So, everyone around here keeps talking about Ivory Ridge, right? Like it’s some sort of holy grail for tennis folks. I’d been hearing the name bounced around for ages, so I figured, alright, let’s see what this big deal is all about. Or maybe I just really needed to hit some balls and it was an option.
First off, getting a court. That was its own little adventure. You gotta go online, navigate through their system, pick a time, pay the fee. I miss the old days, you know? Just call up, “Hey, got a court free?” Done. But no, progress, I guess. Anyway, I wrestled with the website and finally got a slot booked for a Saturday morning.
I showed up, and the place, well, it’s a tennis facility. Lots of green courts all lined up, a pro shop, people looking like they mean business in their tennis whites. Nothing too surprising. I found my court, dumped my bag, and took a look around. Sun was already starting to beat down pretty good.
My buddy, Dave, met me there. We started just rallying, trying to get loose. Man, those first ten minutes, I felt like I was swinging a plank of wood. My timing was all off, balls spraying left and right. Dave’s pretty used to it, thankfully. He just kept grooving, sending them back.
I told myself I’d really try to focus on my forehand consistency. That’s been my project for, like, the last year. It’s funny, in my head, I’m picturing Federer, but what comes out is… well, not Federer. I tried to:
- Watch the ball all the way to the strings.
- Follow through properly, over my shoulder.
- Keep my feet moving, not get stuck.
Some shots felt great, real clean. Others, I shanked right into the side fence. That’s tennis for ya.
We played a couple of sets. Or tried to. Lost track of the score after a while, mostly ’cause I was donating so many points with unforced errors. Dave was playing pretty solid, hitting his spots. I got a few good serves in, though. That’s always a nice feeling, when you toss it up just right and really connect.
You see all sorts at a place like Ivory Ridge. Some folks are super intense, grunting on every shot, got all the latest gear. Then you got people just out for a casual hit. I always find that interesting. It’s the same game, but everyone comes at it different. I guess I’m somewhere in the “try hard but don’t take it too seriously” camp.
After about two hours, we were pretty cooked. Shirts soaked, legs feeling it. We called it a day, packed up our stuff. Grabbed a cold drink from my bag, best feeling ever.
So, Ivory Ridge. Yeah, it’s a decent place to play tennis. Courts are in good shape, nets are taut. You can definitely get a good game in. Is it some magical tennis paradise? Nah, it’s a tennis club. It does what it’s supposed to do. I’ll probably go back, especially when I forget the hassle of online booking. At the end of the day, you just wanna hit the ball, right?