The Master Runs Around

Fall had come to the province and the play had moved to the interior courts.  The stone walls were cold to the touch and if the wind was wrong, would be covered with dew in the morning.  The outdoor courts would see rain and frost and the colored leaves from the stately trees that surrounded the courts.  The apple crop was good this year and the monks and masters enjoyed them, the pies, the sauces, and looked forward to some cider later in the season.

The Master was taking a morning walk.  He was working on a small, four volume book of instruction about the bend of the right knee while hitting the inside out backhand.  He had some additional research that he was planning.

His stroll took him past the upper level courts where the students were sparring.  After a casual glance...

"Stop!" cried the Master.  And all of the students, in their seventh year of training, stopped and remained motionless on the court.  After years of instruction, holding position to allow a Master to instruct was automatic.  The ball rattled through the court to fetch up against the back wall.

"Po, by the scales of the Fire Serpant, what are you doing?" asked the Master.

"I've just returned a serve and I am heading to the kitchen line," answered Po, a bright student, but with still a few rough edges.  Oh, he could hold his own against the other students, but was not able to perform near a master's level.

"Then why have you not reached the kitchen line?  Are you slow of foot today, would you like to run some laps around the monastery?" asked the Master.

"I was heading there, but you called for us to stop."

"Had you made a good service return, you would already be at the kitchen line.  Where was your error Po?"

"Hmm, I thought I hit a good ball and then moved up.  I don't see the error Master."

"You were a step late and half a step left, Po.  And why was that?  Because you returned the serve with your forehand!"

"Yes, I did, but..."

"No, but!" interrupted the Master, "By running around to hit the forehand, you surrendered a full step to your opponents!  You also distorted your position on the court, so that the path to the kitchen line was longer than had you hit the proper backhand shot.  Is that not clear Po?"

"I see that now, Master.  While it seems harmless to run around the shot, it warps the play."

"Yes and your partner should move to cover the gap you've created by being in the run around position and also not being at the kitchen line in time.  He must move a quarter step over to correct for this.  That creates an alley for the opponents to attack.  You can get away with this sloppy play, Po, with sloppy opponents, but against good players you've given up several percent points of advantage.  As a lesson, Po, got to the library and report to us tomorrow on Master Yan's book, The Lack of a Backhand Shot and the Inevitable Fall of Civilization.  Look at volume six, chapters 34, 35, and 40, for the pertinent information."

"Yes Master, I look forward to enlightenment."  Po returned to his game and Master was off for an afternoon tea.  The students again admired the knowledge of the Master and hoped to one day share it.  Alas the library, devoted to pickleball theory, housed thousands of volumes.  Not all students would have the opportunity to read them.  Each year students were released from the monastery to play on tour.  These were the students who lacked the vital essence that created a Master.  While they had was enough to play professional pickleball, but not enough to extend the world's understanding of the game.  The truly great players stayed at the monastery, studied, thought, played, and wrote.

(With only kind thoughts to those who like the run around, Editor of the Monastery.)