One of my dreams since I started playing tennis competitively was to make it to Nationals. I knew, deep down, the odds of making it to Nationals were impossibly long. Your team not only has to win your local league, but then also win Regionals and then Sectionals, beating out teams from all over the Eastern Section of the United States. It's a tough, almost impossible road, that also needs a bit of luck on your side.
In September, I was asked to join a tri-level team with women that compete at three levels of play: 3.5, 4.0 and 4.5, all doubles. I knew the women on this team and frankly, had tennis crushes on most of them. They were the superstars of Buffalo tennis and their asking me to compete with them was a moment for me. I was in tennis heaven.
Our team won Buffalo and advanced to Syracuse for Regionals. In Syracuse, we beat out Syracuse and Rochester to advance to Sectionals. We were off to Albany to compete in Sectionals.
Sectionals was a crazy, competitive, stressful scene. There were a ton of spectators and I felt a lot of pressure. In the end, our team ended up in second place, losing by only one court. ONE court. We were all very disappointed. (Disappointed may not be the right word. Devastated may be a better description. I know I, personally, had to retreat to my hotel room to drown my sorrows in a bag of peanut m and ms and a slutty romance novel.)
Fast forward one month later. I get an email at 8 am on a Saturday morning. The team that won Sectionals, that beat us by only one court? They opted out of their spot for Nationals. Which means?! We got their spot.
I read the email quickly and screamed. I mean, literally, screamed. And then I burst into tears. Chris was convinced someone had died or something awful had happened. But when I told him, yelling and crying and totally hysterical that I was going to Nationals, that my dream was coming true, well, he even got a little misty eyed too.
And that is how I got to go to Indian Wells, California to play tennis. Not just play tennis, but to play competitive tennis in an amateur tournament along side the professionals playing at the BNP Paribas Open. Not only did we get to play in our tournament, but our entry included tickets to all the pro matches too. It was a crazy opportunity for a tennis addict like me.
But first I had to get there. Our team all booked tickets and hotel rooms, jumping at the once in a lifetime chance just handed to us. And then, on the day we were supposed to leave: Wednesday, March 12th, a blizzard hit the East Coast.
Yes. Really.
My flight was canceled. All of our flights were canceled. But we stayed positive, because we didn't play our first match until Friday. We all rebooked for Thursday flights.
My rebook for Thursday wasn't until 2 pm, but I opted to get to the airport early and fly standby for the first flight out. And when I say early, I mean EARLY. My poor husband got me to the airport by 4:30 am for standby at the first flight leaving at 6:30. Did I mention it was his birthday? Because yes. He spent his birthday morning taking me to the airport.
I didn't get the standby on the first flight, but one of my team mates did. I also didn't get the standby on the second flight of the day, but another one of my team mates did. As I spent some quality time in the rocking chairs in the airport terminal, I also waved off my mom (heading to Florida on another flight) and more teammates. Through all of this, I remained positive because I knew I had my confirmed seat on the 2 pm flight.
I was good. I would get to California.
Not so fast.
The time arrives for my 2 pm flight. I go to the gate and check in. After a few minutes, an attendant comes off the plane shaking his head. And then the announcement. The flight has been delayed because of a mechanical problem. They aren't sure what the problem is yet. But they will investigate.
I race to the customer service desk and am assured I still have hours to make my connection. I will make it.
But then hours pass. And then the dreaded announcement again. They are flying in a part from another airport. It may take hours upon hours. We are advised to rebook. In a flash, all of my positive thoughts disappear and I burst into tears. I am so hysterical that the guys at the front of the very long customer service line grab me and let me go ahead of them. After back and forth with the airline rep, I am told there is nothing they can do for me.
Nothing.
Frantic, I call Chris's cell phone. He doesn't pick up the first time I call, or the tenth. Because it's his birthday. And all the poor man wanted for his birthday was an hour or so at the gym, alone. He didn't count on his crazy wife needing an intervention while she was at the airport. I finally get ahold of Chris and he, in his calm, I will take care of this, reassured demeanor gets us on a conference call with an airline rep. We go back and forth over my options, while I hysterically tell my husband that if I don't make it to California, I don't think I will ever get over this disappointment. Ever. The poor man.
Finally, the only option left to me is to rent a car, drive to Cleveland, check into a hotel and catch a 6 am flight. The 6 am flight would get me to California by 10 am, plenty of time for my 1 pm match.
And so, after fourteen or so hours in the airport, I rented a car. (Crying the whole time I did the paperwork with the Hertz rep.) I drove three hours, exhausted. My phone died on the ride, so I got lost. I just barely managed to return the car and find my way to the hotel. I looked so tired and out of it when I checked in at the hotel, that the manager offered to have someone walk me to my room. (I probably should have accepted. I was barely able to find the elevator.)
I slept for maybe three hours, got up and caught the 6 am flight, through Texas. Got to Texas and... YES! Flight delay. The flight was delayed almost an hour, pushing me very close to my match time. I arrived in California with just enough time for me to rent a car and drive straight to the tennis gardens. I literally changed into my tennis clothes in the parking lot and jumped right into two tennis matches.
I honestly think I was a little delirious.
After the matches, I had probably been awake for over 24 hours straight. But instead of going back to the hotel, I opted to stay with my teammates, drink a few margaritas and watch the pro matches. Best decision ever. It was an amazing experience.
It wasn't easy to get there, but after all was said and done, it was worth it. All of it. It was truly the experience of a life time. We played on courts next to professional players. We waited for our matches to be called while we watched the pros practice or warm up. We played against people from all of the country and had just a spectacular time. It felt surreal. The entire experience was just so much more than I could have imagined.
And now, I want to go back. This time without the blizzard.
