Find the Thing That Never Abandons You

<p>Charlie was a bear of a man, standing well over six feet tall with a robust paunch sustained by steak, potatoes, and a fidelity to evening cocktails.</p> <p>He moved like a lumbering bear, juggling a basket full of tennis balls in one meaty hand, and a large Wilson tennis bag slung over his broad shoulders like Santa&rsquo;s bag of toys. Except there were no toys, just tennis rackets, more balls, notebooks, sunscreen, a hat, and a canteen of water.</p> <p>At least I thought the canteen contained water.</p> <p>I don&rsquo;t know what else Charlie did for a living, but what I do know is that tennis was his life. He followed all the tournaments, subscribed to all the magazines, and was a fixture on the courts of the local community college where I spent my summers playing tennis.</p> <p>Charlie was not an elegant tennis player.</p> <p>His size prevented quick movement, grace, and agility. But what he lacked in athleticism he made up for with consistency, strategy, and sheer love for the game.</p> <p><img alt="" src="https://miro.medium.com/v2/resize:fit:630/1*7lI2eqxC-Ramd4LwOhT-vw.jpeg" style="height:525px; width:700px" /></p> <p>Me playing tennis in high school</p> <p>During my freshman high school year, I tried out for the varsity tennis team but ended up on the junior varsity team. My father saw my disappointment and realized that I needed to improve my game. He offered to pay for private lessons and I suggested Charlie.</p> <p>That&rsquo;s how Charlie became my tennis coach.</p> <p><a href="https://medium.com/personal-growth/find-the-thing-that-never-abandons-you-73f7024fcacb"><strong>Website</strong></a></p>
Tags: Abandons