Shhhh - it is a Secret

The other day I had an audition commercial - for Secret deodorant. I had to play a sport. So, naturally, I picked the one sport I don't suck at - tennis. I played tennis for many years. I remember being at the YMCA taking lessons ever summer since I can remember. My sister even taught Pee-Wee Tennis. Not that her teaching made me a better player, but you can see how important tennis was in the life of our family.

Then came high school. I was not that great, but I had a great coach that really believed in me and was willing to spend any amount of time I was willing to spend on improving my game -- my Dad. "It is all about visualizing the swing." "See the image of you hitting the ball in your mind." As I look back on high school, I wish I paid more attention in history and English, and I wish I practiced more tennis.

To prep for my tennis audition (since it has been easily 6 years since I touched a racket, let alone hit a ball with it) my cousin and I decided to hit the ball around. It was amazing -- like riding a bike. I hit the ball a few times and realized that I didn't suck. My backhand was a strong as ever. I still hyper-extend on my forehand. And if I just relax into my serve, I can get it in - it isn't an ace, but it is at least playable. And what is even more crazy, or scary, is I could hear my Dad's voice in my head. "She hits a cross-court shot to your backhand. Return it down the line, make her run." "Approach the next, be aggressive." Ect. Freaky, but reassuring. There is really something to the muscle, memory thing. And it is nice to know I don't suck.

So back to my audition. The first four shots are this: 1 close-up on my face, one full-body, one distant armpit shot, and one up-close armpit shot. Yup. Armpit shot. I should really connect with the photographer to be sure to add that to my comp card. After my good, bad, and smelly armpit has been digitalized, we move on to a fake game. Basically I pantomime a tennis game. A few strokes: Serve, return forehand, backhand, backhand, overhead smash, another serve and then my final winning (backhand) shot. Point, set, match. The high point is the celebration of my success. It was hard won, I almost didn't get it, but the sweet smell of victory (because I am wearing Secret deodorant) smells so sweet.

I probably won't get it, but I had fun anyway.