I’m the worst tennis player in the world. It may seem that I’m exaggerating the truth for impact. But as far as I know, nobody plays tennis worse than me. Nobody.
The worst part is that my family can’t relate, because they excel physically. For parents, I have a fitness trainer and a semi-professional skier, both rock climbers. They've run marathons, won hockey tournaments, swam with sharks, and performed various other athletic feats. My younger brother’s followed suit, successfully playing every sport he's tried. I’m left as the un-athletic black sheep.
Of course, that’s not for lack of trying. I’ve had years of lessons from different instructors, but none could combat my natural inability. Due to my stunning lack of prowess, I have garnered considerable awe despite my understanding of the …show more content…
I’d rarely hear it. Standing bewildered, I’d look for where the ball could’ve gone. Inevitably, my opponent would chuckle, susceptible to the comedic moment. Soon, I’d notice and retrieve the ball, preparing an overhand serve, overestimating my ability to redeem myself. I'd hit it (often after several tries), and it'd soar far above me, failing to advance, instead hitting my head in the plunge.
Unceasingly, invariably, these laughable mishaps would occur. I'd spend hours contemplating my misfortune, the odds that I'd be born into a family so unlike me. Although we’re similar in several aspects: appearance, temperament, thought, I fell short on this quite notable trait.
What I failed to grasp then was that this vast shortcoming was offset by another, beneficial difference. Unlike my family, I have an ability to write artfully. My mother has always been a visual artist and although I may not have her graceful hand, I have a graceful mind. I’d never beat them in a battle of fitness, but I would in one of
The worst part is that my family can’t relate, because they excel physically. For parents, I have a fitness trainer and a semi-professional skier, both rock climbers. They've run marathons, won hockey tournaments, swam with sharks, and performed various other athletic feats. My younger brother’s followed suit, successfully playing every sport he's tried. I’m left as the un-athletic black sheep.
Of course, that’s not for lack of trying. I’ve had years of lessons from different instructors, but none could combat my natural inability. Due to my stunning lack of prowess, I have garnered considerable awe despite my understanding of the …show more content…
I’d rarely hear it. Standing bewildered, I’d look for where the ball could’ve gone. Inevitably, my opponent would chuckle, susceptible to the comedic moment. Soon, I’d notice and retrieve the ball, preparing an overhand serve, overestimating my ability to redeem myself. I'd hit it (often after several tries), and it'd soar far above me, failing to advance, instead hitting my head in the plunge.
Unceasingly, invariably, these laughable mishaps would occur. I'd spend hours contemplating my misfortune, the odds that I'd be born into a family so unlike me. Although we’re similar in several aspects: appearance, temperament, thought, I fell short on this quite notable trait.
What I failed to grasp then was that this vast shortcoming was offset by another, beneficial difference. Unlike my family, I have an ability to write artfully. My mother has always been a visual artist and although I may not have her graceful hand, I have a graceful mind. I’d never beat them in a battle of fitness, but I would in one of