Today’s the day. My back ablaze, the wind ruffling my skirt, thousands of eyes on me.
I had been training for months now, putting in every ounce of effort I could muster. The sleepless nights, the sore muscles, the early mornings, all of it would be worth it.
About a month ago, the international tennis championship began. Initially, things were more than rough, they felt unbearable. Matches could last for hours on end, and the summer heat persisted into the late hours of the day, scorching us as we played.
Within the first week, we had already been halved in numbers. Hundreds were sent home. With each match my exhaustion grew, but my confidence only shrank as the stakes climbed higher. But with so much going on, I barely had any time to socialize, leaving me utterly alone with my anxious thoughts.
Things proceeded as such for the following weeks: training, match, training, match, sleep. Over and over, facing a new opponent every day. Instead of giving me a sense of peace and order, the consistency of my schedule did nothing but deepen the worry lines embedded into my forehead.
Until the final week, when there were only five of us left and things started to slow down. I had imagined that by this point I’d have been sent home. Or by the least would have caved under the pressure. But oddly enough, the final week was the calmest I had felt so far. I even met someone.
To both of our surprise, we hadn’t played each other once this past month, which was honestly quite refreshing. We traded jokes and anecdotes for hours on end, as though we had known each other forever. He even gave me advice.
“Remember to aim for the left corner,” he said.
Most of us were right handed so it was all I practiced that week.
Now that the finals were here, it finally came time for us to play each other. However, my heart wasn’t pounding and my head wasn’t riddled with anxious thoughts. For once I got to see a smile on the other side amongst the sea of unfamiliar faces.
All that changed when he received my serve with his left hand. Suddenly all his advice, all his kind words and comforting jokes made sense.
“It’s only a game”, right?