March 4 - Competition

I typically play pickleball with my family. We live on the end of a not-so-busy culdesac and own our own net, leading to some very demanding, very competitive family pickle tournaments.

I think I always assumed that was how everyone played pickleball. Leave your blood, sweat, and glory out on the field. Fight over every close call. Sometimes, not always, but definitely sometimes, someone storms off in a frustrated huff. It turns out that, actually, not everyone plays pickleball that way.

Today I played some pickle with 3 friends. Two were learning for the first time, leaving me and my boyfriend to really show them the ropes. Now, my family is very supportive. Very. We’re not just a bunch of competitive gorillas stomping all over the court wishing ill on anyone who stands on the opposite side of the net. However, as I am realizing as I get older, we are more competitive than most.

After a quick warmup and a basic pickle lesson, I was ready to play for points. However, one of my friends was fully not.

Can’t we just keep hitting back and forth, I like to chit chat and not be stressed, she asked when I mentioned it might be time for some serious pickle play. I was slightly floored. In my eyes, the whole point of pickle is to be slightly stressed.

My other friend saw my face and started laughing. Syd, you can’t come to play pickle with Larkin and not expect to play pickle competitively.

I was now entirely floored. Was this not how everyone felt? Was I really that much more competitive than most? Was I seriously the only person standing there with a racquet ready to achieve some self-validation out of points won?

I mean, I said, I will be happy doing whatever the group wants to do.

We ended up compromising. Plenty of rallying and plenty, thank goodness, of competitive pickle play. And, might I add, there was no huffing and no tears.