Imani B. Apologizes for Her Own Winners, Sprinklers Apologize for Nothing

Cedar Hollow Park — My late husband Harold used to apologize to the vacuum cleaner whenever he bumped it into the sofa, so I felt right at home at Sunday Open Play. Ngozi A. and Hiro M. won the only game, 11–⁠4, over Imani B. and Bodhi S. at Cedar Hollow Park, and I couldn’t be prouder of all four of them. I am especially proud of the ones who lost, maybe even a little extra, because they need it more.

Imani B. said sorry after every single shot, including the ones that won points, which I thought was very gracious toward the ball. By my count she apologized more times than her team scored. Admittedly that is not hard when the team scored four, but it was still a lovely display of manners, and manners are what really count. That’s what I keep telling her.

Bodhi S. arrived in neon sleeves on both knees and a brace on one ankle ‘for vibes.’ I asked if he’d hurt himself and he said no, it was a look. Well, the look was very bright. You could spot him from the parking lot, and somehow the ball always seemed to know exactly where he wasn’t.

Meanwhile Hiro M. handed out homemade banana bread between points, the first time anyone has put actual food anywhere near the kitchen, and I’ve been asking for three seasons. I’m told it wasn’t a strategy, but it is very hard to hit a firm return with your mouth full of walnuts. Ngozi A. politely skipped the snacks and kept winning points. I’m still not sure who was serving, but it was mostly her side doing the scoring.

Then the park sprinklers came on and the match ended right there at one game. Imani apologized to the sprinklers. Bodhi’s knee sleeves held up beautifully in the wet, so at least the vibes were protected.

Next Sunday I’m bringing my zucchini bread so Hiro doesn’t have to carry the whole snack program himself. Imani and Bodhi, four points is four more than zero, and I’ve put the scoresheet on my refrigerator right next to the grandchildren’s drawings. No apologies necessary, dear.

So proud of you all. There’s pie in the car.