In the week before Valentines, Magoo and I decided to embark on a little game of love. Love-Love that is. Tennis. I have been trying to take lessons for months. It has been a series of events that prevented me from actually making it to the class offered on Monday nights. I decided, instead, we were up for some love action. Back and forth. Me him. Him me. The ooomph of the shot. Hitting hard and attempting to place a winner. Trying our best to be good sports. We did not keep score. That wouldn't be fair. The game of love is in reality not fair. It is not meant to be balanced and equal. One person wanting more with the other left holding their feelings. One feeling abused and used as if the weight was on their racket, having to defend and hold each shot. Each with different skills and needs. Plus there are no losers. At least there shouldn't be. We may not be able to achieve a perfect equilibrium, we can still hope there is no loss. That we are given a reward for our efforts and angst, even if it does not mean we actually win all the time. But simply that we are not losers and we are not left with a loss. In the end, no one should be considered one or even made to be one. That is not the goal or the reason we agree to play. It is never the idea when we step on the court. While it may be dicey in the middle; tempers flaring, openly angry, raised voices, and aggressive shots, when all is said and done it is still a game. One meant to be played and enjoyed. With heart, sole, and passion. With sweat and tears. With the aches and pains of breaks; the game, our hearts and wrists and ankles. Because it is still Love. But is it really about tennis any more?
Labels: Mr. Magoo
Is it bad that the first thing I thought of when I read this is "If you play tennis together, do you also get to shower together?"
I like the way you think.....
I enjoyed this!
Ah yes, but it's true love-love when you still love your opponent in the end and don't mind smelling each other's sweat. :)
clever post, i like it!