Respect at the All-England Club

When I was ten, Wimbledon was the dream. More than any other tennis major, I wanted to play on Center Court at the All-Englad Club. I had only played on one grass court my entire childhood, but still I knew a good thing when I saw it. My tennis idol, Pete Sampras won 7 of his 14 grand slam titles at Wimbledon.  Pete’s 1996 five-set gut-wrencher against Alex Correja at the U.S. Open quarterfinal is my most memorable of his professional matches,but it’s the Sampras clad in all-white that sticks in my mind. There is just something about the grass court championship that seems a little heavenly. It seems a little out of place, in a good way, in this unsettling world. Wimbledon is the most prestigious and oldest tournamant in the sport. Perhaps it is the dress code that evokes images of heaven. Or, it could be the royal purple color that stands next to the deep green.  Usually, there are “royals” in the stands too. Maybe it’s the stadium delicacies that the tournament has become so famous for serving spectators that seems too good to be true. Where else can you go to get a healthy and unique stadium staple, strawberries and cream, than in England? The men who enter the Wimbledon draw are dubbed “gentlemen”. Where else do you see that in sport? Wimbledon is special indeed, and playing there must be invigorating and pristine.

In light of all the recent events that are taking place in the United States and abroad, I think what I love most about this lawn championship is the respect it upholds. The players show respect for the game and for each other when they step out onto the grass. Angelique Kerber lost a two-set women’s championship final yesterday to Serena Williams. Even in her defeat, Kerber sent out a congratulatory tweet to her opponent.  Williams notched an historic 22^nd major with the victory over the fourth seeded German. Serena has dominated women’s tennis for decades, and yet winning at Wimbledon still seems like such a prestigious honor for the veteran player. The tournament commands respect in ways that make me turn my head from the tragedies of our nation to the smaller world of tennis. I used to dream of swinging my Wilson racquet on Center Court, yes. But even more than that, I used to imagine a world where we showed respect for all people, where all lives mattered.

As the Rudyard Kipling quote that sits above the player’s entrance to Center Court reads:
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two imposters just the same..."

Let us treat everyone with the same respect we expect to be given. Let us embrace our sameness more than ever. Let us share in victory—because when all is said and done, we all win if we stick together and remember Him who created us. I hope you enjoy breakfast at Wimbledon on this beautiful July Sunday, where the beloved Brit, Andy Murray takes on first time finalist, Canadian Milos Raonic. Expect greatness. Expect sportsmanship. Expect respect.

Waiting to Begin

“I’ll take a thousand knocks…”

There are some times when waiting is practical, when it makes sense to hold off. I wouldn’t go out and buy a new wardrobe if I was struggling to pay rent. Often, waiting is more than worth the while. Sports fans in the city of Cleveland know this feeling. Chicago Cubs fans must be anticipating an end to their waiting, with the notion of a championship ball club being tossed around the past few years. It sometimes makes sense to wait for direction. You cannot see something through until you are directed how to begin. The waiting may seem like forever but usually results in a more successful outcome. Perhaps you are seeking answers today. Perhaps you are waiting to begin a new job, waiting on test results, waiting to be heard by God.

Today officially kicks off the summer and my favorite season of the year. I could write endlessly about the sights, sounds and tastes of summer but this post is about how summer makes me feel. Six years ago, my tennis partner Melissa and I would schedule play dates throughout the sweltering summer months. She was a school teacher and naturally had summers “off”. I was a full-time worker and part-time student, with few free hours to spare. I was going to graduate school year-round but somehow made time to hit the courts when I could. Melissa and I usually played tennis at the next town over because the courts were well-kept and there were more of them than the local courts offered. I would always arrive before her and wait in my car with the AC blasting and my favorite songs on the stereo. In those moments, I was waiting to begin a new tennis match. During my car waiting times, I also used to pray silently. The moment seemed to call for a spiritual reflection and peace. I often go back to these prayers and recall how I was immersed in God’s presence. All the prayers and dreams I held back then were stored away in God’s ears. It was in my waiting that I most felt Him near. There was without a doubt no question in my mind and heart that our Lord was present. The only thing I can compare it to now is going into labor. I knew I was in labor the moment in began. When you feel God’s presence, there is no doubt. To me, this is what summer embodies. The rising temperatures make me feel more alive. It is in the summer that I feel more at peace with myself. Even today, now that most of my prior prayers have been answered in one way or another, I am always waiting for the summer to begin.

“..and wait while you make up your mind”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZirwbOe3q8

Still Standing

Still Standing

"There's a dead end to my left, there's a burning bush to my right"

As I get older, I find that time stops standing still. When I turned sixteen and my dad taught me how to drive, we used to ride around the high school parking lot as practice for the highway (perhaps not the best way to practice going 65 mph on the NJ Turnpike). We'd pass the tennis courts and I would think to myself how cool it would be to drive myself to and from tennis practice each day in the Fall. It seemed like it took me forever to get my license. I waited 16 years for that document!
My birthday used to be a big event, sometimes even momentous. In 1998, the Yankees' David Wells pitched a perfect game on my birthday. The memory of that game is vivid in my mind as time seemed to stand still for nine innings. Years later, Wells handed me a baseball with his left hand as he exiting the Yankee bullpen. I stood motionless, speechless and stupefied in Monument Park as jealous onlookers stared at the scene. It felt like something out of a movie, only I wasn't able to watch it on screen. On my birthday in 2000, the series finale of my favorite TV show, Beverly Hills, 90210, aired. I savored every minute of the final show. I feel like I had so much time to waste back then. When would I be old enough to experience "real world" situations? (As it turns out, 90210 is nothing like the real world).
What a difference a year makes. What a difference two years makes. Two years ago on my birthday, I was meeting my mother-in-law and father-in-law for the first time. Today, I am raising their first grandbaby. Last year, I was recovering from surgery, laying in bed with a box of cookies and 90210 reruns. My husband and I were newlyweds, a family of two. I waited 30 years to meet the perfect man! Today our world not only centers around each other, but our adorable baby boy.
I spent most of my college birthdays studying and sitting for final exams. The semester would drag on for months only to end abruptly in a challenging 30 question multiple choice test.
I pass by a tennis court each day I go to work. There is never a soul around, never anyone playing on the lonely red court. It's a private neighborhood and seems like a privilege to start a match on their lone court. I wonder how many people have played there. I wonder where those people are today. Does time stand still for them? Does it stand still for anybody my age?
I can't predict what will happen this year. I can anticipate and speculate. I can pray and hope. I know my son will turn one in February and there will be a new face in the White house. I will probably make some new friends and lose touch with some of the old. And by this time next year, I will be ready to say hello to another birth year. The thing about birthdays is, it never matters where you are in life. It's one day out of the entire year to stand still.

"Was that you passing me by?"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qak_RGVERbc

Telling

“Some things you just don’t question”

When I started playing tennis, there were some things I wish somebody would have told me about the game. Coaches told me I would need to stay in shape, eat well and practice hard. Those were easily assumed but it helped to hear them repeated on a regular basis. Friends told me it would be hard work and I would have to sacrifice many other after-school activities in order to join the tennis team. I didn’t mind missing out on social hour and knew the challenge of tennis was what mattered most to me at the time. My parents told me they were continually on my side of the court even though they were tennis novices themselves. They informed me I would need to take lessons and learn from other people. I understood the requirements needed to succeed in a game where my family could only provide basic instruction and moral support. Tennis is a major part of my life and always will be. Growing up with the game has fulfilled many of my inner hopes. Matches have shaped my personality, helped build endurance and unveiled unknown strength. But what nobody told me about tennis when I started playing is that I would be unable to stop wanting more of it.

I recently gave birth to our first born son. Everyone and their mother had advice for me during the nine months I carried the baby. Despite the variety of advice and well-meaning tips from other parents, I was assured this whole mother thing would take its course and I would learn what worked for me. The basics of parenting are, in a way, similar to learning a new sport. You must practice, work hard and stay in good health. You need stamina and strength. Parenting requires patience every day. The ball doesn’t always go over the net, and babies don’t always cooperate as we hope. When I was pregnant, I was told I would forget the morning sickness and the labor pains. They were right; I already do. People told me it would all be worth it—the waiting and carrying a baby for three-fourths of the year. I can say it was well worth the wait. Other parents told me I should expect to be up all night and without sleep. That is very much the truth, I now know. Toward the end of my pregnancy, friends told me I would miss being pregnant. I do miss him rolling and kicking in my stomach. I miss the closeness I once felt to someone I never met, but having my son in my arms is unlike any other experience in my life. The moment I held him for that very first time, I cried along with him. I knew right then nothing was going to stop me from loving this boy. Nobody told me I would be unable to stop wanting more of him—wanting to hold him and care for him. I look at him so often he must think I’m nuts. I can hardly believe this little precious boy is my baby. Nobody told me I would have more stamina and adrenaline than any tennis match I’ve played. The physical act of having a baby is grueling and demanding, but never before that had I felt the power of what my body could endure. Not even on the tennis court has that type of empowerment ensued for me.

There are many comparisons between becoming a parent and the game of tennis. The most obvious ones are the highs and lows and the back and forth exchanges. Parenting is a match in itself, one lengthy score count that will matter substantially in the end. The most notable comparison I’ve found between my favorite game and being a mother is that I don’t want to leave the match. No matter how much I play tennis, I always come back for more. This feeling is only amplified now that I have a son---I want to be with him more and more each day. I will never have enough love for him, and nothing can compare to that feeling.

“I think I dreamed you into life”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DZqFK4dcl2Q

 

Closing the Chapter

Closing the Chapter

“Days are good, and that’s the way it should be”

It seems like only yesterday I was getting ready to usher in the year 2015. My soon-to-be husband and I drove out of his apartment complex on New Years’ Eve in search of a decent restaurant. We hoped our last meal of 2014 would be a good one. We headed to PF Changs first, but the wait was out the door and the parking lot was full. We decided it was best to just stumble upon somewhere to eat, hoping no one else had the same idea.  After driving around for twenty minutes in North Austin, we finally found a restaurant with an open table and no wait at all. The Iron Cactus has always been one of our favorite places to dine and being there seemed a fitting end to a year in which we fell in love and got engaged. The hostess placed us on a round booth against the wall where we could sit right next to each other. The restaurant wasn’t filled, but there were plenty of other diners ushering in the New Year Tex-Mex style.

Last year was our first New Years’ together. I was bound and determined to not only stay up until the ball dropped in Time Square (I am still living on Eastern time after all), but to get a kiss at the stroke of midnight. Staying up did not happen, but I still got my midnight smooch. I remember thinking how wonderful 2015 would be. It would be the year I got married. Little did I know what else was in store.

I played plenty of tennis in 2015, but “plenty” is definitely not enough. On the morning of March 21^st, I woke up around 5:00am after tossing and turning since 1:00am. It was the morning of my wedding and I was dedicated to my daily gym routine. Naturally, I sauntered off to the hotel gym, praying my fiancé wouldn’t see me before the ceremony. I could hardly sit still the entire morning, but any nerves I had prior to the day were vanished. I knew exactly what I wanted and knew I was making the best decision of my life. March definitely went in like a lion and out like a lamb. The end of the month spelled the end of our honeymoon. My husband and I continued to compete against each other on the tennis court, but soon another test happened upon us and our lives would be changed forever.

On June 24^th, I took a pregnancy test. It turned out to be positive. The first thing I did when I found out I was pregnant (after telling my husband), was buy the first book I saw in a Barnes and Noble on my lunch break. Any impulsive tendencies I may have seem to pop up during monumental moments in my life. The first time I won an away tennis match, I wrote the score on the back of my bus pass. I treated myself to a new watch the year Ohio State won the national title in 2003. I wanted something to remember this moment by too, so I did some minor retail therapy. I am more enamored by books than clothes and B&N seemed the best place to go at the time. I still haven't' finished reading the book (Donna Tartt's "The Secret History") in entirety.

I’ve spent the last six months preparing for our first born child (thus, the lack of tennis). I haven’t been this excited to dress someone since I received Teddy Ruxpin as a gift some 27 years ago or so (it’s okay to compare a newborn to a storytelling talking teddy bear, right?) This year has been more remarkable and spectacular than I ever could have imagined. I got married, got pregnant, bought a house and became a certified HR professional. No one warned me that life could be this great. How do you close the chapter on the best year of your life? Well, I am ready to slow down just a little. I have a feeling that won’t be happening in 2016. My son, the little baby who kicks and wiggles in my stomach, will have much to say about that. The best way to close this chapter, for me at least, is to be grateful for the blessings, to humble myself and navigate the new year in much the same way I left 2015: with energy, hopefulness and peace.

“I see colors in a different way; you make what doesn’t matter fade to gray”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8l5nMCJKyYY

The Journey

“Life’s been a journey…and you have been my God through all of it”

It was May 2010. I had just consumed an early birthday lunch with my tennis playing friend and we headed to the local hospital to check in on our former manager. As we drove through the hospital parking lot, for some reason we were discussing babies and pregnancy. My friend, a male, commented how he was so glad he would never have to endure nine months of carrying a baby. I thought for a minute about this and replied, “I think of it as a journey”. He smiled and nodded, agreeing with my positive spin on pregnancy.

Fast forward five and a half years and here I am on this miraculous journey. I keep thinking about how many of the choices and experiences in my life have helped shape me for this journey.  They’ve prepared me for what is to come. In my heart, I’ve always felt I was meant to be a mother. Specifically, I’ve always felt I was meant to raise a son. I have even had dreams about my future son and have prayed that one day I would be blessed with my own family.  I grew up around little children and they were certainly fun to be around, but one particular scene stands out most in my mind. I distinctly remember registering for college and picking up my parking pass on campus in the beautiful Hudson Valley of New York. On the way to campus, I spotted a mother helping her son cross the street near the post office. The two were hand-in-hand next to a stop sign as my car came to a stall. The boy wore a bright yellow jacket and jeans. He looked my way as he crossed in front of my car and I smiled at him. There was something pivotal about that moment for me. I was too young to be thinking seriously about having children, but it spurred a desire in my heart that has not left since.

I quite often think back through the choices that got me to where I am today. My college major choice, for example, propelled me into the business world. I was fascinated by management and leadership styles, and so chose to major in business administration as an undergraduate. In my early semesters of college, I developed a very strong passion for sports management after taking a coaching class freshman year. It was this passion that prompted me to change my specialization from MIS to Sport Management later on. After graduation, my specialization quickly got me several interviews in the field of sport management.  I could have never predicted this career journey I was on would lead me into the medical field. But, I strongly believe that things are meant to happen as they do. My love for tennis and sports will never go away, and back then I didn’t think my future was in healthcare. I soon discovered a new passion---more like a compassion for people. Helping patients and being around a medical office environment opened my eyes to something I was truly good at---serving people. Customer service was definitely something I was accustomed to, but this was different. I enjoyed helping the people I worked with because it reminded me a little of coaching. I loved to teach, train and share my knowledge with others. Pretty soon I was content on working in Human Resources.

My career aspirations have changed several times throughout my life, but I believe all my experiences have taught me something more valuable than work habits and ethic.  I’ve learned how to manage a business and know the fundamentals of negotiating and decision-making. Just maybe these skills will be life skills for me as a new mother. Compassion is something I will need. The ability to instruct and discipline is a skill that as a manager is helpful and as a mother is a requirement. Years ago, I wasn’t prepared for any of this. Along the way, I often wondered if I "got it right", if my choices in life were somehow going to make a difference down the road. It's funny how certain moments can turn your life around.
Today, I still don’t know if my husband and I are fully prepared for everything that lies ahead. I do know this-- that my husband is the best thing that could have happened to me. Of all the circumstances in my life, falling in love with him has been the most special of all. That was a journey in itself. We can't always control our circumstances, but when they turn out for the best, we can't help but smile.  This all gives me hope as new parents-to-be. God's plan for us entails raising a son together.  It will be a wild journey for both of us, but one that will ultimately fulfill a desire I've carried for a long time.

 

“I got it right sometimes but sometimes I did not”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=91KliTa1ksY

 

Good News is on the Way

There’s a memorable line in one of my favorite workout songs, “Float On” by Modest Mouse. Isaac Brock croons, “good news is on the way” following his run-in with a cop car, losing his job and being pickpocketed. He sings, “good news will work its way to all them plans”, even when the bad news lands. I love the beat of this song because it so easily pumps me up when I’m at the gym. I also love it because it’s a reminder of when plans go haywire or you lose your way, there is always good news on the way. It’s like the old sarcastic saying, “It can’t get any worse”.

I’m reminded of growing up a Yankees fan and seeing Mariano Rivera warm-up in the bullpen. No matter what the Yankees’ lead was during the ball game, Rivera was as close to a sure thing as any other reliever to ever play baseball. I can almost hear the New York announcers commentating that “good news is on the way”. Rivera was in the bullpen and would save the game.

As a tennis player, you sometimes lose your way on the court. Your serve slips up, you lose a couple poorly played points or you just can’t get in the rhythm of the game. I’ve known a few players (myself included) who got stronger as the match carried on. I remember watching a bunch of three-set matches in high school and college and thinking to myself, “good news is on the way”. The best is yet to come. I knew the players I was observing were going to find their rhythm, and once they did, the match would be theirs.

As a Human Resources professional and former supervisor, I’ve been fortunate enough to witness the rise of individual employees’ careers. I like to think I’m intuitive and a good reader of people’s skills and personalities. It’s a great feeling to know that an employee’s best is yet to come when they are promoted. You can sometimes tell who is going to stand out from the crowd and excel in their position. When employees who are overlooked for promotions get frustrated, I certainly want to tell them “good news is on the way”. Soon enough, they will be given an opportunity to advance. Sometimes you have to go through a dry spell before your flourish.

A year ago this August, I was having a bad day. I can’t recall the exact situation, but I know it brought me to tears. The fact that I can’t recall the situation is proof enough that good news comes even when the bad news lands. In retrospect, things are never as bad as they seems, right? My boyfriend at the time, who is now my husband, was the one to comfort me. He pointed to my left ring finger and simply said, “think about what’s coming”. At this point in our relationship, we both knew an engagement was in the cards. It was just a matter of getting the perfect ring and him surprising me in the perfect way. When he reminded me that “good news is on the way”, it definitely helped me perk up and get past my troubles. He continues to be the more optimistic one in our marriage during tough times.

Shifting gears slightly, I was more than saddened to hear about another college campus shooting this past week. Every time this happens, I fail to make sense of how hatred can overpower someone and motivate them to act in such a horrendous way. As a Christian, I know that “good news is on the way”. No matter what happens in this life, Jesus IS the good news. He will bring good news beyond what anyone can imagine.

Wherever you find yourself in life, you can live knowing that good news will follow.