No matter where in the world I may be, Pampa, Malibu, Abilene, Virginia Beach, or Dallas, these two weeks nestled around Labor Day make the worst of situations go away. The U.S. Open. Tennis. NYC. The energy of the restless city in summer heat does something magical to this sport I love. Tonight I watched Donald Young, a promising 19 year-old, play a quality of tennis unknown to him. He took the world’s 9th ranked player to the brink of elimination, but still lost. It was a series of moments of which a talent became realized action. I love the Open.
As the days of summer semester finals draw to a close, the dread of getting everything done, and done well, grows. Thankfully, last night, I was able play a few games of sand volleyball. There are very few things I do badly that I enjoy. Volleyball is one of those activities. During these games, I tend to find myself diving for balls so far out of reach, it is absurd. None the less, it broke up the fears of impending doom due to school.
Tags: finals, sand, volleyball
Hey everyone-
I’m in the middle of finals for the summer semester, so naturally its the best time to write a post. After I wrap up the paper that will finally get me published, I’m hitting the road. Lubbock, Pampa, Albuquerque, Flagstaff, and St. George are on the preliminary list. The tennis courts in Pampa are already dreading the appearance of Team Smith at the Green & Gold Scrimmage. I’m getting a couple of new suits so I can look like a future leader in the field of American Statesmanship. (A boy’s got to dream…)
I want to write on the road, and certainly take many good pictures. There is a song by Nada Surf called “Whose Authority,” with a line that goes, “there’s a feeling that I get when I look to the west…”
The older I get, the more need the idea of “heading west.” Hopefully, I’ll parse that idea and expand on it over the next few weeks. Until then…