Tuesday, April 1, 2008

On the Origins of Victory

When Jon and I are having an amazingly good tennis rally:

He serves it at 300 mph directly at my head.

Somehow I manage to get the ball over the net by shielding myself with my racket.

He lobs it back over, as though to say: Oh sorry I thought you could handle that.

I smack the shit out of the ball because fuck you.

He hits it really hard and way in the other corner, thinking he's sweet.

I hit it back better. faster.

He runs towards the net just after he hits a miraculous spin making me sprint forward

I win the battle of wits by hitting it over his shoulder in the back corner.

I yell "YOU SHALL NOT PASSSSSS!" a la Gandolf and hold my racket triumphantly over my head.

He says "Ok, I'm going to really start hitting it now"