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Remembering a 44-year tennis journey. A reflection by Bill Simons At 35 I knew it was time to bring my free-form lifestyle in for a landing. There was value in being an idealistic kid. Working for civil rights in Mississippi in 1965 touched my soul and changed my life. Living on beaches was idyllic. Meditating before dawn atop a Himalayan mountain brought serenity. And here's a newsflash: living life with one hand waving free is pretty joyous. Downward mobility does have its upsides. But there's a hefty price to pay. By 1980 I was off the grid, adrift and living in a tiny garret. My windowless attic room was as hot as my prospects were cool. What was I to do? I hadn’t even made it to the first rung of the corporate ladder and my invitation to play at Wimbledon somehow got lost in the mail. But I knew I knew two things - I was determined not to be bored and tennis was the sport I loved. So I convinced my buddy to give me a freelance assignment to write an article called, "In Search of California's Finest Tennis Courts." In an LA tennis shop, I picked up a magazine, Tennis Talk, and in a flash I had an earth-shattering, life-altering revelation. "Jeez," I told myself, "I can do better than this." On that warm, fateful June afternoon, Inside Tennis was born. CLICK HERE TO CONTINUE READING |
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