Wimbledon

I grew up playing tennis. Although it was not formally competitive, my parents, sibling, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. always took the sport seriously. A regular summer activity as a child was to play tennis in public courts. We'd be so obsessive that after the sun set we'd play well into the night. This was normally fine because the courts were illuminated by flood lights that were lit until 11PM PST. I know the exact time the lights went out because on more than one occasion, we found ourselves in the midst of serious nail-biting court combat that only ceased when the lights shut off. Our parents would then yell at all of us kids to search and collect all of the tennis balls so difficult to detect on those dark summer nights - thank goodness for their bright green hue!

The grand slams were always watched and recorded on VHS tapes as we followed the careers of our favourite tennis stars - Andre Agassi, Pete Sampras, Michael Chang, Steffi Graph, Monica Seles and Martina Hingis. My dad used to get up at all hours of the night to watch the elite match ups live.

My brother even had a court name so during play he preferred to be called the Rad Roo.

Our family has a lifetime of stories about tennis play, competition, fights, racket throwing and confrontations with anyone who thinks they can stay on a public court longer than the allotted 20 minutes. I'll hold all these memories very close to my heart and am thankful everyday that my dad is such a tennis freak. I really miss him today because his little girl walked around the Wimbledon grounds and watched a game on Centre Court.

It's moments like these that I can barely contain my emotion. I thought I'd be writing about my amazing day at Wimbledon (and let me confirm, it was unreal), but instead I find myself lamenting about my family, how crazy they are and how lucky I am.