© 2005

               by John Gruberg
 

Joy Akers sat on the bench; and she truly was a joy to behold.  Her thirty-six years looked more like eighteen; no one would have ever guessed she had three fully grown children.  Her smart features were accented by sunbleached hair and a tan that lay like smooth copper over her perfectly muscled arms and legs.
    Joy was the number one woman player at the park, which was the biggest facility in town and home to the best players.  She played singles, mostly against the men.  Two of them, Eddie and Bill, were in conversation as they walked over to her bench.
    "No kidding," Eddie said, "Frank never gave me a call, the guy's really improved in that department, I couldn't believe it."
    "I doubt it."  Bill was skeptical.  "I played Frank a week ago and he was bad, really bad, anything six inches inside the lines he called out.  Nobody improves that much in a week."
     Joy wasn't buying it either.  "How was he on the sideline?" she asked, "he's usually worse there."
    "Perfect," Eddie said, "he never gave me a call on a one, I tell ya the guy never hooked me once."
    "I find that hard to believe," Bill muttered.  "That's just not like Frank.  Well, okay, what about angled putaways? He usually manages to see those out when things get close."
   Eddie smiled and shook his head, amazed himself.  "Nope, but he had his chance, I hit one so close it could a gone either way and he called it in, I couldn't believe it."