Tennis+to+the+extreme

Tennis: to the extreme. By: Mikaela Burns I swing my racquet and hit the ball with all my might. Some how it hits the net! Before the next ball comes I switch the power on my racquet to high instead of extra high. The next ball comes and I swing my racquet as hard as I can and follow through. BAM! It’s a killer right down the line, my signature shot. Wow, I can’t even believe I am here. This gargantuan tennis bubble in the University of Minnesota makes me forget how to play tennis. On the walls I see pictures of great tennis players taking a swing at a tennis ball. I want to be one of those players, so I better forget where I am, how important this game is for me and remember how to play. This is probably one of the biggest moments of my life. Here I am for the state championship in Minnesota year 2020. I am warming up to play the best player in the state. There are college scouts that have some of the best tennis teams, in the stands, about to watch my match. “ Kelsey,” my mom shouts, “ Don’t be nervous, everything will be ok.” I reply, “ I know mom!” But I really don’t. I am so nervous I could die. But I have to forget about it. Now that I am done warming up with my coach, he comes to talk to me. “ Kelsey, you can do this. This girl you are going to play is really good. It’s going to be a tough match, stay positive.” Oh no, I think I have forgotten to speak. I choke out something that sort of sounds like “ Thank you.” Here we go. I step onto the court, where I am going to play my match. My opponent from some small town up north walks onto the court. “ Oh my gosh.” I can’t help it, it just comes out. I think my opponent is the most intimidating ugly and strong girl I have ever seen. Her arms are bulging with muscles and her legs look as strong as a horse’s. Her face has a great big mole on it. Her nose looks like a pigs nose, but that would be insulting to the pig. She also has a small girl mustache going on in between her lip and nose. The girl stares at me with anger and wrath in her cold eyes. I stare back, eye of the tiger. I find out her name is Bertha. She almost crushes my hand when she shakes it. Ok I can do this. I just have to stay positive. The game starts and Bertha creams me 40-0 in the first game. Uh oh I am in trouble, she is turning her racquet power up. How can she control that thing? I try to only think about what I am doing. I have a killer serve that she barely can get to and she hits the ball into the net. This is going ok, I think. I win that game. It goes on for a while her winning her serving game and me winning mine. She wins the first set. I am getting down on my self, I feel like I will never be able to beat this insanely great tennis player. But I have to convince myself I can beat her. My spirit helps me survive the next set I win 6-5. Inside I am having a party celebrating my win of the second set, but it is not over. It’s the last set. The game is intense as ever. When I serve a game it sometimes goes into double deuce, but I still win. It’s Bertha’s serve, and the game score is 5-6, I am losing. But I break her serve with a short ball, that her horse legs can’t carry her to! 6-6 means a tie breaker. The pressure is on. It’s 5-6 I am up by one point in the tiebreaker! If I win this point I win the match and my team, the Edina varsity tennis team will win State! It’s Bertha’s serve, it is right on the line and I fall trying to get to it. My knee is searing with pain. I don’t believe this is happening. My parents and my coach rush onto the court, yelling “ ARE YOU OK?!” I can’t let this stop me I am so close to winning. I tell them I am fine when I’m not, but I have to be ok to win this. It’s 6-6, all I have to do is win 2 points and I win the match. My serve is more like a lob because of the pain in my knee. But I don’t think Bertha likes lobs all that well because she swung and totally missed the ball. This is it next point and I win. I look into the crowd, all the college scouts are writing things in their notebook, and my parents are on the edge of their seats. I see my teammates holding up the signs we made before we came to the University. I somehow forget everybody counting on me, and how much my knee hurts. I serve the ball and it is a great one. Bertha hits the ball deep and I get to it. I hit it lightly praying it will be enough to carry it over the net. It barely gets over. It drops right at the foot of the net. Bertha can’t get to it in time! My parents, teammates, and my coach all come down to the court. I get hugs and we take pictures. I go to shake Bertha’s hand; she looks like she wants to punch me in the face. But she doesn’t. Next is the trophy ceremony. My team gets awesome first place trophies! There are many “ Congratulations!” from all the parents. I look at the pictures on the wall again, and I know I will be one of those players.