So, I was watching Bernarda Pera play the other day. Can’t remember which tournament exactly, one of those clay court ones I think. She’s got that big lefty forehand, you know? Really goes for it.
But what struck me, watching her, was the inconsistency sometimes. One moment, she’s hitting winners left and right, looking unbeatable. The next, errors creep in, points slip away. It’s frustrating to watch, honestly. Made me think, you know?
It reminded me of this gardening thing I tried last summer. Total disaster, basically. Started off all enthusiastic. Got the seeds, the soil, read up on everything. Felt like I had a solid plan. First few sprouts came up? Felt amazing. Like I was some kind of plant whisperer.
Then, bam. Unforced errors everywhere. Forgot to water one week, overwatered the next. Then some weird bugs showed up that weren’t in any of the books I read. Suddenly, my little green patch looked kinda sad and droopy. One step forward, two steps back. Sound familiar?
Dealing with the Ups and Downs
It was annoying. Just like watching Pera battle through a tough set, losing points she probably feels she shouldn’t have. You see the potential, the good intentions, but the execution just isn’t always there. My garden felt exactly like that.
- One day a tomato looks like it might actually ripen.
- The next day, something’s eaten half of it.
- My hopes went up and down like crazy.
It really makes you question things. You put in the effort, you try your best, but sometimes nature, or just plain old mistakes, get in the way. Just like in tennis, I guess. Pera might have a bad day on court. My cucumbers decided they just didn’t want to grow past a certain size.
In the end, I mostly gave up on the vegetable patch. Yeah, all that digging and weeding. Poof. Let the weeds take over. I told myself I didn’t have the time, or maybe the soil was bad. Felt easier than admitting I just wasn’t consistent enough, couldn’t handle the setbacks.
Watching Pera fight through those tough matches, even when she’s making errors, makes me think though. Sometimes she turns it around, finds that groove again. Sometimes she doesn’t win. But she’s back out there for the next tournament, still swinging. Maybe I should have stuck with the garden longer. Unlike my abandoned veggies, she gets another match, another chance. I just got… well, more weeds. Different kind of battle, I suppose.
