Dubious Quality

While Eli was in Grand Rapids, we'd played tennis several times. He's been playing 2+ hours every day this summer, after he was fortunate enough to find a friend who played tennis at a similar level. As a result, he's playing far better than he ever did.

I hadn't played in two years. Didn't even bother trying to get ready. I figured it was going to be ugly.

Surprisingly, though, it wasn't. I was still able to hit with him. I just had to have match-level focus instead of goofing off. I was happy I didn't embarrass myself, at least.

In Austin, my sister found out we played tennis and asked if he'd blown me off the court. Eli said, "Dad is like an old computer covered in dust, and when you turn it on, you never expect it to work, but it boots up and runs all the programs it used to, even though a little slower than when it was new. So he hadn't played in two years and hit like he'd been playing last week."

Which is true. Muscle memory is a good friend to have.