After each of us had spent adequate time outside enjoying another completely awesome spring weather day, Ross and I decided to get sporty in front of our television. And by “sporty” I mean we busted out our Wiimotes and headed to the virtual tennis court.
I am total crap at real tennis (you know, the kind with a racket and a ball instead of a plastic stick and, well, nothing.) I can’t return a serve to save my life. Do you know how exhausting it is running to pick up the 27th green rubber asteroid that barely missed my face let alone made contact with my racket? I’m all for physical activity. But I’d rather actually go on a run than repeatedly run away from the snarky grin on the other side of the net.
If you’ve ever played “sports” on a Wii, you know that pretty much anyone can at least have mild success at knocking down bowling pins or swinging a golf club. My Grandpa even has a Wii. Yes. Lived through the Depression. Has a Wii.
Anyway, tennis can’t be much different, right? Right?
I lost four matches in a row. And after each debilitating defeat, I had to stare at a giant YOU LOSE accompanied by a Mii who I’m pretty sure was more disappointed in me than I was.
Of course this was all much after the mini-lecture Ross gave about the importance of being “strapped in” to my Wiimote.
I maintain that I only lost because the “super important” wrist strap prohibited me from achieving my full range of motion.
Safety never takes a vacation.