Sepia Saturday: Tennis anyone?

Sepia Saturday challenges bloggers to share family history through old photographs.

This week’s Sepia Saturday prompt shows Dinah Shore and Burt Bacharach playing tennis. This is an especially fitting theme since Wimbledon, the oldest and most prestigious tennis tournament in the world, is underway. 

In the late 1970s and early 1980s, my family used to have Breakfast at Wimbledon. We didn’t always have strawberries and cream as is the tradition at REAL Wimbledon, but we’d make a party of it and gather around the television to watch the games. Of course, we had to cheer for Jimmy Connors, John McEnroe, Billie Jean King, and little Chris Evert.  The most enthusiastic cheerleader was always my dad.

Daddy was an avid tennis player and very GOOD at it. He played every Sunday morning no matter what.  Sometimes he played with men his own age but more often than not he was giving the boys on the tennis team at my high school a real workout. 

Cradock High School Tennis Team 1968
scanned from the yearbook

All of them knew my dad. Most of them played with him and against him in a Sunday morning pick-up game at some point in their high school tennis career. 

Daddy liked to play back. Sometimes it looked like he was standing still making everyone else run to answer a lob in the corner or scramble to fight a wicked backhand shot in the face. And undoubtedly the boys were confronted with his sarcasm and trash talk. Unfortunately, that did nothing for my social life. (And there were some cute guys on that team!)

from Google Images

When Daddy’s matches were done for the day, he stopped by the 7-11 and brought Slurpees home for my sister and me.  When they first came on the market in the mid 1960s, we couldn’t get enough of that sweet cherry goodness.  

One time Daddy had to stop by the grocery store on the way home.  When he arrived with all the items on the list, Momma noticed he wasn’t wearing his favorite floppy tennis hat.  “Where’s your hat?” 

“JESUS!” he exclaimed.  (He was very religious.)  “I must’ve lost it in the store.”

So Daddy retraced his steps and, sure enough, there was his tennis hat lying in the frozen food case. In the days before the stand-up freezers, you had to bend over to reach that box of peas. Apparently the hat slipped right off without his noticing.    

Not THE hat of the frozen food story -
probably a new and improved version
given as part of a Christmas gift

I don’t know if Daddy’s head was just too big for the hat or if the hat had shrunk in the wash. But it’s a good chance the hat shrank. Daddy always washed his own tennis clothes. He’d throw just about anything together and call it a load. Even red wrist bands. In with tennis whites. In no time Daddy had a full supply of pink shorts and pink v-neck shirts for his Sunday match. And he wore ‘em too. (Maybe that’s why the boys on the tennis team took no interest in me. Yeah, that had to be it.)

You’d think Daddy would have appreciated receiving a nice pair of Rod Laver tennis shorts or a simple Wilson shirt for his birthday or Father’s Day. No. He never wanted to look too good. And he didn't. But a fresh can of yellow Penn or Dunlop tennis balls was always greeted with a big smile.  Then open the can. PSSSHHHHH.  Now sniff.

Daddy continued to play well into his 70s. 

Norm Kozak, Griff Edwards, and
Daddy (Fred Slade).  Jerry Shackleford probably took the picture.

Go to Sepia Saturday to see what everyone else is serving up.  Be careful not to step on the white line.

©2014, Wendy Mathias.  All rights reserved.