ALTA team survives!

MARIETTA - ALTA Saturday: morning alarm clock, frantic search for directions to away match, rummaging through closet to get proper accessories. Do I have my towel? Is it clean? Rackets, check. Balls, oops. Forgot to buy some. Socks. Dirty but wearable. Hat. Check. Grip tape. Check.
My A-2 team is on the road today - off to Post Woods - wherever that is. We're in third or fourth or fifth place - can't remember which, so today is the day we're allegedly supposed to make up some ground. On somebody. Playing out of somewhere.
There is a God. I find the place, with time to spare.
Let me back up a brief moment to give you a word about me and tennis.
See, it used to matter. Winning was SO important. Had to get a ranking, had to get seeded, had to help the team win the collegiate match, had to try and win the entry fee back. There was always a "had to" associated with it; it was never loose, carefree, innocent.
Now, it's an ALTA match for crying out loud. If I lose, nobody cares but me. And my pretty little Puerto Rican doubles partner. And maybe our fearless captain, who, by the way, is sitting courtside, cell phone in hand as if calling in the scores.
So here I am, all in my whites and on time and without my can of balls. Hopefully, the tennis Gods won't punish me for this infraction. Or maybe we can win and we won't need a new can.
Maybe.
Brad and Hadley win at No. 1. Steve and Katie lose at No. 2. Diane and Woody rally for a 6-4 in the third win. But Chris and Margaret lose at No. 4.
Putting the "pressure" on myself and Mariel.
With my blood-alcohol level dropping from my night before, I see the ball clearly and my partner takes care of the rest. We win 6-1, 6-2. The team wins 3-2.
Happy, happy, joy, joy.
We're off to Jocks n' Jills for a post-match celebration.
This week's agenda: practice on Thursday, Peachtree Road Race on Friday, another ALTA match on Saturday if I can peel my face off the sheets.
Stay tuned...