on the clubhouse wall. “I have lots of time. We can watch Ginny for a while yet.”
“You need to warm up,” his dad insisted.
“In this weather?” Steve started to laugh, but the laughter died in his throat when he saw his father’s expression.
Mr. Greeley stood up. “I know you, Champ. Youneed a lot of time to get your head into the game. Don’t worry about Ginny; she’s got this match all sewn up and she doesn’t
need us to sit here rooting for her. She’ll understand that you have your own worries to deal with. Let’s go.”
Steve knew that there was no point in trying to change his dad’s mind once it was set. He sighed and followed his father as
they edged their way to the aisle.
On the court, Ginny looked up and caught her brother’s eye. She frowned. Steve shrugged and pointed to their father.
Ginny smiled, letting Steve know she knew why they were leaving. Steve gave her a thumbs-up sign.
As they headed toward the clubhouse, Steve heard the solid
thwack
of Ginny’s serve and applause from the crowd. The umpire said, “Thirty—love.”
Her match would be over in seconds. They could easily have stayed to see her win. It didn’t seem fair to Steve. But that’s
the way it was.
You just didn’t argue with Ted Greeley when it came to tennis.
2
W hen Steve and his dad entered the club locker room, there were only a couple of men at one end. Charlie Silver, Steve noted,
was nowhere in sight yet. Apparently,
Charlie
didn’t need that much time to “get his head into the game.” But Steve kept his thoughts to himself. He wondered again what
his dad’s surprise might be and went to get a drink of water from the fountain at the end of the room.
“Don’t drink too much,” cautioned Mr. Greeley. “You don’t want to get bloated.”
Steve, who had known that without being told, straightened up and smiled at his father. “I sure don’t,” he said.
Mr. Greeley sat on a bench and stared hard atSteve. “You remember your other matches against Charlie?” he asked. “What were his weaknesses?”
Steve, who had been through this kind of grilling before, was careful not to show his impatience. And who knew, maybe it
was
helpful.
“He rushes the net too much, so I can win a lot of points with passing shots. If he gets behind quickly, he can get discouraged
and lose his concentration. When his first serve is a fault, his second serve can be real weak. And he wears dorky clothes.”
His dad had been smiling, but he looked annoyed at Steve’s last statement. “How about trying to be serious? All right?”
“Sorry,” Steve mumbled.
His dad nodded. “Okay. What are his strengths?”
“Strong first serve, killer backhand, real tough at the net. If I don’t hit a passing shot while he’s coming in, I have to
try to back him off with high lobs or he’ll kill me.”
Mr. Greeley smiled again. “Good.” He looked around. “Where is Charlie, anyway?”
Steve shrugged and picked up a racket. Charlie, he thought with a touch of envy, knew better than toshow up any earlier than necessary on a day like this. They weren’t due on the court for half an hour, and it wasn’t going
to help his game at all to sit around like this, whatever his dad thought.
Mr. Greeley moved over next to his son and sighed. “I envy you, Steve. You know why?”
Steve knew exactly what was coming, but also knew better than to say so.
“I envy you because you’ve got a chance. A real chance. The thing that really gets me,” his dad went on, as he had done a
hundred times before, “is that I’ll
never know
. Maybe I would have been a major star, and maybe not.
“But I would rather have been a complete flop as a pro than never to have had my shot.” His father shook his head sadly. “At
least that way, I’d be sure that I just didn’t have what it takes. It would have been tough at first, but I would have gotten
over it, and I would know that I had given it my best and
“You need to warm up,” his dad insisted.
“In this weather?” Steve started to laugh, but the laughter died in his throat when he saw his father’s expression.
Mr. Greeley stood up. “I know you, Champ. Youneed a lot of time to get your head into the game. Don’t worry about Ginny; she’s got this match all sewn up and she doesn’t
need us to sit here rooting for her. She’ll understand that you have your own worries to deal with. Let’s go.”
Steve knew that there was no point in trying to change his dad’s mind once it was set. He sighed and followed his father as
they edged their way to the aisle.
On the court, Ginny looked up and caught her brother’s eye. She frowned. Steve shrugged and pointed to their father.
Ginny smiled, letting Steve know she knew why they were leaving. Steve gave her a thumbs-up sign.
As they headed toward the clubhouse, Steve heard the solid
thwack
of Ginny’s serve and applause from the crowd. The umpire said, “Thirty—love.”
Her match would be over in seconds. They could easily have stayed to see her win. It didn’t seem fair to Steve. But that’s
the way it was.
You just didn’t argue with Ted Greeley when it came to tennis.
2
W hen Steve and his dad entered the club locker room, there were only a couple of men at one end. Charlie Silver, Steve noted,
was nowhere in sight yet. Apparently,
Charlie
didn’t need that much time to “get his head into the game.” But Steve kept his thoughts to himself. He wondered again what
his dad’s surprise might be and went to get a drink of water from the fountain at the end of the room.
“Don’t drink too much,” cautioned Mr. Greeley. “You don’t want to get bloated.”
Steve, who had known that without being told, straightened up and smiled at his father. “I sure don’t,” he said.
Mr. Greeley sat on a bench and stared hard atSteve. “You remember your other matches against Charlie?” he asked. “What were his weaknesses?”
Steve, who had been through this kind of grilling before, was careful not to show his impatience. And who knew, maybe it
was
helpful.
“He rushes the net too much, so I can win a lot of points with passing shots. If he gets behind quickly, he can get discouraged
and lose his concentration. When his first serve is a fault, his second serve can be real weak. And he wears dorky clothes.”
His dad had been smiling, but he looked annoyed at Steve’s last statement. “How about trying to be serious? All right?”
“Sorry,” Steve mumbled.
His dad nodded. “Okay. What are his strengths?”
“Strong first serve, killer backhand, real tough at the net. If I don’t hit a passing shot while he’s coming in, I have to
try to back him off with high lobs or he’ll kill me.”
Mr. Greeley smiled again. “Good.” He looked around. “Where is Charlie, anyway?”
Steve shrugged and picked up a racket. Charlie, he thought with a touch of envy, knew better than toshow up any earlier than necessary on a day like this. They weren’t due on the court for half an hour, and it wasn’t going
to help his game at all to sit around like this, whatever his dad thought.
Mr. Greeley moved over next to his son and sighed. “I envy you, Steve. You know why?”
Steve knew exactly what was coming, but also knew better than to say so.
“I envy you because you’ve got a chance. A real chance. The thing that really gets me,” his dad went on, as he had done a
hundred times before, “is that I’ll
never know
. Maybe I would have been a major star, and maybe not.
“But I would rather have been a complete flop as a pro than never to have had my shot.” His father shook his head sadly. “At
least that way, I’d be sure that I just didn’t have what it takes. It would have been tough at first, but I would have gotten
over it, and I would know that I had given it my best and
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