- Bounce the ball a few times on the baseline. Hold it against your racquet. Toss it high above your head. If you do everything right, you can swing your racquet up and have the ball just screaming down the court. That’s the serve.
- When you were little, Roger Federer was winning Grand Slams left and right. One year, when you were in elementary school, he took the U.S. and Australian Opens, and Wimbledon too.
- Always look at the ball.
- Your grandfather and I started playing tennis after the War. There were old, rundown courts a block away from the Americans resettled us. They’re still there, I believe.
- Plant your feet, and swing.
- Then there was Rafa Nadal, the Spaniard who took Roland Garros all throughout your childhood, always a few weeks before your birthday.
- Your mother and I played lots of tennis before you played, when you were little. Your grandfather looked after you those mornings while we were out on the courts for hours, in the sun. She was more of a baseline player, like Andre Agassi, while I went for the volleys, like Pete Sampras. Like them, we stopped when the oughts came and, along with it, age.
- Oh, it had been a long journey, from Saigon to here. These days, Vietnam is not the same, and neither is tennis.
- Finally, there was Novak Djokovic, who, by the time you graduated, started winning just about everything.
- Do you remember? You never really got the hang of the serve back then, in high school, so you stopped playing.
- Don’t ever stop looking at the ball.
- When you left for college, I could never get your mother to go out to the courts with me again. You know we hardly talk much anymore, have very little left in common. People can be like that over time. You come together, and then you grow apart. Things change. You understand.
- Look, I strung your racquet for you, just in time for you to visit us.
- Breathe.
- Everyone’s retiring, even Andy Murray now. I don’t even know who’s still on the men’s tour.
- After your mother stopped playing, I ended up buying a ball machine instead. It’s a lot different than hitting with someone else.
- Even after not playing since high school, you can still hit just as well as you did back then. Still, it’s just that serve of yours.
- Of course I still love your mother.
- No matter what, you always have to look at the ball.
- I don’t think I’ll go ever back to Vietnam. Everything is just so different now. There aren’t that many tennis courts over there, anyway. What’s the point?
- You’ll finally get your serve in someday, but when you finally do, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep up with you anymore. Still, we can play together for the rest of the summer, until you leave us for good.
- But before then, do you think you could get your mother to play again, too?
