I've written before about the joys and sorrows -- mostly sorrows -- of being a good enough tennis player to fully understand how bad you actually are. So I had mixed feelings this morning when I got word from my USTA 3.5 league team that I -- along with most of my teammates -- had been bumped up to the 4.0 level.
On the one hand, glee at achieving something I didn't expect, particularly since the league play that got me "promoted" came earlier this year when I was in no way playing what I would term good tennis. I'm playing much better right now (not having those extra 30 lbs. obviously helps my movement), but of course I'll take what's given to me.
On the other hand, terror at the thought of moving out of the competitive 3.5 league, in which lurked multitudes of sandbaggers who rightfully should have been playing 4.0 or 4.5, and into the actual 4.0 league where the sandbaggers are in reality 4.5 to 5.0. I have friends who are far stronger players than I who regularly get their ass handed to them in 4.0. I may have to ready myself to have my own ass served, and often.
Oh, stop giggling.