**As the Spring WITS season is starting soon, and in the spirit of being completely honest with our readers, I thought I’d share the Tennis Husband’s perspective on the end of my team’s last season. I would like to think I have not turned into a tennis monster, but I’m embarrassed to admit that much of what he says, while slightly exaggerated is, in fact, accurate.**
The Tennis Monster That Ate My Wife
Several years ago, I approached my beautiful and caring wife and floated the idea of moving our family to Singapore. A year later, our three boys were enrolled in the Singapore American School and we were enjoying our first expat adventure.
In an attempt to integrate into our new experience, my wife decided to take up tennis with the reasonable thought process that she would meet other ladies and get some exercise at the same time. I thought it was a great idea. Little did I know that by agreeing to that decision, I would lose my beautiful caring wife to the Tennis Monster that seems to have eaten her.
In the last few years, she has gone from a tennis novice to a team captain, to the captain of two teams, serving on committees and playing tennis 4-5 times per week. I’ve had to learn a whole new language of LTS and WITS, and heaven forbid I get something wrong. I have to listen (and be interested in) the stories of the games and the team issues.
Our vacations include stops at tennis stores, and our children have to receive and hold packages from the Tennis Warehouse. Every month we discuss the tennis budget for private lessons, shared private lessons, teams and equipment.
If one of the Grand Slams is on TV, we change our sleep schedule, and we’re suddenly allowed to have the TV on during dinner time. We’ve started to talk about the Australian Open or the US Open as possible vacation ideas for the future! Tennis has taken over our life!
I’ve been able to do all of that as I am a strong believer in the Happy Wife Happy Life philosophy. However, now we’re at the end of the season and in the hunt for first place. I’ve lost my wife.
Meals are now periods of texting and strategy sessions about line-ups and arguments about how to calculate scores. Chance meetings in the hallway of the club become 30-minute discussions about which teams have horrible calls, and who should play with who in the next match.
My lovely wife has become a competitive monster! We go to the club and the waiters are telling me about the calculations and meetings that are happening.
I asked what her team gets for coming in 1st. They’re spending so much time and energy discussing and working on this that there must be some serious money involved. A huge trophy at the least. Recognition on a national level seems like a small reward for the amount of effort involved. So you can imagine my shock when I got the answer.
“We get a Bag Tag!”