I remember the first time someone on the pickleball court said, “You are so competitive!” I looked around to see who she was talking to.
“I’m talking to you,” she said, pointing at me.
I was astonished. This was far from how I saw myself. I always wanted to win something other than one of the 10 “honorary fifth place” ribbons in the horse shows of my childhood, but it never occurred to me to ask my riding instructors what I could do better.
And I did take tennis lessons for a short time as a teenager, but I was mainly in it for the cute tennis pro, and I never even learned how to serve.
“I’m just not competitive,” I would say when people asked why I didn’t play a sport in school. As a tall teen, basketball would have been a natural choice — but the real reason was lack of confidence. I believed sports ability was innate, and that I had none.
Then, at the age of 58, I discovered pickleball, and everything I thought I knew about “innate sports ability” and my “lack of competitiveness” was turned on its head. By the time that person on the court opposite me called me competitive, I’d been playing almost every day of the week for a year. And then I went on to compete in my first tournament.
Pickleball is having a moment, and I am among the sport’s biggest fans. Invented in 1965 by three dads on Bainbridge Island, Washington — Joel Pritchard, Bill Bell and Barney McCallum — it was an attempt to find a novel activity for their kids, who were bored during summer vacation.
By 1990, pickleball had caught on in all 50 states, and last year, the Sports and Fitness Industry Association reported that it has been the fastest-growing sport in America for three years running, currently with 8.9 million players (a number that's growing every day).