Soccer Tennis

Chase and I play soccer tennis all the time. This tradition is dated back to the very first visit that Chase made to Indiana (Muncie, no less) to see me. However, I've been playing with my siblings for years up at Torch Lake, where there is a tennis court in the condo complex where we vacation. Back when Chase and I first started playing, I was still in my last season of soccer at Ball State. For some reason that I still to this day cannot figure out, Chase used to occasionally beat me...I mean like every third game...ok well maybe sometimes more than that. Yes, I know, how horrible...the collegiate golfer somehow beats the collegiate soccer player at a variation of her own game. Maybe it's because I was too nervous around my new boyfriend to go all out and kick his butt? Doesn't sound like me. Let's just say I was tired after practice and that's why he often beat me in soccer tennis...................................

By the way, soccer tennis is played on a tennis court with mostly tennis rules, but instead of using a tennis ball and racket, a soccer ball is used (with feet, of course!) I guess the scoring is more like volleyball though...we play up to 11, have to win by 2.

However since we have moved to AZ, we have been able to play often. And I am keeping score of who wins every game. I often remind Chase of these accurate statistics.

Rachael: 25 games
Chase: 2 games




In our most recent game a couple nights ago, it started off very competitive, as always. I had achieved victory already in the two games prior and we were starting a third. A couple points into the game Chase hit this great cross court shot that sent me sprinting to the left side to dish it back. Cross court shots are no doubt Chase's greatest strength in the game. As I approached the ball, it was a little high and on it's way out of bounds, so I knew I had to get my left foot around to sent it back. I hit it hard with the inside of my foot and whipped it just over the net and right down the sideline. An impossible shot for Chase to return. Except I never saw it, because the next thing I know, I was flat on my back looking at the stars. Apparently the momentum of my left leg carried my right leg out from underneath me as well and I landed FLAT on my back. No boo-tay action here to break the fall. Then there was the foreign tennis coach on the next court that gasped and asked the dreaded "Are you OK?" that drew attention to me on the ground. I've always been really embarrassed when injuries happen to me in sports, especially in such a ridiculous manner. So despite my spine being fractured (jk) I got up and pretended like nothing happened, you know...played it cool, meanwhile motioning to Chase (who was sprinting over to see if I was ok) to go back where he came from and continue the game.

Didn't happen.

He made me go home.

And I was SOOO thankful because that sucker HURT. I am also thankful for a sweet husband who felt so bad that he kept telling me what an awesome shot it was (like I cared at that point...ok, actually I did, I like to win.)

Chase also tried to tell me it looked like I was doing some sort of sweet move, like a bicycle (he even went as far as to "recreate" the move using our king sized bed as his landing pad.) But I know better...it looked ridiculous.