Gavin Is My Truth Guru
This season I started teaching a four-year-old boy named Gavin.
A private lesson for an entire hour is too long, but that’s what we have been doing.
It was supposed to be a half hour session for him, and then a half hour lesson for his mom, who I have been playing with for a few years. I never agreed to an hour lesson; it is complete insanity on so many levels. A mysterious ankle injury, however, has kept mom off the court, and away from the tennis club. Grandpa Bobby, a brilliant lawyer-mediator, is on duty, and proves himself an excellent ball picker-upper, doing so on a weekly basis.
Somehow, I feel sandbagged though. Was this all a ploy from the start for me to do an hour lesson with Gavin? Is the universe trying to teach me another lesson?
After the first session in September, I had a complete meltdown. I remember telling my colleague after the lesson: “I am never doing that again, it was water-boarding torture for every minute!”
That is not my standpoint anymore. I have matured; 20 weeks’ worth to be exact. We are now 20 lessons into our journey, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I am learning a lot from Gavin, and I consider him my truth guru.
Recently, Gavin turned five-years-old, and since he is a grown-up kid now (his words), he will always be wearing his running-fast-shoes (again, his words).
Five-year-old kids are always right, naturally. Gavin is always right.
After his recent hilarious comment, I told him: “If you are a grown-up-kid, I must be a dinosaur!”
He disagreed. “No, he said, you are not a dinosaur, you are a Tennis Pro”.
Of course he was right, so I told him so.
“I know”, he said confidently, “I know more than my grandpa!”
I couldn’t wait for the next truth-bomb he was about to drop.
“Well, he teaches me all the stuff he knows, and I already know all my stuff, so that combined, I know more than him!”
“That makes sense”, I replied.
You can’t argue with logic.
