"I ordered some pink pickleballs, because I like yours so much," I told my brother Bill today. We were in the middle of a match at the time.
"We can play with the pink one," he said. "I have it with me."
"That's okay," I answered. "I don't even know what made me think of that."
He missed his next serve and cussed. "I need to stay focused!" he said. "I was thinking about the pink pickleball and a whole story I was going to tell you." He shook his head.
I knew exactly what he meant. I, too, have found how easy it is to lose focus on the game! I will see someone I think I know, or notice something on the next court, or wonder what I'm going to make for dinner, and with my mind off the task at hand? I will make a dumb, unforced error.
"I just don't remember the same problem when I was younger," I laughed and then noted, "Yet another reason this game is good for us: it forces us to be present!"
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