Walking on court, he tested his weight on the leg. It felt okay. As he tossed the ball out and felt it spring to the front wall, he heard Colin come on court behind him, and the door latch clinked closed. Ben punted the cold ball over to where he sensed Colin had moved, and then turned around to walk farther back in the court and saw all the team there behind the glass wall. None of them were going anywhere for any drills. Price was still smiling and Markson was still looking down.

Colin hit a couple backhands to himself and then hit a crosscourt to Ben, and soon the ball was warm and they turned to each other to decide what to do. Ben offered to feed Colin for straight drives, and for a couple minutes they did this. Then Colin turned to him and offered to feed him (“Your leg okay?”) and Ben nodded, and with each rail Ben brought the ball closer and closer to the wall until Colin struggled to hit a clean shot.

And then with a sense of no choice, Colin asked if Ben wanted to play a few points. Ben did. Colin asked Ben up or down and Ben called “Up” and Colin spun his racquet and it was down. Ben moved to the backhand court to receive the ball. Colin hit a high looping serve, Ben put a return flush against the wall, and Colin barely scraped it out of the corner. Ben had already walked to the front of the court to await the ball, and he easily put it away. Ben served and Colin couldn’t return it. They played four more points like this, Colin unable to get past one or two balls.

Ben kept himself from looking through the back glass. Suddenly the idea of Colin having a tantrum on court arose to him, and he pledged to himself that he would throw a couple points.

But he couldn’t. He saw the ball rise off the front wall, and everything in him hit it crosscourt into the nick. He foresaw how insulting and shabby it would seem if he started serving balls out.