Two nice courts in the cool mountain air tucked back behind City Hall. One of them was being used for pickleball when I visited. I have to say, that seems fair. Not perfect, but fair.
222 Sierra Madre Blvd, Sierra Madre, CA 91024
From my journal
September 20, 2023
The Memorial Park courts are beautifully set against the low looming mountains. Pickleballers were smacking away on one court while a guy in full sun-begone headgear was sweeping water off the other.
“I’m not even gonna be a minute,” I preempted his protest, and proceeded to perform my emergency minimum of playing, which is to swat a ball way up and catch it. This really is a tiny amount of fun, like being a kid pretending to be an outfielder making a routine but still exciting catch, exciting because the ball went up so high.
“Are you by yourself?” the sun-guarded guy asked me.
“Yup,” I said unguardedly.
“We can hit if you want until my first student shows up.”
This was very kindness of strangers-y. We did hit back and forth, straight and sustained. He gave me his name, Jim, he said, “as in Jim Dandy.”
I didn’t know people still said Jim Dandy and was glad to find they do. We talked at the net about my quest. “It’s like your hobby,” he summarized.
He further theorized that the public transit part is a good retirement strategy because it gives purpose to four or more hours of what can otherwise feel like what-do-I-do-now.
He said he wondered what he will do when he retires or gets injured so he can’t teach for ten hours a day. I did not pretend to know.
Then he said do you want to play some games. He immediately commenced pinpointing balls out of my reach, not hitting hard, just accurate.
“How do you do that?” I wanted to ask him, hoping there might be a surprisingly simple and easy answer, but then his first student showed up so we bid a fond farewell.