I can walk. I can get out of my very low Porsche, and stand up, and after a few steps, walk, seemingly, normally.
Tennis was how I hoped to improve my love life. Before I ever had one. When I was about 9 years old. In Chicago. At the park district. For 50 cents, or maybe a dollar. The public park gave you instructions and one new tennis ball, I think. Taught you how to keep your eye on the ball, bend your knee, switch your grip, and behave!
It was later on, after having learned the basics and seeing JANE RUSSELL, and discovering that in high school, the letterman's sweater seemed to be the key that unlocked the door to the cheerleader's heart, and realizing that I couldn't make it in the he-man sports, like football and basketball, I put my energies into that.... for Chicago, sissy sport, tennis. I got the letter. The team got the city championship. 32 years later, I got the cheerleader!
I guess it worked out, after all! Lin, with a pretty mediocre, old, tennis player, Capitola, CA, August, 2006 (photo by Gil Sharon)