If you haven't heard of pickleball, you must be living in a mountaintop monastery somewhere in the Himalayas. Yet even there, at 10,000 feet in Bhutan, monks have been playing pickleball since 2023.
So, chances are, you’ve already heard about this oddly named sport and might even be curious to know what all the fuss is about. Pickleball is the fastest-growing sport in America, a mash-up of tennis, ping-pong, and badminton that's captured the hearts of everyone from retirees to schoolkids. Played on a small court with a hollow, perforated plastic ball, it's easy to learn, endlessly fun, and surprisingly competitive.
For most of my life, I played other racquet sports. My parents were devoted players of ping-pong, paddle tennis, and even handball. Growing up, my mother often dragged me to the paddle tennis courts in Santa Monica. I was too little to play, so I'd sit courtside, watching the rallies while eating tunafish sandwiches and potato chips. Eventually, as a young teen, I figured I might as well pick up a paddle and join in.
My dad, a true New Yorker, played four-wall handball anywhere he could — and kept it up well into his eighties. I was never allowed to join him; that game was too dangerous, with its small, hard, fast-moving ball. For the record, he lived to be 104. Health benefits, maybe?
As I got older, my stamina for tennis and paddle tennis began to fade. Finding foursomes and organizing games became more trouble than it was worth, so I drifted back to ping-pong. Still, I missed the thrill of a truly active, sweat-inducing sport. I hated the gym but forced myself to go anyway — exercise felt like drudgery to be endured, never enjoyed.
One day, while walking my dog along the boardwalk in Venice Beach, Calif., I stopped to watch the paddle tennis players. Longingly, I wished I could play again, but they were all young men smashing the ball, screaming, swearing, and sweating. They looked scary.
Then I saw a group of older folks playing a different, yet similar game. Intrigued, I asked what they were playing. "It's pickleball," they said in unison, "C'mon, tie up your dog, grab a loaner paddle, and join us."
"Um, ok, I'll try it,' I said sheepishly. Surprisingly, I had little trouble hitting the ball and keeping it in play, but the rules and scoring system left me bewildered — there were just too many of them. I'd never remember all this. I was ready to quit before even getting started.
But, at the same time, it felt exhilarating to be back on the court again, so I showed up the next day and the next. Something clicked. It had the strategy of tennis, the pace of ping-pong, and the joy I'd been missing for years. Suddenly, exercise didn't feel like work anymore; it felt like play.
Day after day, I kept coming back. Why? Allow me to make a list.
It's easily accessible and naturally social — carefree, entertaining, and welcoming. (Unlike golf, for example; ugh.)
It lowers the risk of heart disease and depression as a natural, endorphin-releasing mood booster.
It combats feelings of isolation and loneliness.
It keeps your mind sharp, focused, and "in the moment."
It requires split-second decisions and even helps with memory, especially when it comes to scorekeeping!
It supports fitness goals while enhancing connection and community.
It improves reflexes, balance, and range of motion, reducing the risk of arthritis.
And best of all, it's a game of equality — no distinctions between gender, social status, race, or ability.
Shelly Beach of New York City, an 83-year-old pickleballer, says, "We have more fun than tennis players." Unlike tennis, she said, "you can see your progress very quickly . . . so take some lessons and go for it!"
One of my favorite partners is my 12-year-old granddaughter, Tillie. When I asked her what she likes about the game, she said, "It's not like tennis. It's less competitive, and easy-going. I like to play with you, Oma, because sometimes when I hit the ball to you, you can't run for it, so I get the point."
And I get her point. She's right.
I try to play daily. So yeah, am I hooked? I've skipped work to play, but really, I'm practicing for retirement.
Have I lost friends? Not really. They think it's hilarious. They get it, even if they don't fully understand it. (That is, until I get them on the court).
Have I neglected obligations? Oh yeah. But what's more important than a good game? Everything else can wait: bills, taxes, laundry — mañana, I say.
I've gained an entirely new community of people as gleefully intoxicated as I am. Show up at the courts and there's always someone looking for a game.
So, get out there, give it a whirl, and see what the big dill is all about. My guess? You'll be coming back for more.