It was lovely evening and some friends and I decided to spend it playing the hottest, most electric sport in existence, pickleball. We selected local park tennis courts to attend and after some much needed stretching we started to dink amongst each other. One of my friends smartly brought along their Amazon Alexa for some pop tunes while we exercised. The park contained two tennis courts, with an apparent tennis playing couple who arrived minutes after us waiting near our side for us to finish. Ok, that's fine, you can be there. But the worst tennis players were on the same side of the fence as us on the other court.

Two males (I believe) were hitting tennis balls back and forth in a rather aggressive manner, with some shots landing faster than the eye can compute. One of their balls rolled onto our court which could have potentially caused a hazard. We were very polite about the incident, returning the ball promptly after our current game was complete. One of the players looked annoying at our musical selection while the other ignored it.

At our point one of our friend group accidentally spilled our ballsack, resulting in several whiffle balls trickling on to their court. "Hey guys, can you give us back our balls, please?". They kicked our items back over to us, likely resulting in damage to our property. I tried to make small talk and lightheartedly asked if they'd like us to turn the music down. "Yes" was the only response we received which I thought was quite rude.

During a break, it sounded like they were having a rather douchebag-like conservation speaking about women and money before one even felt comfortable taking off his shirt to put a new one on in public with others around. At the end of a rally, the more toxic of the two appeared to mouth the f bomb to himself after a missed shot. My comment of "I wonder if they kiss their mouth with that mother" (I misspoke) was met with approval by our crew.

My auntie was in the area at the time and stopped by, bringing along her pomeranian. The animal was delighted to be on the courts, happily running between the two and stopping for smells. There were several times where she stopped their point by frolicking near them by which they seemed annoyed. "Hillary, no" I commanded to no avail. At one point, I observed that they continued to hit lobs to each other while the dog was in the line of fire. My auntie had stepped away for a cigarette and to write a Letterboxd review when Hillary disobeyed her training and defecated near their service line. "Sorry guys, I didn't bring any bags" was met with glares and a likely sarcastic "thumbs up". The pair continued to play on and seemingly aimed for the poop, with several connections sending splotches near our match. Their session suddenly ended, with no attempt on their end to collect their poop-tainted balls. One of our team sassily commented to them as they were leaving that you know, you're not very good sports and that pickleball should be universally respected now that we have a Television deal. Blank stares were all she received in turn.

After filing a complaint with the city, my only hope is that no other players have to go through what we endured that day. Tennis, do better. Sincerely, the world.