I saw no birds at the park or outside my home. I thought I saw a swift hummingbird at Church. But I am in such grief that they are not around here over this weekend. Where did they go?
Usually, Mr. and Mrs. Bluejay come to the courts to emphasize to me the importance of putting my entire effort into my tennis in the eyes of my children that they would learn to develop their wingspans.
Woefully limp wing muscles on your youngest fledgling, they point out. You have to show them how to develop this muscle, or they never will fly. I know. I confess to Mr. Bluejay, but he wasn't there to tell me that.
Instead, It was the butterflies that came to coach me. They said it is the cooling down time. Why so hard? Why do you hit it so hard? Try to find a light touch serve. They implored. I must confess that I absolutely have never tried to hit a soft serve in my life. I may have hit it soft by accident. But the butterflies said try to find out how softly you can hit the ball and still get the ball across the net. I tried and it was like being in slow motion. I did 10 and then when I went back to my hard ball I had such a greater accuracy. I was appreciative of their inserting their 2 cents.
Butterfly serves would be my practice in regularity and then work up to the hard balls. I love to slam the ball and I go to the courts to get out some of my anger on the ball. But there was some merit in finding the lighter alternative.
There were also some lessons about directing my limpwinged and highly tech minded young one. It is not the same game with him. He is used to light touches and a heavy hand could crush his spirit. Lighten up and keep your racquet on the ball for a longer period of time. Go back to the time of 18 and unders and become a "pusher" again. That is really hard!
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