Poached: Pickleball Camp on Sanibel Island: Whole Lotta Dinking Going On

PICKLEBALL CAMP ON SANIBEL ISLAND: WHOLE LOTTA DINKING GOING ON

By Sue Finley

“You guys are such a bunch of bangers.”

–Ernesto, the camp pro at the Sundial Inn on Sanibel Island

For a while now, I’ve thought it would be great to go away to a pickleball vacation; you know, maybe an island resort that was like the Red Bank Y by the sea, where people just showed up on the courts and you could always find a game. Try as I might, I have been unable to find that such a thing exists, so I looked into what I thought might be the next best thing: pickleball camp. It’s like summer camp, but for adults. With pickleball.

There are several companies that offer pickleball camps, but after perusing the locations of some of the offerings (Grand Rapids, Michigan? Sacramento?) I quickly settled on Level Up PIckleball camps, which are run by Pickleball Magazine. Not only are they conducted by Rob Davidson, a 2017 USAPA Gold Medalist, and two other teaching pros, but I scan the list and see that they offer one on Sanibel Island, Florida in April. Not that I don’t love Sacramento, or Michigan, but….

DAY 1:

I am one of 12 campers who has signed up for the camp, held at the Sundial Inn on Sanibel, a charming island off the west coast of Florida, where it looks like a whole lot hasn’t changed since the 1970s. The resort has 12 courts and the camp has taken over half of them. Rob introduces the other pros: Ernesto, who is the teaching pro at Sundial, and Joey, both of whom will compete in the US Open along with Rob and his wife Shonda the following week in Naples, Florida. There are people of all ages from all over the U.S. and Canada, from 30 to 65. The last four campers to arrive that morning are from Maryland, and sport matching shirts that read “World’s Okayest Pickleball Player.” I think this is going to be a fun group.

We start out, of course, with dinks. A whole lot of dinks. The most important thing I learn at the session is to keep myself square to the net, shuffling back and forth to get the ball, rather than crossing one foot over another as I move to my backhand side, as I have been doing. Ernesto points this out as I go for a dink to my backhand, and they’ll hammer this home to me for the next three days–how I’m leaving the left side of the court open when I cross my left foot over my right and go for the backhand dink in the corner. They say that Jan Green will surely plunk one there behind my back for a winner. (Okay, they don’t mention Jan by name, but I know who they’re talking about.)

We take videos of us dinking, volleying, serving and returning the serve. We hold a dinking competition and to my surprise (and I’m sure to that of everyone at Monmouth Pickleball), I end up on Court 1 in the number 2 spot, losing only in the last round to Ryan from Maryland, a ridiculously consistent dinker. We are told that where we end up today is where we will play for the next day and a half. I’m on Court 1. Life is good. I feel like pickleball royalty.

They give us an hour and half for lunch, which they serve at the courts. We eat in 10 minutes, and then want to play, organizing mixed games of campers and pros. Ernesto watches me and the other camper hammering the ball back and forth, and makes his observation about us being “a bunch of bangers.” It’s so true that we laugh out loud.

After lunch, we work on my next favorite shot, the third shot drop shot, and play a series of games where you lose the point if you fail to make the third shot drop shot. I can hear Jannetje laughing at me all the way from New Jersey.

After five hours of playing in the sun, we limp off the courts. Jeff from Florida announces he’s selling Advil at $2 per pill. I think about taking him up on it.

Rob has organized a group dinner that night and while we wait for our food, the pros take us aside to shows us our videos, which can only be described as shocking. They point out my crossover-leg dinking again, but actually compliment my serves. I tell Joey that someone has mentioned that my serves may be illegal, and he looks at all seven that he’s taped and says that while I may be close, they’re legal, but that if I don’t want to hear about it from Chip anymore, I can lower my hand about an inch. (And here he mentions Chip by name. Really. The unfair accusation has reached all the way to Florida.)

But when I watch my returns, it’s truly horrifying. That’s how I swing? Seriously? All this time, I was imagining the graceful strokes of Steffi Graf. Or at least the slightly less graceful but very aggressive strokes of Andre Agassi. I watch the video and discover that I swing like I have a shoulder impingement. And none of you guys told me? Seriously? I now have a goal to achieve before the day 3 videos. Swing like Steffi Graf…Swing like Steffi Graf…

When I go to bed, my Fitbit tells me I’ve burned over 4000 calories today. God, I love pickleball camp.

DAY 2:

Day 2 dawns hotter and more humid than the first, with a stiff north-south wind which is going to make everything we do challenging. We start out with a third-shot drop shot contest that sees me plummet from court 1 back to court 4. I’ve gone from pickleball royalty to pickleball scum in a day. And then they announce that our new “home court” is where we’ll be for the rest of camp. This is very depressing. Maybe I should have been practicing this shot all along. We practice shuffling and dinking and knowing when to hit a small, soft volley and when to let the ball bounce in the kitchen.

We practice serving deep and returning deep, and Rob tells us never to drive a backhand from the baseline, but to hit a drop with your backhand and only drive with your forehand. Maybe that’s why I’ve been shanking my third-shot backhands? My issues suddenly become clear.

After lunch, Rob talks about warmups, and how most people spend five minutes of wasted time, and then go on to play. He says that some of us don’t even want to spend five minutes, but just want to go straight to the game. (I know, Katherine Hedden! I know!) But he takes us through a five-minute structured warmup of forehand, center and backhand dinks, drops, drives and volleys that suddenly makes a lot of sense. At the end of the day, despite all the Powerade Zero I’ve consumed, my quads and hamstrings have cramped, and it’s all I can do to walk to the car.

DAY 3:

Day 3 dawns much cooler, in the mid-60s, with a wind unlike anything we’ve seen even during the winter at Victory Park in Rumson. On the windward side, just a tap is enough to send a serve deep into the far court; on the leeward side, even hitting it as hard as possible often barely clears the kitchen. It makes for challenging play. While we wait for the others to return from lunch, one camper and I play a game with Rob and Wayne Dollard, the owner of Pickleball Magazine. It’s literally the most fun game I’ve ever played in my life, and the best thing of the week. We’re up 4-1 when Rob misses a tough shot from Wayne, and I tell him I can’t keep carrying him like this and hear his wife laughing hysterically from the bleachers. I try to direct my shots at Janine, the other camper, while Rob and Wayne slug it out. Rob and I eke out a 15-13 win.

After lunch comes the part I’ve been waiting for: defending the lob. We stand at the kitchen line. (Quick aside. For three days, Rob has called this the “navale line” or at least that’s what I’ve heard—imagine that rhyming with tamale—and it took me two days to realize he was saying `no-volley’ line. And here I thought it was a spot on the court I had never heard of. Westerners and their accents. Good God.) Rob said the mistake most people make is to spin around, trying to figure which direction to go. Instead, take a drop step on the side of your dominant hand. Shuffle back. If it’s not too deep, hit the overhand. If it is too deep, determine that in the first or second shuffle step, turn and run toward the baseline, turn and hit a drop shot with your forehand. He tells me that will stop Kevin Kubik every time. (Really. He mentions Kevin by name.)

At the end of the day, eight of us, including the pros, stick around to play some games well after the camp is over.

What did I learn, other than that Sanibel Island is really nice?

1. The third shot drop is important not just to give you time to get to the net, but to keep opponents from hammering it back at you. (I know, Debbie! You told me this and I didn’t listen!)
2. Dinking is key. Joey tells us that pros all have a “tolerance rating” whereby they are rated as to how many dinks they can handle before they get impatient. Joey is a 40, but he says there are others rated at 100. I’m about a four. But I’m working on it.
3. I now know how to defend the lob. It’s just too bad this came about after Lisa Hogan moved to Florida.
4. I learn that Ernesto was right on that first day. Most of us 3.0s are just a bunch of bangers.

But most importantly, I realize that pickleball players are the nicest, most welcoming people on earth. And I’ve learned that if I want to advance my game, I really have to stop being a `banger,’ in Ernesto’s words, and develop a softer game.

On Day 3, we take videos again. My dinking is now solid. My serves and volleys pass muster. And if my groundstrokes aren’t yet perfect? And least they look a little bit more like Steffi Graf’s…well, if she had a shoulder impingement.

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