Owen paused with the ball cemented to the center of his paddle and fixed his eyes on me. “I appreciate you saying that. After our last lesson, I had a coaching hangover, like I’d pushed you too hard.”
“Listen, I put my art out into the world, and people donothold back in their reviews. I’m resilient and open to feedback,” I replied.
He bounced the ball up and snatched it out of the air. “Good to hear.”
“Speaking of my art...”
I was both eager and not to get his thoughts onRogue Cowboy.
“Nope, let’s wait till the end. We’ll get derailed and we have too much to accomplish today.” He pointed to the opposite side of the court. “Get into ready position over there.”
I nodded and jogged over without doing any of the exaggerated bouncy stuff I normally did.
“Right up here.” Owen pointed to the white line along the strangely named “kitchen” portion of the court that bordered the net on either side.
I moved closer to it.
“Knees,” he reminded me, all business.
The words “on your” flitted through my mind, and I wondered if Owen was bossy in all aspects of his life.
I dutifully bent my knees so I could be quicker to react and released the tension in my grip before he could correct that as well.
“Dinking is all about control and finesse. Strategy too, but we’ll get to that later,” Owen explained. “Remember how we focused on that push at our first lesson? We’re back at it today. I also want you to think about your wrist. No floppy stuff.” He demonstrated by doing figure eights in the air with his paddle. “You’ll send the ball everywhere but where it needs to go if your wrist isn’t solid.”
I nodded and tried not to hypergrip my paddle.
“I want you to swing from your shoulder, not flick your wrist.” He elegantly mimed the move, making it look simple enough for me to do as well. “Light taps so the ball clears the net and bounces low. Make sense?”
It did in theory but I wasn’t sure how my body would translate it all. “Yup!”
“Aim for a compact swing, just like we were practicing at our first lesson. Like this.”
Owen dropped a ball and lobbed it over the net with an easy little shot. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to return it or not, so I watched it bounce right next to me.
“Let’s go.”
I nodded and moved into ready position, trying to ignore the nerves buzzing inside of me.
Owen straightened up, frowning at me. “Hey, we’re having fun, remember?”
“What do you mean?”
“You looksotense,” he said gently as he took a few steps closer to the net. “It’s okay, Brooke. We had a breakthrough last time; now you’ve got your head on right and you’re going to be great.”
I nodded and shook my hands off to try to drain some of the tension. “I’m feeling the pressure.”
“Don’t overthink. Just dink.”
“The terminology isreallygoofy—you have to admit it.” I laughed.
He narrowed his eyes and pointed his paddle at me, trying to hide a smile. “Don’t blaspheme my sport, got it?”
I saluted him. “Yes, Coach!”
We both dropped into position at the same time, Owen dinked, and the next thing I knew my paddle connected with the ball and sent it right back to him.
“Yay,” I cheered.
