A few weeks ago, after striking a cold-ball zinger, the surface of my vintage, hollow-core Kadima paddle cracked.
The next thing I knew, a package arrived at our doorstep with 6 replacement paddles. “Maybe we can have a tournament, and I got 2 sets of Pro Kadima paddles, I think we’ll have better ball control, and they’ll be less noisy.” What can I say, Carey digs the Kadima lifestyle. It’s cheaper than golf and less committal, so I’m not complaining.
[Click to enlarge to see flying balls.]
The new paddles were a dream come true. No hollow sounding WONK tearing through the park, inciting half-curious, half-annoyed looks from young families, sunbathers, and pervert trolls with $10,000 worth of camera equipment pretending to “take pictures of ducks.”
First day out with the new gear—133 consecutive whacks. Carey was loose from a Dixie cup or three of cheap Chardonnay and I had a screamingly full bladder, so the odds were against us. But! We were unstoppable, reaping the benefits of a major benchmark in sporting equipment—like I’d just stepped into my first pair of parabolic skis.
Next week, whacks ∞.