The Windiest Route

When Hurricane Katrina strikes Devon’s neighborhood, almost disqualifying him from the tennis fall cup, Devon has to train as hard as he can while his community rebuilds.

Thump, thank, clank! The sound of tennis rackets struck my ears as I served the ball to Coach Gary. I could see the sky cloudy, like a full fluffy blanket. What harm could a few clouds make? It was a sunny day and nothing could get in the way of me preparing for the national Fall Cup tournament in Florida. I hit the tennis ball and it went out of bounds. I hate it when I miss the court on a wide open play. About half an hour later the sun shone bright into my eyes. My coach and I have a little one-on -one, and I completely destroy him. My swings and blows are perfect. I love the feeling of winning. From the moment I first played tennis, I was naturally talented. Swinging and hitting felt like it was almost my job. I barely even sweat after that game. Nothing could bring me down. Or so I thought.

The next morning, on my way to practice, the wind started swirling. Everything around me started falling apart. Nearby, our favorite grocery store collapses on a couple cars. The noise and thumping hurts my brain. My heart starts to race rapidly.

My family and I were barely hanging on to each other. Will we survive? There wasn’t anything to protect us. In the distance I could see something. It looked like a lantern and a boat? The weird noise around me turned silent. Is this finally over? A lady in the boat guided us to a bridge, where everybody was waiting. By now, all I want to say is thank you to the lady. All is lost. Everything, gone. I sobbed profuse tears, collapsing into my parents arms. What will we do?

Two months later, we were sleeping in a cramped shelter with 273,000 people. By now, all the other kids in the country were getting ready to compete in the Fall Cup. But for me, my dream was gone.  I wandered around every day, looking for a friend to play with. When I saw little children playing tennis I could only see what I had lost. I walked past them afraid I would lose my love for tennis. I look at other sports the children played: baseball, basketball, soccer, and football. I looked at myself every time and shook my head. I can’t play these sports because I don’t want to restart everything again. All over.

The next day, my dad kept telling me to try tennis again. He woke me up and said, “Why don’t you play with the tennis guys today?” I felt my skin burning from the inside. I wasn’t mad, but I wasn’t happy.

“Why do I have to get up and play tennis? You know I won’t be able to compete for the fall cup,” I whined.

“Well why don’t you get some fresh air?” My mom said from behind me.

I felt the cool air pushing my hair back. 

“Fine! I will go to the tennis courts, but you should know that my feet are sore from all the walking yesterday.” I spoke confidently and strongly to my parents, but inside I was confused.

I walked up to the tennis courts, and saw that people my age were dominating everyone. I approached but my feet stopped walking. Flashbacks of my memories flooded through my mind. I fell to my knees. I sobbed into my hands thinking about the trees all falling down in the hurricane, and swooshes of the racket reminding me of the wind, wiping everything that stood in its path. I remembered everything before the Hurricane, my neighborhood. I was broken down inside.

After about 1 month, my family and I traveled all the way back down to our old house. We saw people rebuilding after what they had lost in the hurricane. I had the eagerness to rebuild our house too, but kept thinking about the past. We reached our old street, walked right up to our house. I didn’t actually think that the house would still be in one piece, but one wall remained up and strong. Just like how our family stayed strong. I noticed the soggy furniture and broken piece of glass. It was a mess.

In the bright fall morning, the sunshine hit me in the eyes. I was going to try tennis today at my old clinic. Before the hurricane, my coach never minded if I skipped a practice or two, but now every session I go, he pushes me past my limits, especially because he sees I’ve almost given up. The drive there was bumpy. The new roads, and dirt piled up in one place made the road uneven. The moment we got to the courts, my coach Gary was waiting. He told me we would just play one on one today. Just to see what I forgot after the disaster. I put my shoes on and had a good feeling about today. 

Coach told me to start with warmups like he always does. When we actually got to the tennis stuff, I was sweating like crazy. My shirt was sticky, and my body was stinky. 

Coach looked at me and said, “Well aren’t you out of shape? We’ll need to work on your endurance. Let's start with hitting the ball over the net.” The coach served me the ball and I whacked it with my racket. A tingling feeling struck my head. The next serve was right in front of me, but I just watched. The coach looked at me like I was a stranger and frowned. 

He walked up to me and said, “Something wrong? You look like you saw something creepy.”

I answered, “No coach. I just think of the hurricane every time I hear the tennis rackets hitting the ball.” He told me to take 10 deep breaths, and focus my eyes on the ball. He told me to never take my eyes off the ball. As the Fall Cup was just around the corner, I trained hard every day to win.

Just before the tournament, the whole neighborhood that was damaged came together to hold a rebuilding event. As several families came, we had a BBQ and worked on a house together. We cleaned up the area from all the debris, and I helped remove the trash. During that time I met my old neighbor. His name was Frank Gullivan and he was a retired tennis player.

He asked, “Are you going to that Fall tournament?”

I answered, “I’m not sure. I really don’t know if I’ll be as good as the other kids after the tragedy.”

Frank said, “There is a story about me, and how I retired. You might be still wondering why I’m in this old wheelchair, and I told you from an injury right? Well, back when I was playing, I was a shining star. I was projected to be the all time greatest. But in my first tournament, in a game I went for a ball far away from me. This was the championship too! I twisted my ankle and then tore my ACL too. When I tried to play tennis, the doctors said not to, but through temptation, I couldn’t resist and accidentally fell hard onto my spine while diving for the ball. I permanently lost my ability to walk and was disabled after I retired.”

I stared at him really shocked. If he has been through this plus a hurricane, I’m not the person who lost everything. I saw what I didn't see before. I wanted that trophy for Frank.

I arrived at the tournament in Florida. The massive building had a total of 12 tennis courts all private to the humongous crowd. I stepped right through the gateway and checked into the tournament when the wave of the crowd activates my butterflies in my stomach. My hand started shaking and for some reason, I couldn’t move well. I remembered to take ten deep breaths and that was what I did. I stepped onto the court to my first game. I could see almost every seat filled and my eyes caught the shiny scoreboard. I had to get a good start. When the game started, my opponent served me a stunning ball. I predicted it well though as I hit it back, but I lost focus from the sound of the rackets. The rackets do in fact sound like trees falling down, but I didn’t think of it in a negative way. This time I ran into the wrong spot and let my opponent have the first easy point. I took my ten deep breaths, locked in and received the serve. I hit it back at an accelerating speed of 24 mph. The opponent couldn’t track a single bit of it and I got my first point. In the crowd, at the glimpse of my eye, I saw Coach. He was cheering for me yelling, “Devon, Devon, Devon!” That was the moment I got my energy and went on to get every single point and destroyed my opponent.

The next round was the quarter finals. At this point every player is nationally ranked. As 8 people stood, I was the only underdog. This whole tournament was like the times those kids played at the shelter. They all had that little bright light in them, with hope in that dark, dark room. If I was the underdog, I would have to be like them by having some hope. My first opponent wasn’t as strong as I thought though as my natural senses told me he had a weak backhand. I targeted his backhand and went on to win again in a massive disappointment.

I had a short 30 minute break when I saw my next opponent, the number 3 ranked player, sit next to me and eat hot dogs. I thought to myself that he would definitely have cramps. And that was my advantage in the next match as I won another game in a nail biting moment where I had to hit with my back hand which was very weak. The only thing left was the finals. 

The finals was the hardest game yet. It was a close game with the number one ranked player. It was a back and forth battle, until finally my opponent hit with his signature move which knocked me off my toes. I wasn’t ready for that and I lost in a devastating way. I was just a millimeter away from winning. I sit down and put my head down. Then my opponent helped me get up, and told me to hang my head up high. I was the underdog and beat all the obstacles imaginable. 2nd place isn’t a good way to end a tournament, but I learned how to focus on my target, and push through my thoughts.

Epilogue

When I got home, I saw my parents standing next to a sign that said, “Rebuilt”. It felt like a new beginning for me, a restart. Frank came up to me and asked me how it went. 

“I battled hard but in the end, I only got second place,” I answered. I felt bad because I really wanted him to have that trophy.

He responded, “You know, not everything is about trophies. It is about the community you are in and doing your best at what you love. There might not be a special celebration, but you have friends and family to support your back. Keep your head up.”

The new house didn’t look or feel the same, but Frank was right…it was a good start to new part of my life. Even though I walked out of the tournament with no points in tennis, “love,” I gained a deeper love for my community and my favorite sport.