Bear with me, as I tell you the story of one of my most memorable tennis tournaments: the 1987 Woodlands Jr. Open in the Woodlands, TX.
1987 was a big year for me. I had qualified for a state ranking, allowing me to compete against the best players in Texas. My game had never been better when I signed up for the Woodlands, a tournament held on my favorite surface: clay. When I arrived, I knew I would be seeded. Perhaps #8, a quarterfinalist. Or maybe even #4, a semifinalist. I shook my head when I looked up at the draw after arrival. For some reason, I was seeded #1.
I had won many tournaments by that year, but never a USTA-sanctioned event featuring elite tennis players who would later be playing at the collegiate level. I’d had some great runs. But to be the last one standing after a USTA tournament was a different matter entirely. Still, learning of my #1 seed had a fascinating psychological effect. Instead of just competing, I suddenly became convinced that the Woodlands was my tournament to win.
And I played like it too. I blew past my first opponent in straight sets in the Round of 32, and then did the same over the next three matches on the way to the finals. I still consider my 6-1, 6-1 quarterfinal win the best tennis I have ever played. I decisively defeated a friend who was every bit my equal. But not equal on this weekend; this weekend belonged to me.
After reaching the finals, I learned that I would face Regan Reitzel, another state ranked player who was exceptional. But I already knew the outcome of this match. I was the #1 seed and could not be stopped. Regan and I split the first two sets and prepared to start the third set to decide the tournament. Soon, I’d be proudly celebrating the title of a tournament sanctioned by the United States Tennis Association.
I lost.
Oh well. Tennis is inevitably about loss. No matter how hard you work, every 32-draw tournament eventually includes 31 losers.
Carroll “Bud” Pickett was an outstanding Austin College tennis player. He earned a 1953 Texas Conference title for AC, which qualified him for the NAIA national tournament. At Nationals, Pickett got on a roll similar to my tournament at the Woodlands. He won four straight matches over players from NAIA schools in Iowa, Arizona, New Mexico, and Washington State. He reached the finals, just one victory away from earning himself and Austin College a national title.
He lost.
From an article headlined “Pickett Has Outstanding Year at Austin College” in the June 14, 1953 Victoria Advocate: “Pickett’s defeat in the finals was his first loss in 16 collegiate matches he has played for AC against such schools as TCU, Texas Wesleyan, East Texas State, Southeastern Oklahoma, Hardin-Simmons, and the 4 schools in the NAIA National tournament.”
Oh well. Tennis is inevitably about loss. No matter how hard you work, every 32-draw tournament eventually includes 31 losers.
We lost Carroll Pickett this week; he passed at the age of 89. AC Chaplain John Williams has written about Pickett. 10 years ago, Williams wrote about why he admired Reverend Pickett’s time in Huntsville and why he believed Pickett was so deserving of the Honorary Doctor of Divinity degree he was about to receive from AC. Williams makes his case with Psalm 139:7-8 and a whole bunch of Dr. Peppers. See the comments.
I’ve also written about Pickett before, most of it focused on his time as the Presbyterian Death Row Chaplain in Huntsville and his death penalty abolition activism after retirement. Pickett’s story is a difficult yet fascinating one. It will also be a part of my new Roo Tales book. Entitled “Rivals & Legends,” the book tells the stories of members of the AC Hall of Honor. The book should be available around Labor Day 2022.
My own tennis career ended in 1990 as the #1 player for Austin College. I had a fine season, earning 1st Team All-Conference honors. But the award which means the most to me? My teammates selected me for the Carroll Pickett MVP award. Even at that young age, I understood the value of being able to return to campus one day and seeing my name on the wall of past recipients. Reading about Pickett’s life in the years since 1990 has made me even more proud to call myself a Carroll Pickett award winner.
A few years ago, I used some “Roo researching” skills to answer a question. Just where the heck was Regan Reitzel, the guy who beat me in the finals of the 1987 Woodlands Jr. Open? What did I learn? Well, after competing in the NCAA D2 Championship Tournament for Washburn University (KS), Reitzel returned to Texas and became the head tennis pro at the same Woodlands Country Club where we clashed. He is still the Woodlands tennis pro today. Amazing.
After learning this news, my wife Dianne and I stopped by the Woodlands Country Club on a trip to Houston. There, we saw Reitzel giving a lesson on the same court where he and I had battled back in 1987. Instead of interrupting his work on the court, we instead made our way to the pro shop to leave him a note about our visit and the 1987 finals match which fueled it. I asked the front desk if they still had a paper copy of that 1987 tournament draw.
“Nope,” I was told. “All of those old pre-digital tournament draws were lost.” Oh well. Tennis is inevitably about loss.
Both life & tennis, in the final outcome, are about loss. But I don’t like to dwell on the loss at the end. I prefer to instead focus on those glorious four match winning streaks that get us all the way to the final chapter. Like Carroll Pickett’s four match run in the 1953 NAIA national tournament on behalf of Austin College. And yes, like my four match run in the 1987 Woodlands Open.
Still, the next time I visit the Woodlands Country club, I think I’ll track Reitzel down and ask for a rematch. Great to reconnect with you online Regan; I won’t be a stranger the next time I’m in the neighborhood.
Great to reconnect with you online Regan; I won’t be a stranger the next time I’m in the neighborhood.