Adventures in an Ordinary Life

FLIGHT OR FIGHT AT THE HUNTSMAN

Hank Palmer

24 October 2014

Wheres Russ?
In the john. Puking. As usual.
Bill Russell, legendary Boston Celtics center, 11-time National Basketball Association
champion, barfed before every game. Nerves. Performance pressure. Fear of failure.
John Wayne: Aw shucks, Pardner. You scared? Me too. Saddle up anyway.
I dont throw up before competing. But scared? Oh yes! A hollow cylinder extends skyward
from my throat right through the brain. Emptying out the contents. Eliminating rational thinking.
Clearing away normal functioning. Allowing panic to take over. I want to run away. Disappear. Find
a peaceful, safe spot. This persists during warmups. In football, it stops with the first collision. In
pickleball, with the first serve. Abruptly, the flight response reverses to fight.
October 2014. Im competing at the Huntsman World Senior Games in St. George, Utah,
along with 10,835 other athletes from all 50 states plus 21 countries. Men and women, age 50 and
older, in five-year age-groups. Twenty-seven sports, from archery to volleyball. Twenty-eighth year.
Well organized, with 2,500 volunteers.
Im among 530 pickleball players from 19 states. We use a miniature, tennis-like court. Two or
four players. Solid paddles and hollow, perforated, plastic balls. Matches are best of three games to
11 points or one game to 15. Win by 2. Score only when serving.
The Fresno area is well represented. Thirteen players. Nine medal winners. Fifteen total
medals. Lola Benneyan (2 gold medals, 1 silver), Jim Wainscott (gold, bronze), John Browning
(silver, bronze), Ron Yoshimoto (silver, bronze), Frank Benneyan (silver), Greg Siomiak (silver), Don
Miyasaki (silver), Ed Darden (bronze), Jan Darden, Ken Engle, Jeff McFall, and Pat Pope. Amazingly,
the 75-79 age-group mens doubles final features four Fresnans: Jim and me vs. Frank and John.
The most crucial factor in doubles is choosing the right partner. I have two marvelous ones.
Jim Wainscott is a tall, stately, 82-year-old Fresnan who hoped to compete in the 80-84 age-group
this year. I talk him into playing with the youngsters in the 75-79s. The prior week, he competes in
the 80-84 tennis competition: eight matches in singles and doubles, winning a gold medal. The final
singles match is 7-5, 7-6, 2 hours long. Jim is tuckered out by the time we start pickleball.
My mixed doubles partner is Jean Kiker from Florida. Petite. Lovely. Grew up in England
faint but still recognizable accent. Played tennis at Wimbledon as a junior. Socially adept. Ferocious
competitor. Highly focused. Wins three gold medals and one silver here this year. Knee brace,
damaged shoulder, burned leg but still performs on court at a high level.

Adventures in an Ordinary Life

FLIGHT OR FIGHT AT THE HUNTSMAN
Hank Palmer 24 October 2014

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Our matches are not grim, tedious affairs. Keen competition, high energy, but laughter as well.
One mens doubles opponent sports outlandishly bright, green/yellow/orange/red/blue sneakers.
I comment, Are those legal? Looks like you spilled some paint, a la Jackson Pollack.
He replies, Hey! Theyre great in the fog and at night.
Me, Yeah, but very distracting. Easily worth 2 or 3 points a game.
Him, So? Try not to think about em.
In the mixed doubles final, Jean smacks a vicious volley directly into Pauline Averys center of
gravity. Paulines eyes widen. She struggles to remain upright.
Shocked, Jean immediately apologizes, Oh, Pauline! Are you OK? Im so very, very sorry!
As Pauline recovers, I graciously add, She may be sorry, but Im not. We need that point.
Sixteen matches. Many closely contested. Some come-from-behind scrambles. High caliber
players. Nice people. Excellent referees.
Except for one deadly serious female referee, determined to show whos in charge.
An opponent tells a joke. Lady ref scowls menacingly. I advise, OK, Jeff, no more jokes!
She does not crack a smile.
We change sides after the first game. I throw her the ball. Her Majesty angrily tosses it back,
I dont want the ball! You are playing! We switch sides for the third game. As I walk around the net,
she loudly orders, Throw me that ball! I meekly underhand it to her, with no comment, suppressing
a chuckle.
Thanks to awesome partners Jean and Jim, the revelations by Bill Russell and John Wayne,
and grace, I win two gold medals. Then retire to a peaceful, safe spot and begin to breathe normally.