"Mom, I'm quitting tennis."

So, when I was about 6 years old I made my mom's dreams come true...almost. And then subsequently shot them to hell with one selfish act.

My mom is obsessed with tennis.
Or was...

When I was in first grade, I began taking tennis lessons at this club my friends went to because they told me the instructors did raffles after each lesson and you could win prizes. Although I never won those damn raffles (that had to be rigged because honestly one girl should not be allowed to win 20 times in a row and always get to take home the coolest headbands and rackets and tennis paraphernalia!!!),  I managed to get better at my mom's favorite sport.

During this time she took me to some pro tennis tournament in Palm Springs with one of her friends and it was awesome, even though I probably slept through half of it. It was there that I chose my favorite tennis player, Michael Chang. I based this decision loosly on the fact that he was the winner of one of the only games I stayed awake all the way through.

 I've always wondered what happened to that guy...

Anyways, eventually it was time for this annual serving tournament at one of the nearby high schools. A tournament where all these kids went and competed for their parents, who were trying to justify the ridiculous amount of money on lessons they had spent in the last year, and tried not to embarrass themselves. At 6-years old I made it all the way up to the 5th grade level and got like 4th or something (#humblebrag).
Now picture an empty tennis court.
Insert a mother on cloud nine. 
Insert dreams of being a tennis-manager-mother (momager) for the best tennis player of all time. 
Insert me and Michael Chang poppin' bottles at Wimbledon after we both won. 
Insert photo-op of me, my mom and Michael Chang.

Because I was a little asshole fickle, I would always get over the sports my parents loved watching me play relatively quickly (seriously LOVED). With my dad it was softball. And of course it was just weeks after the serving tournament I noticed she was getting a bit to into it and I must quit before the pressure was really on.

I know Mike... I know.

Present Day...

Just before I left for the country/minuscule island of Malta to begin grad school, I started playing the ukulele/mimicking the chords my boyfriend would show me. The uke was my parting gift and my little piece of home I lugged through 4 cities, 3 plane rides, and a number of airports where random travelers probably wondered to themselves why this frustrated American girl had a little guitar in her purse.

Two days ago, while I was hunting down some uke songs to learn and impress my boyfriend with, I came across a song only Jesus himself could have placed in front of me.

The artist: Dent May and His Magnificent Ukulele
The song: "God Loves You Michael Chang"

Really?!? I know it sounds too good to be true and none of you reading this know who the eff Michael Chang is, but this song is magical and I'm now subjecting you all to a musical montage of my childhood tennis idol and almost best friend.

P.s. Sorry Mom.




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