Okay, so, the other day I was thinking about how to combine my love for the beach with a bit of exercise. I’m no athlete, but I do enjoy a good game of tennis, and the beach… well, who doesn’t love the beach? That’s when I came up with “1855 beachside tennis.” It sounded grand, didn’t it? Like some historical sporting event. It was just me messing around, really.
Getting Started
First, I needed a “court.” I walked along the beach until I found a reasonably flat stretch of sand. It wasn’t perfect, plenty of shells and the occasional seaweed, but it would do. I used my flip-flops and a couple of driftwood sticks to mark the “net” and the baselines. Very professional, I know.
The Gear
- Racket: My trusty old tennis racket. It’s seen better days, but it still works!
- Ball: A slightly deflated tennis ball. I figured a less bouncy ball would be better on the sand.
- Opponent: My dog, Buster. He’s more interested in chasing seagulls, but he occasionally swatted at the ball.
- Attire: swim trunks, a old T-shirt and my sunglasses.
The “Match”
I started by serving. Let me tell you, serving on the sand is way harder than on a regular court. The ball doesn’t bounce predictably, and my feet kept sinking. I spent more time digging the ball out of the sand than actually hitting it. Buster watched with mild amusement, occasionally chasing after the ball when it rolled near him.
After, I tried to get some rally and have fun.
I’d hit the ball (when I could), and Buster would sometimes nudge it back with his nose. Mostly, he just ran around, happy to be at the beach.
I really tried a series of shots.
The Aftermath
After about 30 minutes, I was exhausted. Playing tennis on the sand is a serious workout! I was covered in sand, my “court” was a mess, and Buster was happily digging a hole. But you know what? It was fun. It was silly, and definitely not real tennis, but it was a great way to spend some time on the beach, get some exercise, and have a laugh. I packed up my “gear” (meaning I threw my racket and ball in my bag), and we headed home.
So, that’s the story of my “1855 beachside tennis” adventure. Would I do it again? Absolutely. Maybe next time I’ll bring a friend, or at least a dog who’s more interested in tennis. But even if it’s just me and Buster, it’s a guaranteed good time.
