Tennis Anyone?

Recently a nephew appeared out of the mist and emailed me in response to a letter I sent him outlining a family email group that was getting some action. It has been years since we've communicated and it brought back memories.

His mother taught me to play tennis when I was perhaps 10 - 12 years old. This would have been in 1954 - 56. My brother and his wife Micky lived in Midland, MI. Dean, my brother, was a fledgling chemist at Dow Chemical and Micky his beautiful young wife.

Micky came from a family well known in the Upper Peninsula for its athletic prowess. I believe at least one of her brothers played for the University of Michigan tennis team. The father had built a tennis court along side the family home and business in little Traunick, MI. Micky's Mom and Dad ran a general store and U.S. Post Office in Traunick and raised a family of 9 children.

Micky was quite an athlete in her own right. I know my sister ran against her at the Alger County track meet where schools in the area met for a showdown each year in another little community called Chatham, MI. (My sister won)

I wanted to play tennis. I had made my wishes known to my father. Finally, when I made a trip from Munising to Midland to spend a week with my brother, my Dad gave me $25 to buy a tennis racket. I do not know when I went to Midland, but when ever these trips took place usually my Mother and Father drove me to Indian River, MI and Dean, my brother would drive from Midland and pick me up. We would likewise work the same exchange for the return trip. These were days before the Mackinac Bridge and the crossing from St. Ignace to Mackinaw City was made by car ferry.

Monday came and Micky and I set out for downtown Midland to buy a tennis racket while Dean set off for the Dow plant he worked at. Micky help me select a racket that fit my young frame and yet was large enough that I could grow into it in later years. I believe it was a signature racket and the name on the racket was Don Budge. It had a wooden head, and the small face typical of the rackets used in those days. I even got a racket press which added prestige to the whole show.

After that Micky took me to a park where there were tennis courts. She patiently taught me how to play. I remember spending a lot of time throwing the ball in the air just right so you could achieve the classic overhand serve. We spent what seemed to be hours volleying and Mick patiently exercise my young body. Micky was surprisingly good, she had the footwork down, a nice stroke and could place the ball wherever she wanted at will. Micky was a good teacher, maybe she missed an opportunity to teach tennis and who knows what her life might have been like.

After a week of daily practice and patient workouts I returned home. One of the hardest thing Micky had to do was teach me the scoring system. I have always thought Love a peculiar substitute for zero. In the tie games AD IN or AD OUT was another set of strange expressions. I got the hang of it though and returned to the U.P. having a good set of basics thanks to my sister-in-law Micky.

We had no tennis team in high school in Munising. About the most we had was down at the Bay Shore Park there were a couple of tennis courts overlooking Munising Bay where you could get a work out playing those in town who knew the game. I fared well, and always had enjoyment playing the game.

I never took up the game as an adult other than an occasional match here or there. However, I always remembered Micky's lessons, particularly on how high to throw the ball for the serve. In later years I did become a fair Racquetball player. I joined a club, took third in the Class B men's club tourney and enjoy many years of "Rollout Bleu!"

Now, I still think about playing tennis, it can be an old man's sport too you know. There isn't much opportunity here in Arkansas. The closest club that would have organized leagues is in Jonesboro some 25 miles distant. Other than that you'd have to play pick up games at the local parks here in Paragould and I don't feel the enthusiasm for that. So who knows, maybe some day before I'm too old I'll pick up a racket and play some again. I will always remember Micky if I do.