I enjoyed tennis more after I let go of my competitiveness and embraced low-stakes fun I hadn’t touched a tennis racket for nearly 20 years when last month I decided to join an adult clinic at the local courts. I figured that whacking a ball around might help release the tension that has me up in the middle of the night, might wring me out just the way my kids are wrung out at camp, after which they come home and sleep, hard. The tennis players range from college grads to septuagenarians. Some days, 12 people show up, and we play games; others, just two, and we run drills. I used to play as a kid, and was terrible back then – competitive and erratic, a lethal combination that had me cursing a blue streak, throwing my racket with abandon, and clenching my teeth in a vise grip for hours after a lost match. Now, as then, I am terrible. And yet, I’ve found that I am also profoundly happy being terrible. Whoosh ! There goes my backhand, sailing over the fence. Wheehaw ! There’s that serve...