If I could spend one day with a living athlete, I would meet Pete Sampras in Ocean City, New Jersey. The best tennis player and the best beach would keep me busy and bustling. Pete and I would congregate at the corner of the boardwalk outside the Beach Club Hotel. I would shake his hand and tell him how much I loved watching him ascend into one of the greatest tennis players of all time. I’d remark how tan he looked and ask if he would join me for breakfast in the heart of Ocean City. My fantasy breakfast at the Varsity Inn would have me seated across from one of my idols with a thick, tall menu in my hands. Pete’s steady fingers and strong shoulders would select eggs over easy with home fried potatoes. I would tell him how as a child I remember reading his favorite food was mashed potatoes. He would get a kick out of my selective memory and probably respond by saying he didn’t remember the interview where he revealed the creamed vegetable as his top food. The friendly waiter would ask us if we were ready to order and Pete would let me go first. “Mushroom omelet, wheat toast and coffee please,” I would begin. Sampras would select second, with his eggs and potatoes, complete with orange juice. A breakfast of a champion I conclude.
After breakfast, Pete and I would return to the 13th Street Boardwalk where there is a bike rental shop. Pete would challenge me to a road race and I would gladly accept. My blue bicycle would keep pace with Pete’s much larger black bike. He would compliment me on my speed and competitive desire. I would tell him where I learned how to be a competitor and flatter the heck out of him. After our road excursion, I would lead the way back to the boardwalk. The wooden planked track is such a fun place to ride, especially on a summer morning. We reach the end of the boardwalk shops and stop at Wonderland Pier. Although the place isn’t open, Pete has some connections and we enter the arcade and amusement area. First up is the skeeball section. Pete can’t seem to figure out how to play this game well, which surprises me. After I beat him four straight games, by scoring more points, he concedes. Sampras suggests we try riding the Monorail train. I take him up on the offer, realizing this is the perfect opportunity to sit next to Pete and interrogate him. I ask questions about how he handled the media as a teenager, how he felt after defeating Alex Corretja in the famous 1996 U.S. Open five-setter, and how he is dealing with being a father. Pete, always one to reveal little about himself, reluctantly tells all to me because I am such a curious fanatic. To divert attention elsewhere, Sampras digs out some coins and steers me over to the photo booth. A picture with the famous Pete will be priceless. Sampras’ smile fills his fine face and we look like long-lost cousins when the snapshots are printed.
A spin on the merry-go-round, ride on the hot air balloons and plunge on the log ride find us back at the Wonderland gates. The gynormous Gillian gazes down on us gamers. The colorful and familiar entranceway makes me smile. I am feeling so happy I decide I want some ice cream for lunch. Pete and I head over to Kohr Brothers for soft-serve delights. Pete is a vanilla guy and I have to agree with him. Next to the ice cream stand is a mini-golf place just waiting for two tennis players to try. Golf is something Pete has taken up since retirement and he swears he will beat me. I am not surprised when he does. My golf game needs tweaking and Pete’s pointers are helpful. I decide I want more hints and help, this time in the game we both enjoy most.
Pete and I venture out to the grass tennis courts downtown. They are vacant so we have the place to ourselves. The sun is shining down directly above our heads and we both put on a baseball cap before we begin. Sampras and I begin warming up on the court and the surrealistic moment is practically perfect. Here I am in the middle of summer playing tennis on the beach. The smell of sea salt, the soft spoken Sampras, the sweet taste of sugar still in my mouth, the smoothness of the strokes as I swing and the sweat streaming from my skull all set up the seamless summer day.
Parting points: Turning back the clock to the early 90’s today: “Wonderwall” by Oasis bring back the greatest memories.
After breakfast, Pete and I would return to the 13th Street Boardwalk where there is a bike rental shop. Pete would challenge me to a road race and I would gladly accept. My blue bicycle would keep pace with Pete’s much larger black bike. He would compliment me on my speed and competitive desire. I would tell him where I learned how to be a competitor and flatter the heck out of him. After our road excursion, I would lead the way back to the boardwalk. The wooden planked track is such a fun place to ride, especially on a summer morning. We reach the end of the boardwalk shops and stop at Wonderland Pier. Although the place isn’t open, Pete has some connections and we enter the arcade and amusement area. First up is the skeeball section. Pete can’t seem to figure out how to play this game well, which surprises me. After I beat him four straight games, by scoring more points, he concedes. Sampras suggests we try riding the Monorail train. I take him up on the offer, realizing this is the perfect opportunity to sit next to Pete and interrogate him. I ask questions about how he handled the media as a teenager, how he felt after defeating Alex Corretja in the famous 1996 U.S. Open five-setter, and how he is dealing with being a father. Pete, always one to reveal little about himself, reluctantly tells all to me because I am such a curious fanatic. To divert attention elsewhere, Sampras digs out some coins and steers me over to the photo booth. A picture with the famous Pete will be priceless. Sampras’ smile fills his fine face and we look like long-lost cousins when the snapshots are printed.
A spin on the merry-go-round, ride on the hot air balloons and plunge on the log ride find us back at the Wonderland gates. The gynormous Gillian gazes down on us gamers. The colorful and familiar entranceway makes me smile. I am feeling so happy I decide I want some ice cream for lunch. Pete and I head over to Kohr Brothers for soft-serve delights. Pete is a vanilla guy and I have to agree with him. Next to the ice cream stand is a mini-golf place just waiting for two tennis players to try. Golf is something Pete has taken up since retirement and he swears he will beat me. I am not surprised when he does. My golf game needs tweaking and Pete’s pointers are helpful. I decide I want more hints and help, this time in the game we both enjoy most.
Pete and I venture out to the grass tennis courts downtown. They are vacant so we have the place to ourselves. The sun is shining down directly above our heads and we both put on a baseball cap before we begin. Sampras and I begin warming up on the court and the surrealistic moment is practically perfect. Here I am in the middle of summer playing tennis on the beach. The smell of sea salt, the soft spoken Sampras, the sweet taste of sugar still in my mouth, the smoothness of the strokes as I swing and the sweat streaming from my skull all set up the seamless summer day.
Parting points: Turning back the clock to the early 90’s today: “Wonderwall” by Oasis bring back the greatest memories.
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