I’m thinking about another lifetime ago, when I would happily walk 30 blocks to South Street Seaport (NYC minus several decades) for the best giant dill-pickle-out-of-a-barrel . . . munching gleefully while fending off seagulls amidst the serenade of lapping water, flapping sails and randomly clanging bells . . .
but no . . . I digress . . . what I’m actually talking about is . . . wait for it . . .
” PICKLEBALL . . . !!! . . .
You heard me . . . I kid you not . . . turns out . . .
this . . . is . . . big . . .
really . . .
How could I not know about this?
It has it’s own Association with leagues – lots and lots of leagues . . . and a self proclaimed “Official hub” . . . and a 50 year following beloved and nurtured by the RV community . . .
and now there are Pickleball courts in every state and it is enjoyed by young and old alike . . .
How often does that happen . . . a game for one and all . . . HOORAY!
Who knows, I just may have to harness the old competitive spirit and try it ‘cos of the name alone . . . just saying . . .
Ps: there’s several stories as to the origin of the name, but apparently there was a dog named pickles . . . love it . . .
