Racket Stries

Tales from the tramlines. Real club players, real shanked volleys, real WhatsApp groups that got out of hand.

Friday, 8 May 2026

I would like to play tennis at my own tennis night please

It's twenty to ten on a Wednesday and I'm stood at the hob counting to fourteen.

Twelve yeses, one "probably", and Keith. Keith has replied with a thumbs up. After five years I know a Keith thumbs up means yes unless it rains, or his knee goes, or there's something good on BBC Four. So that's thirteen and a Keith. Which is either three courts or three courts and a sit-out and I won't know which until about 6.55 tomorrow.

Cartoon of a flustered tennis organiser at a desk
This is me. I don't own the hat but otherwise this is me.

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