Ashe somehow served thunderbolts to the heavens and Oregon City switched leagues, out of the powerful old Wilco League and into the newly-established Timber Valley League. The Timber Valley League was comprised of rural Clackamas County timber and farming towns such as Molalla, Silverton, Estacada, Sandy and Sweet Home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Just like that, Oregon City was the\nbest team in the league. We started kicking ass and reveling in that\npower with a real swagger that we often made up on the spot because,\nwell, we were winning and previously had no idea how it felt. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I recall as if were yesterday, the\nindelible moving images from those away matches in the Timber Valley\nLeague against the logging and farm boys, total hicks and hayseeds.\nWhy they were on tennis teams is still a complete mystery to me. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There were the players who played in\nboots and Levi’s and Wranglers with cans of chew in their back\npockets and took subtle dips during changeovers. Some of them didn’t\nknow how to keep score. Some refused to hit backhands. They often\nused wooden rackets with little photographs of Pancho Segura and\nPancho Gonzales advertising their star 1950s status. There was the\nmatch at Molalla, in front of log yard, with Mollala students hanging\nout in pickups behind the fence, smoking and drinking beer, listening\nto Molly Hatchet (LOUD), watching their friends play, and threatening\nto punch out my teammates if the line calls didn’t improve. One\nplayer rode his horse to a match and tethered it to the fence like it\nwas a scene from a Western, had there been tennis matches in\nWesterns. I beat him handily and he road away into the sunset and\ndiesel fumes of the log yard. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am not making this up. Even then I\nknew it was preposterous and probably wasn’t happening anywhere in\nthe country except rural Clackamas County, the place where tennis met\nlogging!<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As for my team, the varsity tennis team\nof Oregon City High School, circa 1979-82, the Pioneers…we were a\nstrange crew indeed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was sneaking into a tennis club\nin the early mornings before school and using their courts, ball\nmachines and saunas and never getting caught. Who exactly set that\nup I do not remember. I think it might have been our coach, who was a\nmember, and left the back door open!<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This was the same coach who hailed from\nNebraska and played collegiality, who was well out of his\nintellectual depth with us but knew his tennis stuff and almost duked\nit out with Molalla’s coach one time over a stacked lineup. We wanted\nthat fight so bad. It would have fomented an all-out brawl. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was playing tennis during the\nspring in Western Oregon and having it rain during at least half our\nmatches. We were masters of tennis in the rain. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was calling lines in high school\ntennis, which meant players were their own referees and sometimes\nplayers cheated. I recall the time my doubles partner from my junior\nyear got into a fight over a line call. He jumped over the net and it\nwas on. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was our number one player who was\nobviously gay (clues: thespian, bringing his pressed uniform on a\nhanger and blow drying his hair before matches) and we never talked\nshit about him because he could beat every one of us 6-0, 6-0. We\nalso had homophobic teammates who would have kicked the hell out of\nany opposing player who insulted our number one. We were brothers. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was an African American player on\nour team, the only one in the league, with rapier-like slashing\nstrokes and a huge afro, who called his penis \u201cThe Snake\u201d and\nwould occasionally pull it out during his doubles matches and dangle\nit through the net during an opponent’s serve in hope of encouraging\na double fault. Not one opposing player ever said a thing. The Snake\nwas a cryptic legend around the league and probably still discussed\nin a log yard in Silverton if there is a log yard left in Silverton\nthat hasn’t become a wine complex. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I want to repeat that story: a black\nkid put his penis through the net during matches against schools like\nEstacada and Molalla. He not only charmed The Snake through, he\ndangled it, whipped it around from side to side and held\nconversations with it and the opposing players.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou like my Snake? Look at my Snake.\nGood Snake. Goin’ to win us a match today.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
How our coach never saw this is beyond\nme. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was playing a singles match where\nI was behind 0-6, 0-5, 0-40 and came all the way back and won. I’m\ntrying to do exactly the same thing in life right now. I did it once,\nI can do it again. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a quarter of the team stoned\nduring their matches (not me). \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was my girlfriend coming to\nmatches and bringing me orange juice and homemade cookies. She didn’t\nreally understand tennis but was there for me, like I was there for\nher at swim meets. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There were long bus rides with the\ngirls team without coaches because the coaches drove to the away\nmatches. No adults except the driver. There were plenty of things\nthat happened during those long unchaperoned rides through logging\nand farming country. The Snake was often on the loose. The Snake had\nhandlers, too. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tennis\nwas a grand time in high school. But it ended very badly for me at\nthe state tournament, in the first round. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
From\nmy senior year journal:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
5-17-82<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n There\nwas no fire, no emotion in me. Many times we had the chance to break\nthe match open but we couldn\u2019t\u2014or should I say we could have but\ndidn\u2019t, There is a difference. I feel so useless as far as tennis\nis concerned. The guys who play all their life are so good and take\nit so seriously that you\u2019re beaten before you go on the court. It\nis not a great feeling. Tennis is over. I\u2019ve played my last high\nschool match. I was sick of tennis but this was not the way I wanted\nto end. If only I had played well or put forth a decent effort then\nit would have been worth it. My final match total for four years\u2014\nincluding everything: 50 wins 23 losses (I\u2019m not sure if that is\naccurate but it is close).<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n I didn’t pick up a\nracket for several years after the tournament debacle. Much later I\nwould return to tennis as an instructor and coach and renew my love\nfor the game. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n (Note to reader:\nIt is my wish that the reader will support the idea that Pioneer\nPride<\/em> is a \u201cbook.\u201d It is also my wish that the reader\nconsider \u201cbuying\u201d the book as it rolls out in installments. A\npurchase supports an author and future literary endeavors by Nestucca\nSpit Press. To purchase, look to the right on the blog to use Paypal\nor contact me to make other arrangements.)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Ashe somehow served thunderbolts to the heavens and Oregon City switched leagues, out of the powerful old Wilco League and into the newly-established Timber Valley League. The Timber Valley League was comprised of rural Clackamas County timber and farming towns such as Molalla, Silverton, Estacada, Sandy and Sweet Home. Just like that, Oregon City was […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5849,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,942],"tags":[146],"class_list":["post-5925","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-meditations","category-oregon-city","tag-tennis","has-post-title","has-post-date","has-post-category","has-post-tag","has-post-comment","has-post-author",""],"builder_content":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5925","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5925"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5925\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5927,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5925\/revisions\/5927"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5849"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5925"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5925"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5925"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}