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“This is America:a brilliant diversity spread like stars, like a thousand points of light, in a broad and peaceful sky.”
- George H W Bush, 41st POTUS
America was once called a melting pot. And, truly it was.
When I regard the group with whom I gather to play tennis on a regular basis, it seems a microcosm of that melting pot.
In no particular order:
One of the players is from Greece. It is largely due to his kindness that we play at all. He grew up tending fields and is able to subsist on little water. I encourage him to hydrate (this above all). He sprinkles his conversation from time to time with tidbits from his homeland. One of his brothers still lives there.
Another is a Hawaiian Japanese. He and I go back a long way. We attended the same college, although he was a year ahead of me. I knew whom he was. We reconnected decades later on the tennis court. In addition to other paraphernalia, he carries a harmonica in his capacious tennis bag, with which he occasionally regales an unwitting audience.
Then we have Iranians. Not one, but two.
One’s grey moustache sometimes quivers when he strikes a ball at the net (at which he is proficient) and he wears something extra on one leg. He carries extra balls with him, the…
