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Pickleball: You Don’t Have To Be A Great Player To Become A Coach

I discovered a system that is without a doubt the fastest way for people to improve their games. I call it “Socratic Pickleball,” or “Socratic Analytical Pickleball.”

For Socratic coaching, you don’t have to be a great player. All you need is be good enough to spot some of the things people aren’t doing properly. You can greatly increase that ability by watching some YouTube videos. Focus on instructional videos as well as high-level competitions.

Socratic works like this: Four players of approximately equal skill level, or three players and you as the coach, play games that are ordinary doubles pickleball. However, you stop between many of the rallies to discuss strategies.

I believe this would work well for two singles players, or a singles player and a coach as well, but so far I have only worked with doubles pickleball.

The players are encouraged to interact. It doesn’t always have to be advice handed down from on high from the coach. As rallies are discussed, many interesting notions come up, many of which are presented in ways that are more memorable than just watching videos, or having the coach say ‘do this,’ or ‘do that.’ So, you can be more of a facilitator than instructor.

The player who is reluctant to come to the kitchen quickly learns to do so. The player who has never tried a long shot with forehand topspin learns how it’s done. The player who has gone into a serving slump (‘the yips’) learns ways to quickly overcome the problem. The experienced player who is trying to answer many deep shots with backspin learns why that may not be a good idea, players learn the difference between a defensive lob and an offensive lob, and much more!

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In fact, this can be done without a coach. (Of course that’s not what this post is about. This is about making money as a pickleball coach.) Any four players can get together and critique at the end of rallies. Even without the coach, a lot of improvement will come to these players.

Did I say critique? It is important not to load up anyone with too much advice, especially negative advice. It is a rare human who could handle someone telling them “For the thousandth time, I’m telling you you’ve got to come to the kitchen!” without feeling resentful. In ideal Socratic pickleball, it is better to say something like, “Your backcourt play is so good, maybe you should see what you can do when you come more quickly to the kitchen,” or “I find I can cut off more angles at the kitchen.”

The Socratic method is attributed to the philosopher Socrates, who it is said would often ask questions, then allow his students to debate the relevant issues.

The version I was initially teaching was four weeks of one-hour sessions. Each player paid $285, so I was making $285 per hour. Now, I do live in Marin County, California where money flows more freely, but I think in most communities a price close to that is possible.

More recently, I’ve been coaching for free and just asking my participants to support their local food banks.

Did I mention you don’t have to be a highly skilled player? I have done some Socratic coaching and at my height, I was rated at only 4.5, and that’s when ratings were more liberal than they are today.

There are other professional coaching variations you might also consider. Some things that come to mind are:

1. Group sessions. You can teach the very basics of pickleball to beginners. If you have the skill, you can hold workshops on speed at the kitchen, topspins and backspins, or third-shot drops.

2. You can organize pickleball festivals for which you could charge admission. This would take some organizing. You could have a day of festivities that include demonstrations by invited guests, fun and games that involve pickleball skills, food vendors, a raffle, and maybe even an evening dance.

3. I believe there are millions of pickleball players who would like to focus on drilling. Your job would be mostly to spend a half-hour or an hour with your students working on one skill at a time, such as diagonal dinking, passing shots, defensive lobs, split stepping, and so on.

4. For around $1,000 you can buy a ball machine. The most popular one is called Lobster. Add in $200 worth of balls, and you can provide great skill-building fun for your students.

You don’t have to do this alone! Call or text me at (805) 843-5353. I can be your business coach to start or expand your pickleball coaching business!

Here’s what a few people have said:

Thanks Jeff. I loved joining the group! Thank you for sharing your time and amazing pickle skills with all of us. I have learned a lot from you. – C.M.

Thank you for another wonderful lesson, Maestro! – K.E.

This has all been really fun and helpful. – Jeff

Thank you SOOOO much for your wisdom, cheer, and teaching skill. – K.E.

The Socratic pickleball sessions were extremely helpful! I not only learned but got to practice some new techniques. Jeff made it fun as well as informative. I am hoping to be able to do more Socratic sessions! – Nancy Boughey

Had a great time at Socratic Pickleball! Was so helpful to stop mid-game and think about what just happened. Jeff, our Socrates, was always encouraging us to push our skills to try new approaches, all while having a fun time. And you’ll love “The Yawn” 🥱.

– Ray Michaelsen

Thank you so much, Jeff. You’re a great teacher and getting corrections while the game is in play has been invaluable.

– Lou Gurman

Thank you for all that you have taught me. Very grateful. – Laura

Jeff’s generous Socratic pickleball coaching was a bright spot in a dark season. In just four weeks, I’ve improved more than with any teacher so far, and it was always a delight to hear his wry and gentle wisdom. Now if I could only remember to bend my knees…
Katherine Ellison

Jeff’s enthusiasm for pickleball is infectious! He always has a smile on his face and a positive outlook on how to improve your game. He was extremely helpful with instruction and tips on how to play with all types of players… great experience.
DS

Jeff’s Socratic clinics are helpful, effective, and fun! He covers all aspects of play, from simple physical technique to strategy and also emphasizing the importance of a positive mental outlook. Stopping play to analyze shot sequences really helps to understand how points are won and lost. His approach is a good blend of taking the game seriously without being too serious about it!
Thank you so much Jeff!
Jeff Bayles

Jeff made the concepts so approachable, now I know I can improve everyday, and most of all have fun. It’s the little tweaks that make the difference over time and Jeff has a special way of sharing that. I hear his voice, “where’s your partner?”, “are your knees bent?’!! Thanks, Jeff!!!

You might enjoy another of my websites: OddPickleball.com.

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Figure Skating Jokes

Figure skating costumes cost more than my car. They’re covered in crystals, completely bedazzled, and have exactly zero practical pockets. You can’t even carry your phone.

The scoring system in figure skating involves technical components, artistic impression, and apparently mystical forces that only judges understand. I’ve watched explanations for hours and I’m still convinced they’re just making up numbers based on vibes.

Pair skaters have to trust their partners to throw them in the air and catch them. I don’t trust my partner to catch a set of keys.

Figure skaters fall on ice going 20 miles per hour and just get up like nothing happened. I slipped on a wet floor once and lay there for 10 minutes reconsidering my life choices. These people are built different.

Ice dancers perform intricate choreography while maintaining eye contact and smiling. I can’t maintain eye contact during normal conversations without it getting weird.

Figure skaters train for four years for a four-minute program. That’s roughly 35,000 hours of practice for 240 seconds of performance.

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Figure skating requires strength, flexibility, artistry, and the ability to smile while internally screaming. It’s basically a physical manifestation of “this is fine” meme while everything is on fire and also you’re spinning.

I went to a public skating session thinking I’d practice some figure skating moves. The session was full of speed skaters going Mach 5 and hockey players treating the rink like a combat zone. I hugged the wall and prayed. No figure skating occurred.

Figure skaters wear tights that somehow stay perfectly smooth even during jumps and spins. I wear tights to the office and they’re bunched around my ankles by 10 AM.

Every figure skating costume has a “modesty panel” sewn in. This is because the skaters are doing splits and spins at high speeds in front of thousands of people. The engineering required to keep everything family-friendly is probably more complex than the actual skating.

I tried watching figure skating with my dad and he kept asking why they don’t just play hockey instead. “All that ice and no one’s checking anyone into the boards? What’s the point?” I couldn’t explain it in a way that satisfied him.

Figure skaters retire at like 25 and I’m just getting started at that age. They’ve already had entire careers, won medals, and destroyed their joints by the time I figured out what I wanted to do with my life.

The kiss and cry area where skaters wait for their scores is the most emotionally volatile 60 square feet in sports. You go from hopeful to devastated in seconds, all while sitting on a bench, holding stuffed animals thrown by strangers. It’s a psychological experiment disguised as a waiting room.

Figure skaters travel with an entire suitcase just for skate equipment. Skates, guards, different blades, tools for adjustments. I travel with flip flops and hope for the best. We are not the same.

The toe pick on figure skates is used for jumps and spins but is mostly known for causing catastrophic falls when you forget it exists. It’s like having a built-in trip hazard attached to your feet. Whose idea was this?

Figure skating competitions start at like 7 AM and go until midnight. Someone performing at 11 PM has been at the rink since dawn, waiting, warming up, staying loose, managing anxiety. It’s not a sport, it’s an endurance test of patience and caffeine management.

Every figure skating documentary has the same plot: child shows promise, family sacrifices everything, skater trains obsessively, injury happens, triumphant comeback or devastating defeat. It’s a formula, but it works every time. I cry regardless.

The difference between a double and triple jump is one rotation, which happens in a fraction of a second. Yet that fraction determines whether you’re a club skater or an Olympian. The margin for error is so thin it’s basically a theoretical concept.

Figure skating boots cost $800, blades cost another $600, and they last maybe 6 months with serious training. That’s $2,800 a year just for the shoes. I complain when running shoes cost $120. I have no right to complain about anything ever again.

Synchronized skating exists and it’s 16-20 people doing intricate formations on ice while maintaining exact spacing and timing. I can’t even walk in a straight line with one other person without bumping into them. This seems impossible. It probably is impossible. They’re faking it somehow.

Coaches say “try again” so often, skaters think it’s their middle name.

Skaters don’t sweat — they sparkle attractively under fluorescent rink lights.

The Zamboni driver is basically the superhero of practice: one lap and the ice is reborn.

Every skater’s nightmare: finishing a routine perfectly… then realizing the music was for someone else.

Skaters bow at the end not just for applause, but to check if their laces survived.

Parents of skaters don’t clap at performances; they calculate how much money each jump cost in lessons.

Skaters don’t dream of vacations — they dream of ice time that isn’t at 5 a.m.

Skating friends don’t hug; they crash into each other and call it choreography.

Coaches don’t yell “focus!” — they yell “stop inventing new ways to fall.”

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Dwayne Johnson, Kindness

During a theater screening of Red Notice, Johnson surprised Oscar Rodriguez with his own custom truck. Johnson chose Rodriguez because of his positive attitude, his care for his elderly mother, his leadership at his church, and his support for victims of domestic violence.

Rodriguez was moved to tears by the gift.


Bruno Lauer had helped The Rock and his mom: when Johnson was evicted as a teen, Bruno took them in, later gave Johnson a place to stay when he was starting out, and once even gave Johnson his last $40 to help him with his first car. Johnson later surprised Bruno with a truck (a new Ford F-150) as a thank you.


A 10-year-old boy, Jacob O’Connor, used techniques he had seen in San Andreas to save his younger brother from drowning. Johnson invited Jacob, his mother, and his brother to meet him on the set of Skyscraper in Vancouver.

He treated them with attention, recognized the boy’s heroic act, and got to spend time with him.


Johnson has been known to meet fans in informal moments, giving them hugs, talking with them, sometimes taking time to listen. For example, there’s a story of a young boy (Marco) who was overwhelmed meeting Johnson; Rock responded with kindness and comfort.

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At a Black Adam event, when a fan handed him their baby on stage, Johnson accepted and held the child.


Johnson surprised his mother, Ata Johnson, with a new home (“Le Samoana”) made for her, including a WWE SmackDown room, honoring Samoan heritage, with the entire design taking about eight weeks.


A fan named Jonny Cleasby told Johnson that seeing him had inspired Cleasby to lose about 60 pounds since January. During an interaction where they met and spoke, Johnson encouraged him, calling that kind of impact “the best part of fame.”


Johnson connected with a young fan battling cancer in the hospital (Kane), along with his twin brother and parents. He video-called them, showed kindness in the interaction, and made an emotional connection. Sadly, Kane passed away shortly afterward. But Johnson’s gesture was deeply meaningful.


He surprised 12-year-old Luna Perrone, who is battling a rare bone cancer. He posed as a waiter at Hotel Bel Air, served her lunch, and gave the family a heartfelt surprise.


At a movie premiere in Germany, he saw a fan holding a sign and crying. He took a moment to calm her, encouraged her to take a few deep breaths, then took a selfie with her and her friends. He later reflected on how these moments are among the sweetest parts of fame

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Snoop Dogg’s Acts of Kindness

Here are some thoughtful and impactful acts of kindness and philanthropy Snoop Dogg has been involved in:

In July 2023, Snoop Dogg donated $10,000 to help Josephine Wright, a 93-year-old woman in Hilton Head Island, S.C., preserve her ancestral land amid a contentious legal battle with developers. He shared, “I did it from the heart. She reminds me of my mother and grandmother.”

Founded in 2005, SYFL (Snoop Youth Football League) offers inner-city children opportunities in football and cheer, emphasizing teamwork, discipline, and academics. In mid-2024, Raising Cane’s donated $100,000 to the league, with Snoop publicly expressing his gratitude.

His efforts also earned him the “Social Leadership” Award at City of Hope’s Songs of Hope fundraiser, recognizing the league’s positive impact on communities.

Amid devastating wildfires in early 2025, Snoop Dogg transformed his Inglewood clothing store into a hub for collecting donations – food, clothing, and essentials – for evacuees. He personally helped distribute items and even gave out free clothes to those impacted.

In the mid-2010s, Snoop repeatedly hosted Thanksgiving giveaways in Inglewood, handing out between 1,000 and 3,000 turkeys to families in need. He partnered with the mayor and local officials, aiming to ensure everyone could enjoy a holiday meal and engaging warmly with the community.

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During a Hilarity for Charity event—Seth Rogen’s non-profit to raise Alzheimer’s awareness, Snoop auctioned off a blunt on stage, which fetched $10,000 for the cause.

In 2019, Snoop teamed up with Cash App for a Giving Tuesday campaign. Donations to his foundation, “Snoop’s Special Stars,” which organizes a football league where “EveryBODY plays,” were matched up to $200,000.

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Mobile Bike Repair Business

If you know a lot about fixing bicycles, a great opportunity awaits.

If you know only how to fix flat tires and handle small repairs, you still have an opportunity. For any thing beyond your capabilities, you can offer to transport stranded riders and their bikes to their homes or to a better-equipped bike shop.

Starting a mobile bike repair business is easier than starting a full retail bike shop. On the other hand, a mobile bike repair business can be a profitable stepping stone to an eventual bike shop.

You could start as simply as loading some tools, a few spare parts and a good tire pump onto your bike shop, and meet stranded bicyclists on the road.


mobile bike repair trike

On the other end of the spectrum, you could equip a tall van with everything from a workstand to a vise, power source, and welding equipment. You can also carry 90% of the parts bicyclists need, and even a few accessories.

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Mobile bike repair can be done in one or all of three general ways:

1. You help stranded bicyclists. They call, you roll. It’s your choice whether you’d want to keep office hours, or be on-call 24 hours a day. Keep in mind that most recreational bicycle riding is done during the daytime, but on weekends.

2. People make an appointment for you to go to their homes to fix up the families’ bicycles. This often includes full tune-ups, and could potentially include major overhauls and repairs. This can be especially lucrative because you may have four or more repairs at a single location. You might even encourage them to make a ‘neighborhood bicycle repair fair,’ inviting all their friends and neighbors.

3. You travel to a public location such as a flea market, doing repair work for people who stumble upon you, or those who know you’re going to be there. Unless you do something to publicize your presence for the first time at a place such as a flea market, your first week is likely to be really slow. However, once people catch on to you being there week after week, you can expect a lot of business.

Initially, you can lay in a stock of common replacement parts by simply buying them at a local bike shop. If you tell them your plans, they may give you a small discount, typically 10%, hoping you’ll become a steady, high-volume customer.

You may find better deals on the most common parts such as inner tubes and saddles at discount stores.

In time, you can become established with bicycle wholesalers, giving you a better markup on parts. If your only income was from repair labor, that could be good enough, but augmenting it with parts sales is icing on the cake.

Then, if you want your cake and eat it too, you can lay in a stock of attractive accessories. You might realize quite a profit by selling jerseys, locks, helmets, and maybe even carry a complete bike or two in your van.

For more about the bicycle business in general, see How To Start A Bike Shop.

For more general business information to help you start this business, see General Business Action Pack.

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Used Bicycle Opportunity

Secondhand bicycles offer a unique buying and selling opportunity because they are plentiful, easy to sell, and the perceived values can vary considerably. Computers become out-of-date too quickly. Clothing generally has less value, requires sizing, and much of it is stained or torn. Furniture can be bulky. But with bicycles there’s money to be had!

Bikes at garage sales can be incredibly inexpensive. The people may be moving next week, and haven’t been able to sell their bikes for a reasonable price. The owner of the bike may be at college and the parents want to sell it to help pay for textbooks. A bike may be broken and quite undervalued by the owner. It is very common to pay $25 for a typical mountain bike, one that sold for $300 when it was new. You can put $20 worth of parts in it, perhaps $50 for labor if you don’t do it yourself, and then sell it for $150. For a few months, in a somewhat offbeat scheme to support some relatives, I did this with twenty bikes per week out of my one-car garage. I just went to as many garage sales as I could hit on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, rounding up the bikes with my pickup truck. If I didn’t have a pickup truck, I could have rented a U-Haul for $40 or so on Sunday evening, and gather up all the bikes I had purchased over the weekend.

It is great if you can display your bikes locked up outdoors, with prominent price signs where many people drive by, but most people don’t have a place to do this. You might consider a consignment arrangement with someone who does. You can place classified ads in the newspaper, and although expensive, this generally works well. In most communities, the best bet is Craigslist. You can place ads for as many bikes as you want, along with pictures, and it is all free. Here’s more about Craigslist.

When I was doing this out of a home, I mostly dealt in medium-quality mountain bikes, a few road bikes, and one or two children’s bikes. In general, children’s and low-end adult bikes don’t sell for a sufficient profit to be worth your while. A twenty-year-old mountain bike that you price at $150 or $200 is the easiest thing to sell. I also had some relatively high-end bikes when I could find good enough deals. Typically, I’d pay $100 or $150 for a high-end bike at a garage sale, and sell it for $600.

As you develop your selling business, you’ll discover that you no longer need to get all your bikes at garage sales. People will start calling to find out whether you’ll buy their old bikes. You can enhance that by telling everyone you see that you’re always willing to buy broken or inexpensive adult bikes. (Remember, there just isn’t much money in low-end and children’s bikes.)

You’ll want to be careful about stolen bicycles. They don’t generally show up at garage sales because thieves don’t operate that way. They wouldn’t want the exposure. Still, you’ll want to be careful about anything in too good a condition at too good a price being sold by people between 12 and 25 years old unless their families are at the sale with them.

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If you have doubts about the history of a bike, you can ask the seller for a receipt. Often they’ll have legitimate excuses – such as they didn’t save the receipt. But if they can produce a receipt, you’ll know for sure that the bike has not been stolen. Sometimes, you can ask whether anyone has taken a picture that includes the bike. If they show you an old picture on their smartphone, it’s a pretty good bet that the bike has a good history.

In many communities, the police have worked out some sort of system to register used bikes. If you start dealing with used bikes regularly, they’ll want you to let them know about bikes you purchase. This probably isn’t as important as when you get an actual store, but you’ll want to participate if you can to protect the community at large from bike theft. The police won’t charge you any money, but they’ll want you to provide the serial number, description and source of every bike you handle. They usually ask you to hold every bike for 72 hours so they can have a chance to follow up if something turns out to be stolen. The downside is that if a bike is stolen, you’ll have to give it up, and won’t be reimbursed for what you paid. The upside is that the owner from which it was stolen gets it back.

Imagine a twelve-year-old boy who saved all summer to buy his BMX bike, has it for two weeks, leaves it unlocked in a friend’s yard, as twelve-year-olds will do, and discovers it has been stolen. The poor thing will cry his eyes out. If you can help prevent that sort of scenario, you can be proud to do so. Wouldn’t it be a great gesture to clean and tune a bike that’s going to be reunited with it’s owner? I never got the chance. I registered hundreds of bikes with my local authorities, and no bike was ever reported as stolen. Part of the reason is that the majority of bikes I purchased were broken, not shiny, valuable bikes. I think another reason is that most homeowners fail to record the serial numbers of their bikes, laptop computers, cameras and such gear.

If the police recover bikes that have been stolen, but don’t have a serial number or some way to positively identify the bike and reunite it with its owner. they hold it a while, then sell it at a ‘police auction.’ You can sometimes buy some remarkably good bikes for very little money at these auctions. You’re bidding against the general public, most of whom are looking for bikes for themselves, and know very little about how valuable certain models are. Others will see a bent wheel, or a missing cable, and just assume the bike is beyond their ability to repair for a reasonable cost.

That’s not always the case. Sometimes, the police auctions are way too popular, and you’d be wasting your time to try to buy bikes there. For instance, at some auctions, you need to pay as soon as you win each bike, so you miss the opportunity to bid on the next several bikes that go across the block while you’re waiting in line at the cashier. Of course, in that case, bringing a friend to help is a good idea. Some of the best auctions happen in inclement weather. In late fall, the police will have their last auction of the year. These will be many good bikes that accumulated during the end of the summer. There’s less interest as soon as the weather cools, and if it rains, or snows, there won’t be many bidders. You win. Mostly. But there is an unexpected catch.

When you buy a bike at a police auction, guess what? It may still be a stolen bike! Normally, this means nothing, and having gone through the process, and paid money, it is morally and nominally yours. But if the original owner discovers you have his bike, you are obligated to give it back.

Buying and selling can also be about parts and accessories. I believe a person could watch eBay like a hawk, and pick up things like Campagnolo components, and bullet headlights from bikes from the 1950s. You could turn right around and sell them for more on eBay. There is 14-speed internally geared hub made by a company called Rholoff that sells for $1000.



The Rholoff Speedhub – 14 Speeds

via: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Marcela

If you could pick a used one up on eBay for $300, you could sell it for $600 – $700 easily. Interestingly, even a common three-speed hub sells regularly on eBay for $40. You might also mix and match with your local market, using Craigslist and garage sales. I think another good eBay business could be had by buying the lowest of the low bikes locally – you know, the department store $100 mountain bikes, disassembling them, and selling the pieces on eBay. Better yet, if you can score the older bikes, maybe something like a Peugeot PX-10 from 1970, you can disassemble them, and sell the parts for a rather remarkable sum.

Low-end larger bike parts such as frames, forks and complete wheels are hard to sell profitably due to the shipping cost. Hubs, shifters, derailleurs, handlebar stems and saddles sell surprisingly well.

For more about the general business of buying and selling bicycles, check out General Business Action Pack.

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Bicycle Messenger

If you live in an urban community, or even a small town, to become a bicycle messenger is as easy as falling off a log. All you need is a bike and a cell phone. You can make up some business cards and flyers. Your first task as a messenger is to deliver the flyers to bulletin boards all over town, and to deliver the cards into the hands of as many people as you can. Don’t forget about Craigslist – a great cost-free way to advertise a service in most towns. If you live in a large city, there may already be messenger services. But there’s always room for more. Especially if you do something unique. For instance, you might deliver meals between 9pm and midnight. Or you might specialize in transporting medical records – whatever you find a need for in your city. If you’re in a small town, even as small as 5,000 residents, you can set up a general messenger service and prosper nicely.

Although messengers who use cars can deliver more quickly and can carry larger packages, many people just love the idea of the small ecological footprint of utilizing bicycles to deliver their messages, lunches and small packages.

Meanwhile, you get exercise while at work, and are likely to live a longer, happier, healthier life than one who spends their time at a desk.

Do be careful about breathing air pollution and stay aware of traffic. Statistically, you’re better off health-wise riding your bike than sitting around doing nothing. This is not a job for someone who doesn’t get enough sleep, is unaware, drinks too much, or takes unnecessary risks.

If an organized bicycle messenger service exists in your area, you might start by working for them, so you can learn intricacies of the business. Later, when you set out as an independent, you’ll make money on your own.

For general information about how to start and promote a bicycle messenger service, you might find this page helpful: General Business Action Pack.

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Ebike Sales

See Also How to Start a Bike Shop

Electric bicycles are so popular now that I believe you could source them on Amazon or Ebay and resell them locally. You could use Craigslist to sell your bikes, or just ride them around and talk with people.

This would be an easy experiment to run because you can start with a single electric bike and see what happens.

It is important not to go with low-end junk electric bikes that have short battery lifespans, or frequent mechanical failures, since you don’t want to be responsible for them.

In fact, it is a good idea to make it very clear that you don’t guarantee your bikes – unless you’re willing to take that on.

You could also resell used e-bikes, but be very careful that the batteries aren’t worn out. Batteries are very expensive and can be hard to get.

As your business grows, you could buy bikes from wholesalers or manufacturers, move into a glass-front retail store and hire a sales and repair staff.

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Cleveland, Ohio

The term “Rock and Roll” was coined in Cleveland by DJ Alan Freed in the early 1950s, paving the way for the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame to be built there.

The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame’s architect, I.M. Pei, had never designed a museum before, and admitted he didn’t even like rock music.

Cleveland once banned women from wearing patent leather shoes, fearing men could see reflections of their undergarments.

Frank Sinatra was once banned from performing in Cleveland due to concerns about his “influence on juvenile delinquency.”

The first electric traffic light was installed in Cleveland in 1914, long before most cities even had cars.

Cleveland is the only U.S. city to be lit on fire, twice, due to pollution. Most infamously, the Cuyahoga River has caught fire at least a dozen times.

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A Cleveland company once manufactured inflatable dartboards as a joke product—and a few got accidentally sold in toy stores.

The city was once home to the world’s largest rubber stamp—a 28-foot-long “FREE” stamp gifted by the Pop Art movement.

The Cleveland Clinic performed the world’s first face transplant in the U.S. in 2008. A successful face transplant was performed three years earlier in France.

Cleveland Public Library’s map room contains over 1 million maps, including ones of fictional places like Middle-earth.

In 1969, Cleveland State University offered a credited course in UFOs taught by a tenured professor of sociology.

Case Western Reserve University once had a robot mailman named “MailBot” that navigated buildings long before Amazon bots existed.

Cleveland’s downtown mall (called The Mall) was originally designed in 1903 as part of a utopian plan to make it the “Paris of America.”

The Free Stamp art installation, a huge rubber stamp measuring 49 feet long and 28 feet high (15 x 8.5 meters) marked with “FREE” was originally rejected by city leaders and left in a warehouse for years, until it was “accidentally” reinstalled downtown.

There’s a statue of Superman in Cleveland’s Glenville neighborhood—because he was created there in 1938 by two teenagers, Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster.

In 1986, Cleveland tried to break the world record for balloon releases—1.5 million balloons were launched. Many landed in Lake Erie, disrupting the Coast Guard and airport traffic. It was a PR disaster.

Cleveland once held a festival dedicated to duct tape, featuring duct tape fashion shows, prom outfits, and sculpture contests.

The Cleveland Browns once fired their coach after a winning season, a move still debated and mocked by NFL fans everywhere.

The city has hosted more championship parades for high school marching bands than for professional sports teams—until 2016.

Lake Erie occasionally freezes over completely, turning the Cleveland shoreline into an Arctic tundra.

Cleveland once experienced a “fish storm”, where a waterspout sucked fish from the lake and rained them down on a suburb.

In 1978, the “Cleveland Superbomb” blizzard hit Cleveland so suddenly that people abandoned their cars and took shelter in strangers’ homes.

Some Clevelanders claim the city’s winters are “medically invigorating” a phrase once used in promotional brochures from the 1920s.

Polish Boy sandwiches—a combination of kielbasa, fries, slaw, and BBQ sauce on a bun—are a uniquely Cleveland concoction.

Cleveland is home to the last remaining Hough Bakery cake recipes, which are so revered they’re under lock and key.

Clevelanders celebrate National Pierogi Day with full-on parades, wrestling matches, and even pierogi-eating contests.

A “Lake Erie Monster” has been sighted off the Cleveland coast since the 1800s. Some claim it’s a giant sturgeon, others a lake serpent.

In 1975, the city was briefly obsessed with a goat who could balance on a telephone pole, drawing crowds of confused but entertained residents.

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Bicycle Jokes

Why did the bicycle fall over? Because it was two tired!

My bike mechanic told me I needed new brakes. I told him, “No breaks! I’m on a tight schedule!”

Why did the bike go to therapy? It had too much chain anxiety.

A cyclist is pulled over by a police officer. The officer says, “Sir, do you know why I pulled you over?” The cyclist replies, “No, officer, I don’t. Was I going too fast?” The officer sighs, “No, you were riding with no hands, no helmet, and you were juggling flaming torches. And you had a parrot on your shoulder yelling obscenities.” The cyclist shrugs, “Well, I was just trying to have some fun!”

I joined a cycling club. The welcome packet included a waiver, a map, and a tube of chamois cream.
I’m still not sure if I joined a sports club or a cult with suspiciously smooth thighs.

I went on a blind date with a cyclist.
Everything was going great until she said, “I only date people who can hold 22 mph on a climb.”
I said, “I only date people who believe in gravity.”

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Why did the bicycle break up with the treadmill?
Because it couldn’t handle a relationship that went nowhere.

I asked my date if she wanted to go tandem biking.
She said she preferred relationships where one person wasn’t doing all the work.

My bike has more gear than I do.
Seriously, it’s got 21 speeds, disc brakes, and electronic shifting.
Meanwhile, I’m riding in gym shorts and praying I remembered deodorant.

My bike got stolen last week.
The thief left a note: “Sorry, but this ride deserved better than you.”

Cyclists are like cats.
They’re sleek, independent, occasionally hissy, and when they fall, they pretend it was on purpose.

My friend bought a $5,000 bike and now rides 3 miles every other Sunday.
At that rate, he’ll break even sometime in the 28th century.

I got pulled over on my bike for speeding.
I asked the cop if I was really going that fast. He said, “No, but your outfit is a crime.”

I tried group riding, but the only thing I learned was how to apologize while gasping,
“Sorry… can’t keep up…”

My bike is like my therapist.
It listens without judgment, supports me when I’m down, and lets me scream into the wind without anyone calling the police.

I asked a cyclist how long it takes to get used to the saddle.
He said, “About six months. Then the numbness becomes part of your personality.”

You know you’re a cyclist when your tan lines look like you fell asleep in a cage.

My kid asked why I ride my bike so much.
I said, “Because it’s the only time I can hear my own thoughts.”
He said, “That’s sad, Dad.”
I said, “I know. Now go fetch my helmet.”

What do you call a cyclist who doesn’t wear a helmet? An organ donor.

What do you call a bicycle built by a chemist? Bike-carbonate of soda.

Why did the cyclist bring a map to the velodrome? He kept going in circles.

What’s the difference between a cyclist and a fish? One has scales, the other has wheels.

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Pickleball Jokes

The picture above is your editor playing pickleball.
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A sociologist, a psychologist, and a pickleball player walk into a bar. The sociologist observes the social dynamics of the other patrons. The psychologist analyzes their motivations. The pickleball player immediately starts critiquing the bartender’s form, explaining how a lower center of gravity would lead to a much more efficient pour.

My therapist told me I have a pickleball addiction. I told her that’s ridiculous. Then I asked if she wanted to see my new paddle. She said no. I can’t be friends with someone who has such a negative outlook on life.

How many pickleball players does it take to change a lightbulb? Four. One to screw it in, and three to stand around and argue about whether their feet were in the kitchen when they did it.

I’ve started to realize that my pickleball strategy has a lot in common with my approach to life’s problems: just keep dinking it back and hope the other person messes up first.

A guy is explaining pickleball to his friend. “So, you hit a plastic ball with a paddle over a net.” The friend asks, “Like tennis?” “No, not at all,” the player scoffs. “The net is lower, and there’s a kitchen.” The friend, now thoroughly confused, asks, “Do you cook in it?” The player sighs, “No, of course not. That would be a foot fault.”

My doctor told me to take up a new sport for my health. I chose pickleball. Now I have the heart of a 30-year-old, the knees of a 70-year-old, and a burning desire to talk about the kitchen with anyone who will listen.

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I went to a fancy restaurant the other day, and the waiter asked if I wanted to start with a soup or a salad. I told him I’d rather just dink for a while to see what he’s got. He didn’t appreciate my strategy.

You can tell a lot about a person by how they react to getting hit with a pickleball. Some apologize, some laugh, and some… well, some start practicing their overhead slams with a little too much intensity.

A man is on a first date. It’s going well, and he’s trying to impress the woman. She asks him what he’s passionate about. He leans in conspiratorially and says, “I’m a nationally-ranked pickleball player.” The woman’s eyes light up. “Wow, that’s amazing! What’s your secret?” He looks around, then whispers, “I tell everyone I’m a nationally-ranked pickleball player.”

A pickleball player passes away and finds himself at the Pearly Gates. St. Peter greets him and says, “Welcome! Before you enter, we have a special pickleball court for our new arrivals. You can play a match against anyone from history.” The player is thrilled and asks, “Can I play against Moses?” St. Peter nods, and soon the player is on a beautiful court with Moses. The game begins, and every time the player hits a shot, Moses parts the net and the ball rolls right through. Frustrated, the player says, “This isn’t fair!” Moses replies, “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to play with the guy who wrote the rules.”

A couple is playing a heated game of mixed doubles. The husband keeps poaching his wife’s shots. After the third time, she slams her paddle down on the court and yells, “What are you doing? Those were my shots!” The husband replies, “I’m sorry, dear. I just have more confidence in my ability to hit the ball into the net than you do.”

A pickleball player is bragging to his friends about his new paddle. “It’s made of a special carbon fiber that was developed by NASA,” he says. “It gives me incredible power and control.” One of his friends asks, “So, you’re winning more games?” The player shakes his head. “No, but now I can blame my losses on a much more expensive piece of equipment.”

A group of pickleball players are sitting around after a long day of play. One of them says, “You know, I think pickleball is the perfect metaphor for life. It’s all about finding the right partner, communicating effectively, and trying to stay out of the kitchen as much as possible.”

My partner and I have an amazing on-court dynamic. I set them up for the perfect shot, and they hit it directly at the other team’s strongest player. It’s a strategy we call “indirect intimidation.”

I don’t always play pickleball, but when I do, I make sure to spend the first ten minutes complaining about the wind, the sun, and the questionable lineage of the ball.

The hardest part about pickleball isn’t the third shot drop; it’s convincing your tennis-playing friends that it’s a real sport.

I’ve spent so much money on pickleball paddles that I’m considering declaring them as dependents on my taxes.

My family has started to get concerned about my pickleball obsession. They say I need to find a better work-life-pickleball balance.

I asked a pro for their best pickleball tip. They said, “The most important thing is to have fun.” Then they hit a serve that nearly took my head off. I guess fun is relative.

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Funny Pickleball Quotes

Unfortunately, there are no attributions for these quotes. If you know who first said any of these, please let everyone know in the comment section below.

“Pickleball: Where dignity goes to die, but fun is resurrected.”

“I play pickleball for the cardio… just kidding, I play for the snacks after.”

“If pickleball isn’t the answer, you’re asking the wrong question.”

“Pickleball: The only sport where a kitchen violation has nothing to do with cooking.”

“Some people retire and play pickleball. Others play pickleball so they can retire.”

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“I like my opponents the way I like my pickles – dill-lightfully crushed!”

“Pickleball: The only time it’s acceptable to yell ‘Nice dink!’ in public.”

“My pickleball strategy? Hit it and hope.”

“Who needs therapy when you have pickleball?”

“Pickleball is like chess, but with way more sweating and trash talk.”

“The only thing quicker than my reflexes is my excuse for missing that shot.”

“Pickleball: Because who needs knee cartilage anyway?”

“In pickleball, age is just a number… a really important number when you’re playing against a 20-year-old.”

“I don’t always play pickleball… oh wait, yes I do.”

“Pickleball: Where ‘getting served’ is a good thing.”

“I’m not out of shape. I’m in pickleball shape!”

“The secret to my pickleball success? Avoiding any shot that requires running.”

“My pickleball game is like a fine wine – better with age, but still spills everywhere.”

“Life, liberty, and the pursuit of pickleball.”

“If pickleball were easy, it would be called tennis!”

“Dink responsibly, my friends.”

“Pickleball is just ping pong for people who like to run.”

“Never underestimate an old person with a pickleball paddle.”

“Pickleball: The only time ‘poaching’ is totally acceptable.”

“I came. I saw. I dinked.”

“Forget love – I’d rather fall into the kitchen in pickleball.”

“Don’t blame the paddle, blame the player.”

“I’ve got 99 problems, but a pickleball game fixes most of them.”

“The best kind of therapy? Pickleball and a cold drink after.”

“Pickleball: The fastest-growing sport… and the fastest way to make new friends (or enemies).”

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Dwayne (“The Rock”) Johnson

Dwayne Johnson was born on May 2, 1972, in Hayward, California, but grew up in Honolulu, Hawaii. As of April2 2023, Dwayne is 611 months (51 years) old.

He is of Samoan and African-American descent.

Johnson is fluent in both English and Samoan.

Johnson has a fear of spiders.

Johnson’s father, Rocky Johnson, was a professional wrestler, and his mother, Ata Maivia, is the daughter of professional wrestler Peter Maivia.

Before becoming a professional wrestler and actor, Johnson played football for the University of Miami, where he won a national championship in 1991.

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He once held the Guinness World Record for the most selfies taken in three minutes.
Johnson is a licensed pilot and owns a private jet.

Johnson’s first wrestling match was in 1996, and he went on to become one of the most successful wrestlers in history, winning multiple championships and headlining numerous pay-per-view events.

In 2001, Johnson made his acting debut in “The Mummy Returns,” and has since starred in numerous films, including the “Fast and Furious” franchise, “Jumanji,” and “Moana.”

As a child, he lived in New Zealand for a brief period of time.

His signature move, “The People’s Elbow,” was actually created as a joke during a backstage rehearsal with a fellow wrestler.

Johnson is a devout Christian and often posts about his faith on social media.

He has a passion for cars and has a collection that includes a Ferrari LaFerrari, Pagani Huayra, and a McLaren 650S.

Johnson was once arrested for theft at the age of 17, which led to him being cut from the University of Miami football team.

Johnson is known for his impressive physique and strict workout regimen, which includes daily weightlifting and cardio sessions.

In 2012, Johnson founded the Dwayne Johnson Rock Foundation, which is dedicated to improving the lives of at-risk and terminally ill children.

Johnson is an avid fisherman and often shares photos of his fishing trips on social media.

Johnson has a passion for cooking and is known for his homemade sushi.

Johnson is a big fan of Elvis Presley and has a collection of Elvis memorabilia.

Johnson has a strong interest in the military and often works with and supports military charities.

Johnson is a proud father of three daughters, Simone Alexandra, Jasmine Lia, and Tiana Gia.

Johnson is a self-proclaimed “extreme introvert” and enjoys spending time alone.

Johnson’s favorite hobby is playing video games, and he often streams himself playing online with fans.

Johnson’s nickname, “The Rock,” was given to him by WWE announcer Jim Ross, who was impressed by Johnson’s “rock solid” physique.

He has a love for country music and has even released a few country songs of his own.
Johnson was named one of Time Magazine’s 100 most influential people in the world in 2016 and 2019.
He was the highest-paid actor in 2020, earning a reported $87.5 million from various film and television projects.

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21 Reasons to Like Pickleball

This list assumes outdoor doubles pickleball, but many of these findings apply to indoor and singles play as well.

It’s a full-body exercise, involving upper body stretching, a bit of running, and quick-twitch movements. The best part is you may not realize you’re exercising.

Unlike many other sports or forms of exercise, the likelihood of injury is less.

Most pickleballers don’t take themselves too seriously. You’ll have many opportunities for amusement and laughter.

You can take pride in being in the vanguard of a relatively new sport.

Much like speed-dating, you may find yourself in the company of someone new, with whom you must cooperate right away.

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You have a new skill that you can proudly introduce to family, friends and co-workers.

Once you get to the level where you participate in kitchen rallies, it teaches patience.

This shows people of a great age that one is never too old to learn something now.

You get enough sunshine to manufacture some vitamin D.

For players of advanced years, you get to enjoy the company of others in your age range.

Pickleball develops fast reaction times. In doubles, you also expand your peripheral vision ability in keeping track of the position of your partner. The speed of pickleball kitchen rallies and the necessity of solid focus makes safer motorists of us all.

This sport imparts a ‘can-do’ attitude that overflows into other activities. For instance if you have to learn another language, or want to master a particularly difficult piece of music, you may subconsciously say, “Hey, if I can learn pickleball, this is going to be easy.”

Don’t underestimate the time between games on busy courts. Instead of being upset because you don’t get as much playing time, know that real magic can happen in between-game communication.

Pickleball teaches humility as one slowly learns how the three-part scoring works, and to stay out of the kitchen when hitting balls that haven’t bounced.

For instance, it is a great place for networking. Let’s say you are a gigging musician. Pretty soon, a large new group of people will meet you, like you, and hire you for their events.

For those who might otherwise be lonely, pickleball is the perfect solution. After playing with the same people for a while, deep friendships develop naturally.

What better way to meet people of the opposite sex if that is your desire?

Pickleball develops social skills. You might think that the older players would have learned everything they need to know by now. Being an older player myself, I can guarantee there’s still more to be learned.

You develop the skill of playing with people who you might normally not get a long. For instance Republicans and Democrats can enjoy the game together.

Pickleball is a great sport for children. The lightweight ball is harmless, the court is small, the kids learn cooperation and coping skills.

Unlike some sports, it doesn’t matter if the player is tall, short, light or heavy. All body types can be equally competitive.

And, it’s so much fun!

Please leave a comment below if you can think of other reasons to like pickleball.

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Monsour Bahrami




 

Monsour Bahrami is who I want to be when I grow up, except for in the sport of pickleball.



Monsour Bahrami was 67 years old when this was filmed. As a child growing up in Iran, he was intrigued with tennis at an early age. However, he was not allowed to have a real tennis racket until he was 13 years old. Until then, he made do with frying pans and other household items.

Due to extremist views that regarded tennis as a capitalist pursuit in Iran, Monsour had to move to France where he went broke trying to be a serious tennis competitor.

At one point while trying desperately to make ends meet, he bet his entire winnings from a recent tournament in a casino and lost everything.

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For a while, Mr. Bahrami was homeless in the streets of Paris until his reputation as a tennis trick shot expert and entertainer started to catch on.

He is also a champion backgammon player.



Your author has been working on some pickleball tricks. So far, I have put together a few serves:


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.

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Wham

A Work of Pickleball Fiction

Wham! A work of pickleball fiction

by Jeff Napier

Wham! My truck was just sitting at a red light, waiting to turn left. A drunken fool careened around the corner at a high rate of speed. Watching in horror, there was nothing I could do. He hit the bumper of my truck, spun around, and hit a parked car. Fortunately, no one was hurt, but that wrecked my lifelong plan.

Coming from the wrong side of the tracks and raised by a single mother, poverty was no stranger. Not only that, but my grandparents never had any money. I was going to break the cycle. In my last years of high school, I looked around for a job. What could a black girl without the means of a college education do? Because of details in my mother’s past and her remarkably low credit score, a student loan was not possible.

I could become a hairdresser but that really wasn’t my thing. How about a massage practitioner? Maybe get a job at a hotel? No, not for me. One day it occurred to me that driving a truck might be nice.

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That was it! That was something I could do and it would get me out of the projects. For those who don’t know, that’s the ghetto, the worst of the ghetto. I’d wanted to get way out. Like, what if I could get one of those jobs where I’m driving all over the country? How cool is that?

But there was a roadblock. Truck driving school. There was no money. Practically in tears for days, it hadn’t occurred to me that one didn’t have to start out with a big truck. What about driving for Uber? No, that wouldn’t work because I didn’t have a car. Maybe driving a delivery van for Amazon? Maybe after doing some sort of delivery work for a while, I would have the money to go to trucking school.

It turned out that getting a job with Amazon was ridiculously easy. It paid really well too, or at least for a girl like me, allowing me to start saving for driving school. It took me nearly a year, since my brother stole my savings for his drug habit about six months in.

Let me tell you, hopping in and out of a truck fifty times a day with packages is strenuous work. And people with their dogs. Some people just don’t control them! I still have a little scar on my thigh. But it was a job, and it fit a plan. I stuck with it.

Well, eventually I did learn to drive a big truck. My first real trucking job was a ten-wheeler dump truck. Even though it was just back and forth from a quarry to construction sites, it made me happy, and it was making good money.

In time, my dream job came along, commanding an 18-wheeler. I just loved double-clutching and floating the gears with that 13-speed Spicer transmission. Sitting high up over all the other traffic was a delight. And, what a kick, traveling in these United States of ours. The windshield was like a peaceful, never-ending movie. Even the rattly, throaty sounds of a big diesel engine was enjoyable. I was in heaven.

Until that drunk bent my bumper. You’d think that would be a minor thing, but here’s what happened. The company fired me instantly. It seems if you’ve been in an accident that involves two or more other vehicles, that’s their policy. It didn’t matter that the truck was completely stopped, the drunk hit me, then smashed into a parked car.

Worse, a couple of minutes after the crash, a cop showed up on the scene and gave me a ticket. Yes, a ticket for forgetting to turn on my emergency flashers. Can you believe it? OK, so the police officer was white, and I’m black. Well, I don’t want to think about that.

So, guess what? You can’t get hired as a trucker with a recent violation.

Days of unemployment turned into weeks and then into months. All the beautiful money in my savings account was gone. I had been so proud of the used Toyota Camry I recently purchased. but had to sell it. Sure, it was ten years old, but it was MY car!

My addict brother came through for me for once, and gave me some money for groceries. Then, he tried to convince me I could make some money by selling drugs. Yeah, right, like I’d ever do that. I’d rather literally die of poverty.

A food stamps application was in process. The rent was overdue so next was going to be moving back in with Mom. And here I thought I could get out of the projects. Well, the joke was on me and I started crying once again.

Checking the Internet daily for driving jobs, at that point, anything would do. Even if I could get the Amazon job back, that would have been a big relief.

On the worst day of my life, when it seemed every door had closed, I came across a funny little ad on Craigslist. Some guy wanted someone who was familiar with driving big vehicles, but could also cook and do ‘light domestic chores.’ Weird, eh?

In fact it was kind of spooky. What was up with that? Maybe it was about driving a truck full of household or kitchen product samples, and demonstrating them. I didn’t even want to think of other possibilities. If things had been different, I’d never answer such an ad.

The guy wrote back. Once he told me the details, I felt sick to my stomach. This guy was definitely a creep.

He said he had purchased a big diesel motorhome because he was some sort of pickleball player, whatever that was. He said he drove his motorhome once, immediately tore off the air horn under a low-hanging branch and that driving it scared him. He wanted someone to drive it so he could go to pickleball events all over the country. He wanted the driver to make him meals, keep the motorhome clean, wash his clothes, and so on. Sort of a rolling butler.

Yeah, so what else did he want? This was horrible. But at that point, any job was better than no job. So, I took the bus and walked a mile to his place in the hot afternoon sun for an interview.

There was fear about going into his house, but what could I do? I was thinking once I was inside, he could do anything. It was a big house, out in the Brighton neighborhood. He obviously had a dollar or two.

For a white guy, he was pretty good-looking. He did have a nice smile. Sparkly eyes, too. When emailing with him, it seemed like he might be some 50-year-old masher, but no, he was only one year older than me.

Well, we got to talking, and it wasn’t horrible. In fact, we talked over an hour, and I was actually starting to believe this guy could be OK. We walked back behind his house, and there was his motorhome. It was a big, tall, 40-foot long, shiny diesel beauty built on a Freightliner chassis. It was no tractor-trailer but I wouldn’t mind driving that thing, even if it did have an automatic transmission.

He told me a little about this pickleball stuff. He said it was like a cross between ping-pong and tennis. It didn’t sound very interesting to me, but you know how people are. They take an interest in something like tropical fish or rollerblading and they become obsessed.

As evening was approaching we worked out that I’d drive just him once, to a pickleball tournament near Chicago, a three-day trip starting two days from then. After making it clear that there was to be no funny business, I foolishly believed that he would be a gentleman. Maybe it’s because I needed the job so badly. Still, all I was promising was this one drive to Chicago.

I had to catch the last bus home. He got a funny look on his face, like, he understood my situation even though I hadn’t really told him the details. He said, “Why don’t you drive the motorhome to your place then bring it back the day after tomorrow?”

“Oh, I couldn’t.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet. Thinking he was going to give me his business card or something, he handed me four $100 bills. “Here, take the motorhome, get yourself a nice meal, then fill it with organic groceries tomorrow. Oh, and keep the change.”

We were standing in the motorhome at the time. Something went wrong. My eyes filled with tears, my knees felt weak, causing me to slump down onto a sofa, crying my eyes out. He sat next to me, tentatively put one arm around me and patiently waited until I could speak.

“I know, I know,” is all he said.

We did go to Chicago. The drive was pleasant. He sat in the passenger seat most of the time. We talked, but it was all pleasant surface stuff. Nothing deep. I was supposed to be doing his domestic chores, but on that drive, he made me sandwiches and seemed attentive to my every need. He did spend way too much time explaining pickleball to me. I didn’t get it. Why would anyone want to play something that was like tennis, but it wasn’t tennis?

On the way, we stopped at RV campgrounds. I had never done anything like that before, having to learn about hooking up the electricity, water hose, and all that. Oh, you should have seen the mess I made while disconnecting the sewer hose the next morning.

What about sleeping arrangements, you ask? True to his word, Jimmy was a real gentleman. He had a bedroom in the back of the rig. It had a full queen-size bed. He showed me how a sofa pulls out in the front, handed me some sheets, blankets and pillows out of a cabinet, then went into his back bedroom and closed the door.

When we arrived at the tournament, he introduced me to a bunch of other pickleball players as his driver. If any of them raised eyebrows, I didn’t see it. I returned to the motorhome and tidied up while he got ready for his first game.

Coming back out to watch, I didn’t really understand the game. It had a weird scoring system with three parts like “four-seven-two.” He and a partner lost badly, that much was clear. It didn’t seem to phase him, he was smiling as much after the game as before. He was likeable, but he was a weirdo.

That job lasted well over a year, until things changed which you’ll find out about in a minute. He found tournaments from east coast to west, although mostly sticking to Southern California that winter. Even though he wasn’t a very good player, he was so affable. Everyone loved Jim.

Details slowly became clear. It seems Jim had gone to college for software engineering. While still a student he built a small, social media website competing in a minor way with the likes of Facebook and Twitter. To everyone’s surprise, including his own, Meta, the company that includes Facebook, bought his little website for many millions of dollars. He retired at age 22. Except he didn’t really retire. He kind of brokers websites by other developers, and somehow continues to make more money.

In time, Jimmy got me out on a pickleball court. I was terrible at it, literally swinging and entirely missing the ball a few times. At one point I fell and scraped a knee. But we and a couple of other players were laughing, and carrying on, and having a good time. Pickleball wasn’t awful. In fact it was kind of fun, and wouldn’t you know, I started playing it regularly?

I became Jimmy’s doubles partner. Truth be told, I’m better at it than he is. He doesn’t seem to mind one bit. Among our many tournaments around the country, Jimmy also visited with coaches, and he became a better player, but still, he doesn’t have what you might call natural ability. But mostly, we play. We play just recreational games with other people, but also at the tournaments. We seldom win, but we always have fun.

I still love driving. He and I will sit up in the front of the motorhome just discussing anything and everything as the miles roll by. We’ll see mountains and fields, ponds and rivers, people here, and people there. When we get to our destinations, we’ll go to museums and tourist attractions. We’ll visit with pickleball players in their homes. It’s a wonderful life.

Now, I love pickleball as much as Jim does.

And, I love Jim as much as pickleball. More. We innocently kissed a few times during the past couple of months, and last Friday, that kissing really turned into something. For the first time, I slept in the bed in the back of the motorhome, not on the pull-out sofa.

Recent news:

We were married in February. We’ve been discussing the possibility of raising children on the road in our motorhome.

Discover many more articles about pickleball at OddPickleball.com


Jimmy’s motorhome


The author’s motorhome