This past weekend, I went to my VERY FIRST overnight tennis tournament. It was all very exciting. Here's how it went down.
4:05 p.m. Get out of psych lab. Race back to my room and throw everything in the near vicinity into a gym bag.
4:35 p.m. Arrive out of breath, 5 minutes late, at the bus. One of the co-captains still isn't here.
4:50 p.m. We start rolling! I guess I probably had enough time to walk.
6:00 p.m. Dinner at Culvers. Always a heavenly experience.
7:42 p.m. For some reason, we're all singing the opening theme to Spongebob. Vans do weird things to you.
9:00 p.m. Hotel! After a long day of doing nothing, we're all ready to get to our rooms and do nothing some more.
11:30 p.m. I get to share a bed with a girl I'm only moderately close friends with. Hope she doesn't mind too much when I inevitably steal the blankets.
3:17 a.m. She minds when I steal the blankets.
6:00 a.m. Ugh. Morning. Made slightly more tolerable by a pancake breakfast.
8:00 a.m. Back on the bus.
8:40 a.m. We start warmups. When I say "warmups," I'm being metaphorical. Early morning Minnesota isn't very warm.
9:25 a.m. My first match begins, and I'm terrified of my opponent, who is significantly shorter than me, and has a platinum-blonde bun on the top of her head. Those are the ones you need to watch out for.
11:35 a.m. ...aaand I lose in an exhausting tiebreaker. This means I'm up for the backdraw, which started 5 minutes ago.
11:45 a.m. My next match starts, after I barely have enough time to finish the turkey and hummus sandwich that Coach so kindly made for me.
12:50 p.m. Tennis matches take less time to lose when you're already exhausted. Naptime!
1:30 p.m. Thus begins the doubles portion. Too bad I don't usually play doubles. Lost that one too.
3:10 p.m. Console myself and my partner with a bagel. That has peanut butter and chocolate pudding on top.
4:45 p.m. Discover the rest of the team did much better than I. More bagels!
6:10 p.m. Finally leave the courts and go eat ribs for the first time ever. Get called a wuss because I can only manage 3.
7:30 p.m. Back at the hotel. Pretend to do homework.
8:30 p.m. Stop pretending to do homework, and watch Freaky Friday instead.
10:45 p.m. I fell asleep/passed out at one point, but can't remember when. After Jamie Lee Curtis embarrassed herself on national television, I think.
1:30 a.m. find myself being spooned. Unacceptable. I HAVE to be the big spoon. Adjust accordingly.
6:00 a.m. Morning... again. No pancake breakfast, only cereal. No tennis matches, no reason to be awake. Angry.
10:00 a.m. Out of boredom, sculpt a wire horse with the co-captain. His name is Chandler. He's actually a pony who has high aspirations of becoming a horse.
11:30 a.m. Are they seriously still playing tennis? Why?
2:00 p.m. Oh. It's because our No. 1 player made it to the quarter-finals.
3:00 p.m. We pull a bit of craft acrobatics, and make signs with such inspirational slogans as “Woo!” and “Let's Go!”
3:55 p.m. I discover that, while my sunburn could be a lot worse, my hat makes it look like I went crazy with the blush. Oops.
4:30 p.m. Our No. 1 finally lost (she played some awesome matches, though) and we get to LEAVE!
6:15 p.m. We begin composing “The Ballad of Chandler, the Wayward Pony.” It shows great potential.
8:00 p.m. Are we there yet?
8:30 p.m. Still not back?
9:15 p.m. Seriously? Bus seats are not nearly as comfortable as they look.
10:30 p.m. Back. Trudge blindly back to my room and pass out.
Ginger's Song of the week: You have to love a band that features the Glockenspiel as much as Los Campesinos does.
Any other college athletes in the audience?
Related post: Why I'm REALLY Joining the Tennis Team