The other day I received a free “2009 Bad Kitties: When Good Kitties Go Bad” calendar with an order of packing supplies for my online business. The calendar shows kitties in various states of repose (trouble-making poses) for each month, gnawing or chewing on something or each other, staring at fish or birds with not-so-innocent intentions, or tearing something apart. They exude palpable angst and exuberant energy in each photograph…cute, yet mischievous portents of their future selves.

Kitties, Kittens and Cats…girls, young ladies and older women seem to have a fascination with felines. I’ve never been much of a cat person myself, though I do like kitties and the energy, innocence and playfulness they introduce into any situation. Of course, they become less playful, bite harder and hiss louder with age as they learn to adapt to the unflinching rules of the world around them.

Interestingly, three of the most influential women in my life (my 7 year old daughter, my 26 year old girlfriend and my 42 year old soon to be Ex-Wife) all obsess about kitties (each to a greater degree depending on their youth) and I can’t help but wonder if a parallel exists between “When Good Kitties Go Bad” and “When Young Girls Mature”. This comes to mind on the day I give the innocuous “2009 Bad Kitties: When Good Kitties Go Bad” calendar to my daughter and I reaffirm my desire to protect her innocence, playfulness and vitality and the joy she has brought into my life.

When asked why I play tennis now, after nearly thirteen years of not touching a racket, I say flippantly, that I needed a reason to quit smoking.  In truth, tennis has become a microcosm of my life, an effort to improve myself, my mental toughness, my technical acumen, my physical prowess, and my stress release, all in the controlled environment of a 78 foot by 27 foot court, governed by simple rules dating back to 1873.

As a teenager, when I first took up the sport, I played because I enjoyed the individualistic aspect of the game.  At that time my game mostly relied on the vigor and strength of my youth and an average all around technical game.  I won or lost as a result of my own efforts and I could not blame others for my poor performance.   If my game sucked, then only I alone could improve it. Accountability, what a concept, it has dominated my character throughout my life…more on this later.

With age, I have grown to appreciate the more subtle aspects of the game and have taken a piece-meal approach to improving my technique: the driving forehand, the first serve, the second serve, the volley, the driving backhand, the slice forehand, the slice backhand, the lob, and my net game.  I can draw parallels between each of these aspects of the game and events in my life.  I believe each improvement in my game brings insight into how I might improve the other more pressing activities in my life.

So, I am not a team player…I am an artist who prefers to control his own destiny, paint his own picture, play his own game, whether I’m participating in a sport or in the broader stage of life. And so, I have chosen tennis as my “life sport” and will seek to improve my game and apply those lessons to my life with every loss I suffer.