Obviously, SOMEBODY out there is responsible for getting us our first fix. For me? My Dad. I can still remember being dragged to the Tri-Village bubble/tent for lessons in fourth grade, with my trusty, 13 oz, steel/aluminum 85 square inch Wilson Cobra. With a racket like that, no wonder I disliked the game at first. I remember choking way up on the handle as a kid cause I couldn't get it around. I hit with it just recently while visiting my folks and it might STILL be more racket than I can handle. Eventually, Dad was nice enough to let me steal his lighter, flexy composite Wilson P200 oversize. Think PS6.0 only grey and without all that nasty kevlar. Still hits like a dream, but it's got a stress fracture inside the throat, so it's being transitioned to sentimental duty. Anyway, big ups to pop for turning me onto the sport. And you? Who do you have to thank?