This was a weird one. My partner experimented with what she called a “demon back hand spin of a serve.” The only problem for her was that she telegraphed it with more warning than a big red flashing foghorn that beeps right in your face.
Guess what’s coming? OH HAI, Luv.
My response was to TWAT the ball with a forehand smash into the opposite corner where her back was turned. Time and time and time again. Which all led to me racing to a 2-0 lead.
Time for a change of plan, time to ditch the demon back hand. Oh hang on. I’m not so good at this. It didn’t help that the rain started to drizzle down, messing up my pristine looks. My OCD woes led to a 3-2 defeat.
She may not have the killer serve, but I also don’t have the killer instinct to close off a game.
