how to power through defeat and discomfort. Maybe it’s embarrassing and maybe it hurts our feet. But behind the scenes of life on earth we are running the show. We get things done. We sing and dance right through the fight so that when we walk out with the trophy… well. You don’t even remember what hit you!
If you are moved to donate ten bucks to the team, please do so here:
Thank you for reading. I haven’t been attending my writing group much because of the time involved in this new coaching adventure. But I really miss writing every day, so I am working on a plan to be able to do both hobbies on most days.
Love All, (haha )
Nonni
I am eating this up. Cannot WAIT for the scripted series. ;)
Love it ! They are for sure lucky to have you as their coach !