I have always been passionate about Lawn tennis as a sport. I used to enjoy watching the game, to the disgust of most of my friends. While everyone else was rushing home or wherever to catch live football matches, or rugby when rugby sevens was all the rage, I’d be religiously watching out for tennis matches. I never was picky, I would settle for any tournament, be it a grand slam, an African tournament or some low tier competition somewhere in the middle east.
I was obsessed and my roommate back then wasn’t too pleased about it. “What a boring game,” she never passed an opportunity to remind me. It never was boring to me. On the contrary, I found it to be quite intriguing and like most young girls the world over i absolutely adored Serena Williams, as evidenced in posts such as this here.
One morning after receiving that month’s salary, I visited Nairobi Sports house. While there I bought two racquets, a really huge tennis bag (when I say huge I mean the likes of what the Federers and Serenas of this world carry to court), several balls, a good cap and a solid pair of tennis shoes. Suffice to say my wallet took a huge hit from that; I spent a fortune just on those items. At that moment I didn’t even have a plan – I just knew I would find a way to learn how to play the game. I was 22 year old. Too late to learn to play professionally, but not too late to pick up a new hobby.
yours truly learning basics at Mombasa Sports Club
The next day my friend Rose Kimani and I set off for Mombasa sports club. Rose was my gym mate who had become a close friend, and who unfortunately, I had managed to pull into my insane tennis shenanigans. In retrospect, what an amazing gesture that was. Someone that had absolutely no interest in the game, coming through and agreeing to start lessons on the same, for the sake of friendship. If that’s not genuine friendship then I have no idea what else could be.
Once at the reception, we were asked who we were there to see, since the place was strictly a members only club. That was years ago though, and I’m not sure if those rules were changed.
“We are here to play tennis,” I quipped confidently.
The male reception raised an eyebrow bemusedly.
“Are you members of the club by any chance?”
“Not really. How much is the membership fee?” We asked innocently.
“100k to be a lifetime member and 2k monthly. It’s not much really.”
Yeah, right. Not much at all for an underpaid 22 year old.
Rose and I looked at each other and said nothing.
“Do you know anyone that is a club member perhaps? That could make it easier for you to access the tennis court.” The receptionist tried to be helpful.
We knew no one. Our hearts fell. There goes our dreams of learning to play tennis. More of my dream really, Rose was just there for the ride.
“Wait here and don’t move,” the guy said cheerfully. I think he was becoming invested and wanted to see how this would end too.
Shortly after he came back with a physically fit albeit older looking guy and introduced him to us as John. John was a tennis coach, one of the best in the country, they told us.
John was heaven sent. He told us we could use his name to acces the club facilities anytime and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thrilled beyond measure. He told us he’ll teach us how to play the game. My friend rose asked how much he would be charging us per session. We held our breath in fear, expecting to be asked a ridiculously high amount.
What he told us left our jaws dropping to the floor. The price wasn’t ridiculously high, it was ridiculously cheap! Honestly, the answer he gave us wasn’t what we were expecting at all! We were hooked and started practice that very evening! Later on we found out that for such a humble guy, John had coached two boys and one girl who’d gone on to become number one junior players in the country.
We became regulars at the club, made so many friends and since we were young and everyone could see how interested we were in learning the game (most of the members were old port employees and old Arabs/ Asians who used to come to the club for daily evening walks), the club gave us an offer. We could pay the membership fees in installments.
I never got around to doing it though, for whatever reasons and years later I had moved cities. If you are in Mombasa and want to learn the game or introduce your child to it, here is John’s number. +254723663952. John and i are still good friends to date and he is one of the best at doing what he does.
Exit Mombasa, enter Nairobi. On my next post I will talk about Nairobi, where you can get affordable tennis classes and what age is best for introducing your child to the game. Most people have this mentality that tennis is a game for the rich and indeed if you take a walk around most tennis courts in town 90% of the kids you’ll come across are white, Asian or a few Arabs. I always ask myself, where are the black kids?
I want to debunk this myth that tennis is for the rich. At one point when your child starts playing the tournaments and winning, I agree that maybe you’ll need cash for mobility and equipment and what not, but all you need right now is to start.
Just start. To start you don’t need much. Just a racquet and a good coach and some good shoes. The information I’m going to share will be some good news, because even then you won’t need a racquet. Just show up and your coach will provide the rest.
