The two opponents met, grim determination in their faces. The stage had been set for the biggest challenge of their lives.
A baking tropical sun sizzled overhead. Clouds gathered around the peak of Muana Hualalai, classified as an active volcano. A thousand feet away, the Pacific bubbled and burbled in anticipation of Hurricane Fausto’s arrival. The woman felt confident from playing dozens, if not maybe a gross, of tennis games. The man boasted of his experience, trying to intimidate his partner.
They squared off. Tensions grew. The first serve cleared the net. The opponent let the ball bounce once, then swung mightily.
Competition continued fiercely in the same manner. Once, in the heat of battle, the volleys came fast and furious. Halfway through the match, the opponents traded sides. Heated play continued, the serves and volleys unlike man had ever witnessed. Heartbeats quickened in a perfect cardio workplace as they repeatedly swung against the ball. Finally, the score close, the man and woman ended the match and sat companionably on a bench, sharing a bottle of water. Satisfied with their workout, they echoed what opponents had said from ancient times:
“That was fun. Let’s do it again.”
 Old in this instance refers to the age of the participants
 It might have been heatstroke
 Or would, in about 4 hours. The match took place at 8 a.m. ish
 It last erupted in 1801
 2200 miles away. Not much of a threat, but you never know.
 On the Wii
 playing solo in high school by hitting the ball again and again against a wall.
 A foot above the target.
 Three. They hit back and forth three times. In a row.
 To let the other squint against the morning sun
 <insert sarcasm>
 then pirouetted to pick up the ball from the back fence.
 Do you think they knew how to keep score? Get real.
 Neither had a coronary