What People Think About Your Game is None of Your Business

I few months ago while traveling for work, I arranged to play some pickleball in the evening through a friend I knew in the area. He and I had played against one another a few times in tournaments so he found a couple of players to join us who were close to our ability. I was excited to play.

The traffic between my hotel and the courts was brutal so I ended up arriving about 20 minutes late. I felt bad and apologized repeatedly, but I could tell the three of them were a little aggravated. I didn’t blame them.

I knew my friend had told the group that my game was decent and that we would have some great games, so I decided the only way to improve the situation was to play well … really well. If I was as advertised – even better than advertised – everyone would forget about my tardiness and be glad they came out to play. That was the plan.

Unfortunately, though, I was terrible all night.

I did my best and played hard, but I never felt comfortable and never found a groove. I missed shots I routinely make and felt clumsy in my movement and positioning. I needed to be good that night, or so I told myself, but the more I felt that need, the worse I played. As my game struggled, I wondered what the others were thinking: “He’s supposed to be good?” “We waited around for this?” By the time the night ended, I was demoralized and more than a little embarrassed.

I had arranged to come back the next night for open play, but as I drove to the courts, I felt anxious. Why had I been so bad the night before? Was I going to lay an egg again? Was I going to leave the courts embarrassed and demoralized for a second night in a row?

As I sat in traffic (again), I thought about my pickleball game. I thought about the reasons I took up the game five years earlier – just months after suffering a heart attack. I thought about how grateful I was to have found pickleball, how much I enjoyed playing, and how much healthier I was because of it. I thought about all the hard work I had put in to qualify for Nationals, and how much I was looking forward to a week in Palm Springs with my family in November.

It occurred to me in that instant that MY pickleball game had nothing to do with anyone else. I took up the game for no one other than me, I played for no one other than me, and I tried to improve for on one other than me. As I made my way to the courts, I felt strangely liberated because suddenly I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought about my game. It was MY game, not theirs. If I laid another egg, so be it. If the others on the court thought I was lousy, so be it. What mattered was what I took from the experience, and I wasn’t about to let a bad outing the night before or the potential for another one dampen my love for the game. What others thought about my pickleball game was none of my business. What was 100% my business was what I thought about my game – and I was happy with where I was and how far I had come – even though I was fully capable of playing lousy pickleball on occasion.

It turned out I played the best pickleball that night that I’d played in over a year.

It’s easy when we’re struggling with our games to focus on how others view us – particularly our doubles partner. But when we do, our play usually suffers. If you play pickleball with any regularity, you’ll have occasions when your game is off. There’s no avoiding it and it’s no fun. But remember the next time that happens that it simply doesn’t matter what anyone thinks about how you play. Play with the game you have at that particular moment, good or bad, and let it go. It's your game and you're doing your best. Nothing, and no one else, matters.