OUR PICKLEBALL IS ALL BLOGGERS GROUP FACEBOOK CONGREGATION IS CURRENTLY 48 FAITHFUL MEMBERS AND GROWING.

The 48 men and women who make up this "Facebook Page" are an extended family of the pickle ball community. Each person is uniquely special. I consider each and every member a “celebrity in pickle ball and in life.”

We often share our good times and bad times, and  seek solace from one and another, during  hard times. Figuratively, we are brothers & sisters united by a common “love for the game of pickle ball.“ For many in this group, pickleball is not just a recreational game.  It is much more. . .

CAVEAT: I apologize beforehand to those with strong religious beliefs. Some contents may seem sacrilegious and disrespectful. This was not my intention. I have tried to stay within the boundaries of propriety. However if you feel I have crossed the line, please forgive me. This was not an attempt to discredit or demean any religion or any of the faithful.

For many of us, pickleball has become a significant part of our every day lives. To equate pickle ball to “religion” would be a sacrilege. But many of us have become fanatically addicted to this sport and treat it like a form of religious devotion.  We do not worship a higher greater power. Our devotion is to the "game" …  "the game" and to the "game.

"Manifestations of traditional religious practices performed by parishioners gathered together in large marble cathedrals or small, wood plank, country churches, are somewhat comparable to those seen before, during and after a pickle ball game.

The faithful are seated in rows of pews, much like players paddles are alined in their order of play.

Scripted words are said on cue at the beginning, during and at the end  of the “service,“

Exaltation for good deeds are expressed with shouts of joy. Confessions for mistakes, are made with words asking for forgiveness.

Sometimes muffled swear words are used to denounce grievous sins, like hitting the serve or return of serve out of bounds or into the net . . . penance say 5 "Our Fathers," and 10 "Hail Mary's."   Colloquial humor?

At the end, all the participants gather together to thank each other with complementary remarks of "good game." The winners are those who arrive on time, ready to play or pray. The losers are those who leave before the final point, or the service has ended.

I have great reverence and respects for all peaceful religions, and those who practice those beliefs. I was raised by a devout Catholic family, and I was educated by dedicated educators who believed that all children can be taught learning, regardless of their mental state, and lack of self control.

These pious precious angels of humanity and humility, dressed in black robs, with tall sail-like white starched habits,  taught this young defiant, smart mouth kid to learn the necessary educational skills that passed him through the labyrinth  of higher education, leaving those hollowed halls with two sheep skins.

My nine year scholastic journey through the corridors of St. Dominic's in Hamilton, included two summer school sessions,  repeating algebra and English. The heavy handed tutelage of the Sisters of Charity, was not wasted on this fear stricken boy. Plain and simple, my motivation was fear and fear alone. Fear of my parents and fear of the Nuns, and the fear of going to hell if I did not pass in my school work.

Most  school days, involved after school overtime, learning the composition and grammar of writing and reading in English and Latin.

My favorite after school time was spent diagraming compound sentences. Adverbs were always a problem for me. I would use the wrong downward line slant.

Punishment  detention was spent cleaning black boards and "powder puffing" erasers.  A long wood pointer stood at the ready, dare I slack off.

Attending a public high school,  and then all through college, was somewhat easy for me, because I already knew most of what was being taught. Since I knew how to write, and I liked to write, I gained the admiration of my English Professors Even when it came to Geography and History, I was well tutored in those studies. The worst writing assignment was a 2500 word essay on the pros and cons of euthanasia

Many heartfelt thanks to those "Women of God " in long, black robes with heavily starched sail-like white habits  that that gave up their lives to educated a brat like me . . . Sister Angela, Sister Genevieve, Sister Georgina, Sister Eleanor, Sister Mary Theresa, and Mother Superior Sister Mary Elizabeth. I think Sister Angela (God Rest Her Soul) was a former welter-weight boxer before she became a Num.

WOW!  Did I digress! Sorry about that! Sometimes you just get on a roll and have to let the words print themselves on the paper.

To end this conglomeration of chatty calmer, I thank all who endured this trek down the memory lane of  my long past youth. The hour grows late for aging eyes who seek only rest, and not open to once again see the wonders of a new day.

If there is anything specific you want me to post please let me know and I will do my best to provide you with helpful information and a little entertainment.  I welcome your comments, Pro or Con.  If you have some good pickleball related stuff you can post it here on this page. Please, no baby phots, pet pics or hero shots.