It was all smiles, nerves, rallies, and plenty of pickleball action at Seacourt Sports Club this weekend, as our pickleball community welcomed the team from Hiltingbury Pickleball Club for a friendly competition.
With some experienced players alongside several newcomers taking part in their very first competition, the courts were buzzing with excitement. The matches were competitive, challenging and, most importantly, great fun. Hiltingbury had the edge on the day and took the overall victory, but Seacourt certainly gave them a run for their money.
There were some fantastic performances from our newer pickleball players, with Helen, Sharon, Debbie, Wouter, Binky and Kenny all stepping up and embracing the challenge.
Helen summed up the spirit of the day perfectly. Having only picked up a paddle less than a year ago, and never having played a racket sport before, she admitted to being terrified before her first match. Eight games later, she may not have recorded a win, but she produced one glorious rally against some of Hiltingbury’s strongest players that had the whole bench on its feet cheering.
Her words capture exactly what makes Seacourt so special: it’s not just about winning. It’s about having a go, supporting each other, making new friends and enjoying the game.
And perhaps Helen said it best: “Keep showing up… and, above all, keep smiling!”
A FIRST PICKLEBALL COMPETITION
Eight Games, No Wins –
and One Glorious Rally
BY HELEN CARPENDALE
Today, I did something rather brave.
Less than a year after first picking up a pickleball paddle – having never played a racket sport in my life – I represented Seacourt in my first proper competition, hosting Hiltingbury Pickleball Club.
I started playing when I was 60. I also have a visual impairment, which initially made the seemingly simple business of actually hitting the ball quite challenging. Yet somewhere along the way, “I’ll give pickleball a try” turned into a full-blown addiction.
The competition began at 10am and ran until 2pm My first match was on the paddle court – a court on which, during a previous club night, I had performed a spectacular backwards tumble while attempting a volley and ended up flat on my back.
So my ambitions for the opening game were modest:
1. Stay upright.
2. Make contact with the ball.
3. Remember to breathe.
My feet were firmly planted, but unfortunately the rest of me wouldn’t stop shaking. I was absolutely terrified.
Then we nicked the first few points from a very experienced pair. We didn’t win, but that hardly mattered. Once that first match was over, I realised something important: I could do this.
Over the next four hours, I played eight games with three different partners, each with a different style. I didn’t win any of them – which, admittedly, isn’t how sporting films are usually written – but every game taught me something.
By the seventh match, we were actually leading 6-3. We then lost the serve and couldn’t wrestle it back, but for a few glorious minutes victory had stopped being a distant fantasy and was hovering tantalisingly nearby.
Then came the final game.
Naturally, we found ourselves facing Hiltingbury’s best players. At one point we became locked in a battle at the net. They hit the ball at me. I hit it back. They hit it harder. I somehow returned it. Back and forth it went, faster and faster, until eventually they hit it out.
We had defended the point.
Everyone sitting on the benches stood up and cheered. Sharon, my partner, later said she had simply stood and watched as the rally unfolded. Apparently, it was the best rally of the day.
Our opponents went on to win the game, but for that one extraordinary point, I had held my own against the best players on the court. That mattered.
At the end of the competition, one of the best players I know came over to speak to me. He is a phenomenal player, but also an incredibly humble one. He said quietly:
“Don’t give up, Helen. I lost every game in my first competition.”
It wasn’t a polite consolation. It was someone saying, “I’ve been exactly where you are.”
Those words reminded me that nobody begins as the player they eventually become. Every confident competitor was once the nervous newcomer trying to remember the score, watch the ball, and breathe at the same time.
That encouragement meant almost as much to me as the rally.
Keep going.
Keep training.
Keep practising.
Keep drilling.
Keep showing up.
And, above all, keep smiling.
That is the wonderful thing about pickleball. You don’t have to be young, naturally athletic, or completely fearless to begin. Sometimes bravery is simply turning up while your knees are shaking, keeping your feet on the ground and hitting the ball one more time.
And Seacourt is a very special place to do it. It feels like discovering a family you never knew you had. Everyone is welcoming, encouraging and fun. So many of the visiting players commented on what a lovely club it is and what a wonderful atmosphere we have.
Ross did a marvellous job of keeping everybody in the right place at the right time – which, with that many pickleball players, courts and matches, may have been the greatest sporting achievement of the day.
There was another achievement hidden in the score sheet too: five of the Seacourt players competing today have been playing pickleball for less than a year.
Five relative newcomers stepped onto those courts, faced an experienced visiting team and defended every point to the bitter end.
Seacourt didn’t win the competition. But we didn’t need to win. We needed to show up, take part, support one another and prove that new players belong on a competition court too.
On that measure, Seacourt won.
So yes, I played eight games and lost all eight.
But I stayed on my feet. I faced the nerves. I played the rally of my life – and an entire bench stood up and cheered.
I didn’t come home feeling defeated.
I came home wanting to do it all again.