Yesterday I was convinced I was trapped in the world’s longest pickleball game. We were playing well, hitting dinks, smashing overheads, and somehow… still stuck at 6-4. Every point felt like an eternity. I kept looking around like, “Did someone hit pause on this game?”
Finally, my partner leans over and says, “We’re actually up 9-4… you just keep calling it wrong.”
So not only did I extend the game unnecessarily, but I robbed us of the glorious momentum of a true comeback story. The best part? When we finally won, I celebrated like we had just battled through a 30-point marathon. My partner just shook their head.
The moment when I don't call out score before serving is when my partner can tell, I do not know what the score is.
Lesson learned: the hardest skill in pickleball might not be the forehand roll—it’s keeping score.
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