10-18-2013, 11:15 AM
Hall Of Fame
Join Date: Apr 2013
Location: Tennis Court
Originally Posted by TimeSpiral
Good question. I don't know, however; I do have an anecdote.
I don't love matches that have to be played after work. There is just something about jump starting my desk-job-ridden body after a hard day in the chair ... I detest my opponent even more. But, it's the second round of the playoffs and I've no choice but to try my best and deal with this guy.
We've played several times. The first time I thought, "so he's a little eccentric, no biggie." The match goes on, the cursing begins, then the yelling, then the racquet throwing. "Ah, well, this guy takes this really seriously. Good for him, but it is rather rude to the other people playing." But then it was a combination of everything that started to grate on me: horrible line calls, always in his favor; extremely long lag in between points and changeovers; and of course, he was one of the first hardcore pushers I'd ever encountered in league play. Top it off with: He beat me twice in our previous two meetings.
It's mid morning, I'm heavily amped up on the Joe and decide I want to stay limber, so I bust out the foam roller. Oh yeah. This feels great! I'm going to crack my neck.
The sound it made, my neck cracking, was like someone with bear hands wringing a bunch of celery. That can't be good. I stand up and the muscles in my neck turn to iron rods--stiff. Super stiff. In a panic, I try and address the issue: massage, research, icey hot, and I send a preemptive message to my opponent.
IS THERE ANY OTHER TIME WE CAN PLAY? I INJURED MYSELF AT WORK THIS MORNING. SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE. Was I surprised when he declined my request and said we had to play or he would default me? No. I wasn't. He has more default wins than anyone in the league. Go figure, right?
I pop some anti-inflammatory pills and work up a serious rage. Now I want blood. I concoct an "all-in" gameplan to win.
I found the W in what was surely a thorough azz-romping. He even called me out, suggesting I was playing possum. I politely told him to go eff himself, in not so many words.
It was a low level win, sure, but in a tournament I went on to win, so it's a story I will probably always remember. The moral? I've never laid my back on that roller again! Ha.
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