The moment I picked up a pickleball paddle,
my friends gave me a new title : cheekopek (A dirty old man in Singlish)

Why?
Because they think got many pretty players right?””

Pickleball is the perfect Malaysian rojak of sports.
A bit of tennis.
A bit of badminton.
A bit of table tennis.
And a lot of laughter.

The addicitive is real:
Too easy to learn…One game in, you look like national player.
Too fast to shiok…Ten minutes, you’re drenched and shouting “Nice shot bro!”
Too social… Small court, big gossip.
Too bing bing… Fancy expensive paddles, outfits and shoe just for Instagram.

I used to be serious from ultra running, cycling, golf, tennis.
Now I just want to master the soft hand on
dinking and resetting from tennis background.
Harder than it looks.

My funniest moments with pretty girl 8 months journey in pickleball

Partnered a bing bing newbie. I stood still like singing the national anthem for the entire game. Wanted to ask, “You dare to join intermediate group when you can not even serve?”

Drill session with another newbie. She couldn’t even hit a forehand. Coach still teaching her backhand. I shout to coach, “Leave her out on backhand?! Can you see coach!”

Against a competitive lady. I served flat, spin, screw. All to her backhand. She gave me that KNS face. Wanted to say, “Next time I serve forehand at moderate speed for you, ok?”

Last week, I went back to old passaion tennis.
Timing gone.
Spin gone.
Legs gone.
Stamina gone.
All because I didn’t want to be called cheekopek.

But here’s the truth.
I’m not cheekopek.
I’m just be better pickleball uncle who refuse to quit.