My pursed lips conveyed thoughtfulness at how to proceed in answering the question without being too specific or elaborate.  Maybe I would finally make use of the information gathered from exposure to her profession and sport as I’d watched multiple matches. 

The learned rules, general play and player conditions would come to my aid.

“Well Dana let me put it in tennis terms – admittedly, my serve and groundstrokes needed work.  They continue to require tweaking in fact.  Of course I’d benefit from practicing by myself on the court to develop the strokes, you know, make myself better.” 

Searching her eyes and receiving confirmation of understanding that I was alluding to my personal failures with Tina and our relationship, I continued. 

“Now it would be incredibly uninteresting to watch and more importantly, to my point, I would get only so much better with just myself out there, on the court…alone.  Someone has to be willing to return my shots so I can get better and strengthen areas where I’m lacking.  I wanted the match to start, or better put, wanted a re-match but I can’t force the other player to pick up the racket and play.”

“How much can you practice by yourself before you want someone to be on the other end of the court?  Before you give up and take up another sport?  Besides, I don’t want to lose again because there’s too much at stake.”

In my head, I thought, ‘She doesn’t deserve even a hint of hurt, not after what I’ve put her through, not where she is now’ then continued. 
“Or maybe there’s no tweaking left to be done.”

Reaching over, I put my hand over hers trying to make her understand, “My tournament’s over Dana.  What can I say?  Regrettably, I had a career ending self-inflicted injury without a coach or therapist on hand to help me through – not that I’d deserved one at that.” 

“The post-injury reality, much like you’re experiencing now, dictates being out of commission.  However, the calendar rolls forward and others play on.  After all, there are various tournaments, different match-ups and other winners.”

To this she put her other hand on mine and said, “Well ok, but what if there’s just a rain delay?  Shouldn’t you stay on the court?”

Her sincere look letting me know she absorbed the analogy as she nodded her head in understanding.  “If anything more extreme, you know it’s not uncommon to attempt and strive for a comeback.  It’s been done.  Believe me.  How will you ever know if you could win again if you don’t give it a go?”

A humorless laugh escaped me given Dana’s comment.  I think it was a little late for a comeback and exceptional talent was required to pull that off. 

I didn’t know if I had it in me.  Besides, in her sport, at my age I’d be retired.  What else could I say?  Not without help? You’re right, I will? 

Instead of voicing those thoughts, my reticence emerged over my usually dominant poise, a victim to the uncertainly surrounding me of late.

“I don’t know Dana.  You can’t relate yet but for a more mature me,” smiling teasingly yet unable to mask the sadness in my reflection, “retirement beckons as I can’t seem take the constant pounding and match pressure anymore.”

A hopeful note echoed in her thought as she ventured further, “You could try.”

Rubbing her good arm affectionately in appreciation of her sentiments I responded softly, without passion,  “I just don’t know Dana.”

—

Friday night recall TBC.