03/30/2026
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"Talking Trash"
by Wayne Coolidge
My oldest granddaughter, Emilia (Emi), who is 12 and going on 18, has a competitive streak in her. She is not the type to talk trash; she is more like a silent assassin who lets her actions do the talking. Don’t be fooled by her cavalier attitude but do be cautious of the twinkle in her eye. Sometimes though, I can’t help myself. When she started taking tennis lessons two years ago, I told her that she would never be able to beat me. She just gave me the evil eye.
Last summer when she came to visit, she brought her racket with her and challenged me to a match. As we hit the court, I reiterated my bold statement. It didn’t seem to phase her at all. During warm-ups I was amazed at how well she hit the ball, especially her two-handed backswing, which was as good as any that I had seen. Surprisingly, I won the first set 6-0. During our brief intermission, I asked my wife Wendy if I should let her win, which was met with a resounding no. I was told to make her earn it. I then won the second set, 6-0. Don’t read too much into the lopsided score, as there were many long volleys and I was lucky to escape as the victor. But there was plenty of foreshadowing. Emi hit many balls that were just a few inches out of bounds or would hit the top of the net and bounce back her way. I remarked to Wendy as we walked back to the parking lot, this will probably be the last time I beat her…
This past January when I visited her in Miami, I reminded her of our last outing, maybe rubbing in the final score a little. Deadpan, she said “let’s play again”. If she didn’t dismiss me by just walking away, I probably would have seen that twinkle.
The next day, we hit the court for our showdown. Warm-ups were very much like before, but I did recognize an improvement in her shot from when we last played 6 months ago. I don’t know if it was her nerves, or my good fortune, but the outcome of the first set was again 6-0. Again, during our refreshment intermission, I asked Wendy in a hushed voice if I should let her win. Like before, the answer was an emphatic NO.
The second set was much more of the same, long volleys but favorable outcomes for me, and I went up 3-0. Then something changed. Instead of me making her run from side to side, she was making me run from side to side, front to back, and her shots were all landing inbounds. She dominated me and won the next three matches. Tied 3-3, we took a break for water. She came straight up to me, and with a stern look on her face and in a demanding voice said, “You better not be letting me win!”. I assured her that was not the case, but I winked. Never let them see you sweat, right? If she only knew the truth. I was giving it everything I had, she was running me ragged, her shots were laser returns, and her accuracy with pinpoint. I just needed to win a couple more rounds and get off the court with my dignity. Mustering up what I had left in the tank, and reinforcing that she would beat me, we resumed playing.
The score was 5-5, my advantage. As our court time was near the end, we agreed this was our last game, winner take all. I had her on the ropes. To continue as the reigning Champion, I just needed one more point. After volleying back and forth about six times, she finally made a mistake. From her back line, she hit a shot that just made it over the net to where I could reach it. I proceeded to return a soft lob just over the net. NO WAY was she going to get there before it bounced twice. I had just enough time to stand up and yell, as smug as I could, “You better hurry up if you are going to get that girlfriend”. I was ready for the confetti cannons to go off and to end this match. What I wasn’t ready for was her getting to the ball and lobbing it over the net to my far right. As I made a diving attempt at the ball I heard her loudly say, “You better hurry up if you are going to get that Old Man”.
I could not get to the ball as it bounced away. As I lay stretched out of the court, sweating, exhausted, and my ego shattered… I had the biggest smile on my face. If you’re going to talk the talk, you better be able to walk the walk, and she did. She proceeded to get the next two points, the victory, and her grandfather’s admiration. As we walked back to the car, I winked at her and told her that I let her win.
I know that in the future, the only way I will be able to win with her on the court, is to be her partner. Doubles anyone?
