We have two pickleball matters to report on. The first is this TikTok or Reel (look at us, finding it on both and catering to your preferences), which does a very good job of making fun of pickleball, something the importance of which we’re about to stress. The second is that Paddleball Paul is wreaking havoc on the Central Park pickleball universe.*
(*Handing out a lot of flyers that aren’t accomplishing what he wants them to.)
From the New York Times:
His name is Paul Owens (or maybe Paul Rubenfarb or Paul Rosenberg); he claims to be 97, and his cryptic business card reads “Let’s go dancing,” while listing a variety of genres like “doo-wop” and “1950s red-light mambo.”
…(His) life seems to revolve around arriving at the North Meadow Recreation Center as early as 7 a.m., well before Parks Department employees clock in for the day, and just as the earliest pickleball players begin trickling in. That is when he stakes his claim in the middle of the courts and, in a sense, holds the pickleballers hostage. He contends they are taking away space originally devoted to the proletarian sport of handball, historically favored by teenagers of color. (He himself is an ex-handball player, but like many old-timers, he has switched to paddleball, which is more forgiving on the knees.)
To anyone who asks why he insists on ruining the fun, he hands out a flyer in the style of a ransom note that slams “pickleball’s well-off aggressive elite.”
I don’t think Paul and I are coming at this from the same angle, but the enemy of my enemy is my friend, and I like a guy who 1) uses an alliterative nickname and 2) hands out vitriol-filled flyers. Please don’t quote the last half of that sentence. That seems like it’s going to make me some very oddly-named friends I don’t actually want to interact with ever in my life.
What Paul gets right is that pickleball is much lamer than a certain flavor of its devotees claim. It’s fun—don’t get me wrong, pickleball is fun, I enjoy playing pickleball—but it’s one of those things where if you stop treating it like a game and start treating it like a sport, you either need to take a step back or you need to accept society ruthlessly making fun of you. Chris Traeger would love pickleball. There is nothing wrong with that, I’m happy for him, but Chris Traeger is the butt of jokes for a reason. Chris Traeger is a weird, weird guy.
This is also a little bit about competition. If you’re good enough at pickleball to treat it in a sporting manner, you should be playing tennis. Otherwise, you should work on playing with a beer in your hand (at the very least, a La Croix, please).
The best way to play pickleball is as follows:
- Do not initiate pickleball. Agree to play if invited, manipulate your way into someone else suggesting it if you really want to play, but do not initiate the pickleball yourself.
- When you arrive, make clear that you bought the cheapest paddles available at either the local sporting goods store or Amazon. Better yet, let one of your paddles be a little bit broken. Flat part starting to rattle, coming loose from the handle? Perfect. This also helps start the excuse-making.
- Bring a cooler full of libations of both the alcoholic and non-alcoholic variety, but make sure none are Gatorade or still water. If you want water, bring it yourself in your water bottle. Do not give the impression that this is a situation where you think hydration is important.
- Ask how to play. Always ask how to play. If the people hosting get the rules wrong, play by what they said.
- Offer everyone a drink. Make them say no. Put a drink in your hand yourself. You can set it down for high-leverage points, but you should play more points than not with a beverage in your non-paddle hand.
- Play hard, play competitively, do whatever you need to do to satisfy your own urge for triumph. But. If you find yourself making an especially sharp movement (or, God forbid it’s necessary, diving), yell comically loudly while you do it. Just a big, guttural scream. Make the people think it’s a joke.
- If anyone accuses you of not trying, emphasize that you are trying. You want them to think you’re not trying to try. You do not want them to think that you’re trying to not try.
- Don’t make any excuses. Verbally, I mean. Try to let your opponent notice that your paddle is a little broken, but don’t point it out to them outright. Your goal is to delegitimize any source of pride they can find from beating you without directly attacking it. Let it crumble from the inside. Make them question their accomplishment, or, if you win, make them feel really frustrated with this thing they’re taking too seriously.
- Ask for a clarification on the rules again. Or just say the scoring wrong. And definitely give away a point or two on balls close to the line. Again, make sure your opponent knows without you having to let them know.
- Do not, under any circumstances, wear something that anyone could think you purchased especially for pickleball.
- Talk once or twice about how it feels a lot like ping pong, but again, not in direct fashion. Just offer it as a given. Example: This is great. We used to play so much ping-pong in my grandma’s basement when we went out there for Christmas. Do not offer that it is similar to tennis. Don’t fight people on this if they suggest it (this gets us back to the “not trying to try” thing, an aura of indifference is the goal), but don’t offer it yourself. Oh, tennis? Yeah good point, I guess it is kind of similar to that.
- Remember, internally (you’re being nice to everyone there, remember that, all of your demeaning of them must be so passive aggressive in nature that they aren’t sure if you’re even being mean), that this is an activity designed for the elderly and P.E. class. You have the power here. They can’t make you treat this as a sport.
Good luck out there, and if you happen to see Paddleball Paul, tell him to keep the faith. Fidget spinners were popular once too.
