The Pickleball Curmudgeon

The Pickleball Curmudgeon

A juicy elevated ball came directly into my wheelhouse and I gleefully readied my signature forehand roll shot and then angled the ball toward the left side of the court. The ball just caught the line. I politely turned on my heel and headed back to the baseline so that my opponent could not see my smile of satisfaction.

That's when I heard the word "OUT!" waft from the other side of the net and into my ear.

I stopped in my tracks and turned. "I thought the ball caught the line," I said mildly, whereupon my opponent returned my gaze, spun on his heel and lifted his arm and index finger to the sky as he strode back to serve. 

His call, I said to myself, wishing desperately that I was playing with Corky who cheerfully plays every ball as an "in" ball regardless of what side of the net he's on.

Partner and I were up by 3.  I could see the finish line. Two more points and we would beat the boys. Partner stepped up and hit a gorgeous inside-out shot. The ball landed smack dab on the sideline, catching both opps guessing wrong and moving away from the ball.  I tapped partner’s paddle in quiet congratulation and that's when the arm and finger of my opponent shot skyward again.

"You know that if the ball lands on the line, it's in, right?" I asked a little less mildly.

"Yes, but do you actually know the ball touched the line?" my opp asked with ersatz patience. "It's a very simple mathematical calculation.”

I was struck dumb, so he continued. “The sideline is two inches wide and the diameter of a regulation ball is 2.87 inches. Because the ball is a sphere, the ball touches the surface at only one point.  So the ball will be out when there is a mere .565 of an inch or more of white (i.e. the line) showing between the ball and the court.

I rolled my eyes. "Something tells me you’ve had this conversation before. Maybe you should cut to the chase," I said.

"Well," he continued, sensing victory, "if there is more than a half inch or so of white showing, the ball is out."

Hah, I had him now. "Kudos, on the math, Einstein.  Bad news, though. The rules have changed. Now the rulebook says you must see a space between the line and the ball before you call it out."

"Show me this rule" he said.

"Hey! are you guys going to play or what? We're waiting and you're jawing. Play ball!" That, from the sideline. And rightly so.

Of course, it was Einstein's call, and I saw no yield in him whatsoever, so I trotted back to the baseline.

The next time my ball hit the sideline and Einstein's finger shot up, my shoulders sagged. I turned to Einstein's partner with a silent query and what to my wondering ears should I hear but, "Yeah, I think that one caught the line."

I love pickleball. Really, I do.