I still don’t plan to do this all the time, but man o man yesterday’s match was epic. I met Dave again, spur-of-the-moment style. He won the first game 15-8, and I’m thinking “oh well, not sneaking up on him this time.” He won the second game 15-12. Okie-doke, so I’m losing the best 2 out of 3 proposition (again – I don’t think I’ve ever taken 2 of 3 from someone).
Third game, I take control early, but I’ve done that before. I was up 7-1, I think, and was still up 12-8. Then he rattles off 5 brutally easy points. I score to make it 13 each. We play that you have to win by 2, although this isn’t actually “technically” correct. Whatever, we do it every time so it’s fair for us. I don’t score. He scores, now it’s 14-13. When you lose a lot, like I do :), this has a familiar feeling of “well, I played a good game.” This time, I fight off the sense of finality and break his serve. I score, and it’s 14 each.
Interestingly, for about the last 10 points our play has noticeably improved. But now, at 14 each it becomes super clear that we’ve both dug down. He doesn’t want to give up a game to the guy he owns. I don’t want an 0-fer. So fine. I serve 14 each, no joy. He serves 14 each. No joy. I score. I hit a serve that I am *sure* is an ace (rare for me, either to think I have or actually to do it) but he digs it out. THREE times I hit shots that are usually a winner in our games only to see him scoot them back out. He sends me from the front wall to the back wall twice, when usually once is enough to shut the door on a rally.
I’ll be damned if I didn’t finally scoot one along the left wall that he couldn’t get to. 16-14. I won one. I nearly collapse. :p I was also 2 pounds lighter the next morning; no shock there, I’m still thirsty 18 hours later.