Well, let me tell ya ’bout this tennis match, ya know, the one with Jelena Ostapenko and Ons Jabeur. I watched it on that there TV thingy, the one my grandson set up. Don’t understand half of it, but I like watchin’ them smack that little ball around.
Jelena Ostapenko, that girl, she’s somethin’ else. I heard she won some big thingy, a “Grand Slam” they call it. Sounds fancy, right? Like when my Bessie won first prize for her pumpkin pie at the county fair. Anyway, this Ostapenko, she hits the ball hard, like she’s angry at it or somethin’. Reminds me of how I used to whack them weeds in the garden, back when my back wasn’t all achy.
Then there’s this other one, Ons Jabeur. They say she’s from some place far away, not like here in town. She’s a bit different, this Jabeur girl. She’s got more, what do you call it, finesse? Yeah, that’s it. She ain’t just whacking the ball; she’s placing it, like she’s thinkin’ real hard where she wants it to go. Kinda like how I place them biscuits just so on the bakin’ sheet, so they all cook even.
The match, well, it was a back and forth thing, ya know? One minute Ostapenko’s winning, next minute Jabeur’s catching up. It was like watchin’ them squirrels in my backyard chasin’ each other, round and round they go. Sometimes Ostapenko would just slam that ball, and you’d think, “Well, that’s it, nobody’s gettin’ that,” but then Jabeur, she’d somehow get to it, and smack it right back. And sometimes Jabeur would do these fancy shots, all twisty and turny, and Ostapenko would be left standin’ there, lookin’ all confused, like a chicken with its head cut off, bless her heart.
- Ostapenko, she’s a real power hitter. She reminds me of that old mule we used to have, stubborn and strong.
- Jabeur, she’s more clever, like a fox. She outsmarts her opponents, makes ’em run all over the place.
I heard tell that Jabeur, she’s been doin’ real good lately. Been winnin’ lots of matches, they say. Made it to the finals at somethin’ called Wimbledon, which I guess is a big deal in the tennis world. Good for her, I say. It’s always nice to see someone doin’ well, workin’ hard, and gettin’ somewhere. Reminds me of when my Harold finally got that promotion down at the factory, after workin’ there for thirty years. We were so proud.
Ostapenko, though, she’s had her moments too. She’s won a few of them big “Grand Slam” thingies, just like Jabeur. So, it’s like, these two, they’re both real good, you know? It’s not like watchin’ them young’uns playin’ in the park, all clumsy and whatnot. These girls, they know what they’re doin’. They’re professionals, like them doctors and lawyers on TV, only they’re hittin’ tennis balls instead of fixin’ people or arguin’ in court.
And the crowd, oh my, they were somethin’ else too. Clappin’ and cheerin’ and hollerin’. Reminded me of that time we had that big barn raisin’ for old man Johnson, everyone comin’ together to help out. It was nice, in a way, seein’ so many people gettin’ excited about somethin’. Even if it was just a tennis match. I don’t understand all the rules, but I like the energy, the excitement. It’s somethin’ different, you know? Breaks up the day.
So, who won, you ask? Well, it don’t really matter, does it? Both them girls, they played their hearts out. They ran and they jumped and they hit that ball like their lives depended on it. And that’s what matters, I reckon. Tryin’ your best, puttin’ in the effort. Just like makin’ a good pot of stew, ya gotta put in the time and the effort if you want it to turn out right. And these girls, they sure did put in the effort. They’re good girls, both of ’em. And I enjoyed watchin’ ’em play, even if I did fall asleep for a bit in the second set. Don’t tell nobody, though. It’s gettin’ late, and my old bones are tired. Time for a cup of tea and then off to bed. Maybe tomorrow I’ll watch them again, if my grandson can figure out that TV thingy again.
In the end, it’s just a game, right? But it’s a game that brings people together, gets them cheerin’ and hollerin’. And that’s a good thing, I think. We need more of that in the world, more cheerin’ and less fussin’. More tennis and less… well, you know, less of all the bad stuff. So, good on ya, Jelena and Ons. You keep hittin’ them balls, and I’ll keep watchin’, even if I don’t understand half of what’s goin’ on. It’s entertainin’, and that’s good enough for me.
