This is for you. The other day I was sitting at the tennis courts where my kids were attending a group clinic. I was sitting in the chairs that border the courts. You know, seating for human beings. There were two other mothers there. We were – like – just
Seriously. I will not shut the fuck up about tennis (our chosen sport). That is the principal clue that I’m becoming one of those annoying sports parents. Tonight I was posting a photo to my Instagram page. After I checked in at the tennis courts on Facebook, of course. After
… well then you should consider reading my dad’s new blog. He writes about all kinds of balls, actually. Not the kind I’ve implied here, though – the less horrifying ones. Baseballs. Footballs. Basketballs. Tennis balls. You get my drift. If any of you faithful blog followers have read my
My favorite time of the year has officially begun: basketball season. Having grown up with my father – a sports writer – I generally dislike most sports. It isn’t that I have a misunderstanding of sports, or that I prefer girly things to the sweaty, meaty masculinity of it all.