What can a partially sighted person get from “watching” a live tennis match? I am a tennis fan and also a partially sighted person so the question is one that I have often pondered. Lyle and I are both tennis enthusiasts. We follow most of the big major tournaments and we are familiar with the names of the top players. At one time we looked into purchasing tickets for one of the big tournaments, but the price of the tickets was quite high and we weren’t sure just what I would see and get out of it all.
Well, as of this past weekend, I am now a
little wiser. Our friend, Dave is also a tennis fan and he discovered a small
tournament not too far from where we are staying. So, we packed our little
cooler with some drinks and treats and set off to watch the men’s
semi-finals. It was great.
Lyle and I arrived early enough to secure a
seat near the base line. We were in time for the US National Anthem, and to see
the flurry of red and blue as the ball boys and linesmen took their places.
From where we sat, I was able to see the closer server, although not the net or
the opposing player. It was enough. I often follow a match on TV by simply
listening. The gasps and intake of breath from the crowd frequently signal
whether the shot has gone in or gone wide. I also listen to the sound of the
ball on the racquet and can usually tell if the return has been good and clean.
When I interviewed Judy, a partially
sighted golfer in Regina, I remember that she also remarked on this phenomenon.
She said that when she heard the thunk of her club as it hit the golf ball off
the tee, she could nearly always tell whether or not it was going to be a good
shot or whether the ball was just going to drift off into the bushes.
So, what did I get from watching the live
tennis match? First there was the atmosphere. Many of the spectators knew each
other and I would venture that one hundred percent of them were tennis fans who
were knowledgeable about the game. The pregame chatter was exciting and I was
there in the midst of it. I could hear the thud of the balls on the players’
racquets, their cries of either jubilation or disappointment, the squeak of
their shoes on the court. I could feel the breeze in my face, the sun on my
shoulders and the firm seat of the bleachers.
Then to top it off, after the semi-final match, Lyle treated me to a
delicious sloppy joe burger. Really, it couldn’t get much better than that.
I realize that up to this point, I could
have written the last few posts on this blog from nearly anywhere, so to show
you that we really are in Hawaii, I am going to add a photo that Lyle took from
our balcony. For the past few mornings he has been out there watching some whales
frolic around in the bay, but this picture is of a great sunset with a couple
of palm trees in the foreground. It has been a great holiday for sure!
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