I have a confession to make, I cheated on pickleball with tennis.

Now I know what you’re thinking, and please don’t exit this article. Pickleball is my first love. I promise. Our love affair has been nothing but fruitful. 

But I had to try something different, shake things up a little bit. And I played tennis. 

I don’t come from a tennis background, but my friend insisted I take a swing just for the fun of it. She swore that it would enhance my pickleball game - more power, stronger drives, bla bla bla. 

As a complete newbie to tennis, I had no idea what I was getting into. I borrowed my mom’s old racket that I discovered was much too heavy for my puny pickleball arms. Then, we hit the court. 

When we walked over with our bags filled with sleeves of soft bouncy tennis balls, I felt like one of those tennis purists that despises pickleball. And my heart ached a little bit watching the crowded pickleball players rotating around the courts and calling 0-0-2. 

In this neighborhood, there were two perfectly pristine and wonderfully empty tennis courts. And of course all eight of the pickleball courts were packed. At least I didn’t have to wait around to get court time, free of an elaborate paddle system and pickleball bros who swear they’re good enough to go pro if they didn’t have that finance job. 

There’s definitely one major benefit of being a tennis player now. All the courts are empty.

But, I got some looks from the pickleball players. Oh, she’s one of those… a tennis player. I wanted to yell through the fence, “I don’t hate pickleball. I swear, I’m one of you!”

Looking at the massive tennis court in front of me felt unbelievably intimidating. This court is HUGE compared to a pickleball court, with a heck of a lot more running involved. And don't even ask me about scoring. I did not love it. 

Hitting an overhead serve felt so wrong. In my bones, I know this is illegal. And I couldn’t believe how bouncy the tennis ball was. I’m used to quick reaction times at the net and suddenly I find myself having to slow down and wait for the ball to bounce. 

I had the most backwards experience. Most people, especially high level pickleball players, played tennis before switching to pickleball. They have naturally beautiful drives and quickly adapt to the soft game at the net. But here I am, experiencing the total opposite. 

I had an epiphany: Am I a pure pickleball player like Anna Leigh Waters and Dylan Frazier and all these young Junior PPA kids who are growing up only knowing a paddle instead of a racket?

Goodness, maybe I should’ve gone pro. 

The next morning, I woke up feeling the strangest muscles in my right arm. I truly have never felt that muscle before, and now I feel like I can’t move it. I suddenly understand why Carlos Alcaraz’s arms are literally different sizes.

But alas, I missed the culture so much. My tennis outing resulted in complete isolation. No one hopped on the court with us to join in. No making small talk and meeting new people and making new friends. The culture of pickleball is my favorite part of the sport, and I was sorely missing that in my short tennis excursion. 

I might play again if I get desperate enough for a free court, but pickleball will always be my first love. Excuse me while I return my racket and pick up my paddle again.