Court 1 Anonymous

There is a friendly but serious white bench on court 1 that critically watches me from the sidelines, yet still allows me to rest upon it. The net stands at attention unlike the other courts’ droopy ones, and the court itself is bright blue with crisp white lines that always try to grab at any ball hit by me. A panel of fence protrudes between court 1 and 2 to stop balls from rolling from court to court, and it’s definitely a safety hazard. But I don’t mind because I love court 1.

I have stayed here with Hugh and hit hundreds of balls, waiting for him to say, “That’s the one I’m lookin’ for,” in his heavy Jamaican accent. I have run "suicides" while Coach Welsh blew his strident whistle, threatening that he would make us do them again if every sneaker did not touch the new white line on time. I beat Jared on this court and lost to Greg on it. I have yelled “C’mon!” after winning dramatic points so many times that when I am silent, the bench knows that something is awry and calls me over to sit.

The court has become part of me, and its familiarity is what draws me to it. When I play on court 2, it’s just not the same, and everything feels so wrong. Court 1 has been there during the good and bad matches; it has absorbed...